New York City
January 2000

The rain and snow that had fettered the city for nearly a week finally relented; leaving in its wake a brilliant cold that brought steam from the warm metal of the buildings. Drops of remaining rain rolled bravely down recessed windows and dripped mindlessly from awnings, seemingly at the exact moment someone stepped beneath their path. Often eliciting a squeal of surprise from a child or a disgruntled mutter from an adult, th droplets continued to patter despite the parting clouds. Most people, grateful they could finally set aside their umbrellas, those cumbersome items that somehow seemed to shield no rain at all, paid no attention to the filtered sunlight, all too intent on their purposes.

Heedless of the bustling pedestrians around her, one young woman paused on the sidewalk when a beam of sunshine pierced through the clouds, alighting on the jammed traffic. The wet metal and glass gleamed and sparkled under its brightness, casting a blinding glow at whoever gazed upon it, though it appeared she was the only one looking. Lifting her gaze to the centerpiece of Times Square, she felt a familiar thrill that always occurred when she was in the heart of the city.

One day. One day she would feel as though she truly belonged here; that her dreams were far from ridiculous.

One day.

/*/

Glancing out the large window that overlooked Times Square, he watched as a woman paused in the crowd. People hurried past her, paying no attention to whatever she was looking at so intently. She held one palm upwards, catching some of the last raindrops that dared to fall in the sunlight. Then she turned, smiling at something in the sky. Looking to the north, he felt a flicker of a smile touch his lips when he saw the faint rainbow. Then he returned his gaze to her, wondering why she seemed to captivate him.

She looked so peaceful, he realized.

How he missed being that way. To walk along the streets and look or feel however
he wanted, without the constant barrage of fans and media disturbing his thoughts.
Without management dictating every move.

One day. One day he would feel peace again; that the dreams he had pursued were not as ridiculous as they seemed now.

Sitting up abruptly when the alarm clock on the nightstand began to ring shrilly, Justin somehow managed to turn the alarm off before falling back onto the mattress. "Five more minutes," he mumbled to himself, burrowing beneath the thick comforter. Dragging a pillow into his arms, he buried his face against it, smiling at the warm cocoon he had created. Despite rumors to the contrary, he really liked waking up. Especially when he had slept so well the night before.

He wasn't sure why he'd slept so good, though. He'd come back to the hotel relatively early for him, considering that he was off. He'd also come alone. Not so unusual, but he'd been sure that he would find someone to share his bed. Instead, though, he'd enjoyed the dancing, the large cake Joey'd gotten, and watching his friend load up on birthday loot. And he'd been content to kiss the blonde, that had somehow attached herself to his side, on the cheek and ride back to the hotel with only Tiny to keep him company.

It was the dreams that had bothered him. Completely innocent dreams with no sexual connotations whatsoever. Normally his non-sexual dreams focused on him being onstage or reliving a basketball game, but last night…

Last night's dreams had been so strange in their innocence. Walking down a beach kicking at the waves, laying in a meadow staring up at the clouds while he chained daisies into a necklace. Wrinkling his nose at the pure fluff his brain created in his sleep, he sighed when he remembered the woman who'd been with him at each interval. And though he was sure that most women would probably leap at the chance to play leading lady in some of his dreams, the woman he'd dreamed about had all but told him point-blank that she wanted nothing to do with him.

Funny, he thought, shifting onto his back so he stared up at the ceiling. Maybe that was why he was so interested in her, why he had remembered her lavender scent before drifting to sleep, why he wondered if he'd be able to get her number.

So decided, he slid out of the bed, pausing when he was seated on the edge of the mattress. Allowing his toes to dig into the soft carpet for a moment, he reached for the phone to order up breakfast. Looking to the clock as the operator told him it would be thirty minutes, he nodded, knowing that was plenty of time to shower.

He, Trace, JC, Lance and Chris had gone in together to get a suite for the week they were in NYC to party. Hearing complete silence when he opened the door leading to the living room, he knew it would possibly be hours before anyone else stirred. After a quick shower, he was carefully shaving around the goatee he'd groomed when there was a unobtrusive, polite knock on the main door. Cursing when the razor slid haphazardly in his fingers, he quickly inspected for any potential damage. Thank God. Not even a nick.

He ate breakfast alone, reveling in the solitude as he flipped through the morning paper. No annoying chatter from a woman he had nothing in common with. No rambunctious teases from his friends. Nothing but the muted TV, on a rerun of Home Improvement he'd found, the paper, and himself.

His thoughts returned to her as he read over the comics, after seeing the book of matches with the club's number on the back that he'd swiped from the VIP lounge. Without any reason, he wondered what her morning routine was. Did she drink coffee? Did she read the paper or watch TV? Then, unbidden; did she have someone she got up and made breakfast for daily?

Some businessman, he decided with a snort as he poured himself a glass of milk. Some uptight stick-in-the-mud of a man who probably never set foot into the club she worked at. An accountant. Some stodgy, overweight short guy with glasses and a balding head. She deserved someone with more pizzazz, he decided with a scoff.

Not, of course, that he could be that someone. But he was sure he had a few friends in town who would be able to show her what life was meant to be. Though, going through his list of friends in his mind, he mentally shook his head at each one. She was too fiery for all of them.

Of course, he could always take her out once or twice. Let her see the spotlight. But he knew that it wouldn't shine favorably on him if he did so. After all, who would believe that he, Justin Timberlake, had to date an overweight bartender from nowhere?

Pushing her from his mind, he returned to the newspaper, finding a blurb about Joey's party. Smiling at the inference that he'd had someone waiting for him at the hotel when he left alone, he cheerfully continued his breakfast. Let them think that, it was better than the truth.

Maybe he'd be able to forget Bartender Johanna after another night of clubbing.

/*/

There it was again. That gentle nudge to her shoulder from behind, the silent sign that it was time to get up. She lay on her side in the bed, attempting to catch a few more moments of sleep, but the blanket had been pushed down, and the nudge was repeated. Groaning, she turned to her back, looking at the one whom she shared her bed with.

"I suppose you want breakfast."

Of course he did. He was always miffed when she had to work and he had to deal with whatever she left out for him instead of having his usual hot meal. His green eyes flashed with indignation, even as he nuzzled her neck.

"Don't go loving on me now," she warned with a scowl. "I came home early, didn't I? And you had already gone to bed. Usually you stay up and wait for me."

Again the green eyes flashed, and the grunt of response was all she knew she would receive until he'd had his breakfast. Another nudge, this one more insistent, and she finally crawled from the bed. Gasping at the suddenness of the cold bare floor against her toes, she scrambled to find her slippers, telling herself that yes, today, she would go and buy a small rug to place beside the bed. "Just let me go to the bathroom then I'll take care of you."

She headed to the kitchen a few moments later, glancing into the other bedroom to see that her roommate had already left for the day. In the kitchen, he was waiting in his usual chair, eyes narrowed and nose twitching with impatience. Assuring him that she knew she was running behind, she started the coffee pot before getting his plate. Feeling his eyes on her every step she made, she pulled the bacon from the fridge, going about her usual routine.

Staring absently at the wall behind the range, she turned the bacon, gasping when grease popped onto her arm, bringing her attention to the bandaged wound there. Without thinking, she ran her fingers over the gauze, remembering the gentleness of the long fingers that had applied it. Which only brought to mind the shirt of his, which she still wore. Strangely, the scent of his cologne, still clinging to the fabric, had eased her into a deep sleep, though she would be damned before she admitted it to anyone.

After draining the bacon on paper towels, she scrambled an egg, crumbling the cooling bacon into the mixture before pushing it onto a plate. Making sure to turn off the eye of the range, she turned when she heard the pitiful sound. "Here you go, Sweetheart," she cooed, clicking her tongue as she placed the plate on the floor.

Immediately the orange cat leapt from the chair, tail straight in the air as he sauntered to his dish. Sniffing the proffered food, he cast her a look before tucking into his breakfast.

"Glad I could be of service," she muttered, wondering when she had become servant to her finicky cat. She reached to lovingly stroke his back before moving to fix a pot of coffee.

After getting the paper from the hallway, she settled at the kitchen table, glancing out the window to the skyline of the city, idly stirring her coffee. Inexplicably, she thought of him. She wondered if he had picked up someone in the club and taken her to his hotel, and hated the strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. Shrugging it off as hunger, she sipped her coffee, turning to the comics as she always did.

She couldn't understand her fascination with him; would never admit that she'd downloaded one of his group's songs when she came home the night before. Nor would she admit that his smile had been present in her dreams.

When her coffee had gone cold and Apollo climbed into her lap to taste it, she realized with horror that she'd spent nearly thirty minutes thinking of him… Justin Timberlake.

Stupid to think of him, she thought with a sigh. I'll never see him again.

Even so, as she pushed away from the table to fix a bowl of cereal, she secretly hoped she would.

/*/

When Justin stumbled into his hotel room, a glance at the clock told him it was past three in the morning. Shedding his clothes on his way to the bathroom, he stopped when he saw the light on the phone, signaling that he had a message waiting for him. He hesitated, alternating between his need to use the bathroom and his curiosity over who had called. Whining when the light seemed to taunt him, he dove onto the bed, scrambling with the phone. If it turned out to be some sort of psychotic fan who had figured out his alias for this trip, he would--

'…Justin? It's Johanna… Johanna Tucker? We met last night at…'

She'd called? When? She sounded so nervous, so… Sad, almost.

'…Anyway, Troy called me and said you were badgering him for my number. Can't imagine why you'd want it. Hell, you've probably deleted this by now. But I just wanted to thank you for what you did last night. It was really sweet… And I'm going to get off here now…'

Scrambling, he replayed the message, smiling at the way she hesitated before saying 'sweet'. Then, realizing she was rattling off a phone number, he replayed the message again, fumbling for the notepad and pen the hotel provided on the bedside table. Scribbling the number down, he bit his lip when she mentioned that she was a night owl.

Forgetting his need to use the bathroom, he sat up on the bed, dialing the number he'd written down. With a jolt, he hung up before it rang, staring at the phone in disbelief. What was he doing? Was he honestly considering calling her at three in the morning?

Must be the booze, he decided, clamoring from the bed to hurry to the bathroom. That was it. He'd had too many laced drinks, thanks to Joey, who saw no problem in helping a friend out. He'd thought the drinks would help him in his quest to get a girl for the night, but it hadn't happened. Instead, he'd gotten to that annoying 'laugh at everything because I'm half-drunk and it's all hilarious', which had pissed Trace off when he'd complained about not having a girlfriend. He'd smooth that over in the morning, not that he was worried. He and Trace had been through enough over the years, a little thing like laughing at his best friend being lonely wouldn't hurt things.

When he entered the bedroom again, he dropped onto the bed, eyeing the phone. Was she still up? Would she answer if he called?

…Was she waiting up for him to call?

If she was, and he didn't, he'd be an ass. If she was asleep, and he did, he'd be an ass. If she was up, but not waiting for him, and didn't answer his call, he'd feel like an ass.

Classic no-win situation.

"Fuck it," he muttered, reaching for the phone.

/*/

"One of your bar hotties calling you?" Cassidy teased, glancing up from the game board as the phone rang. Instinctively she reached to check her pager to make sure she hadn't missed a summons from her supervisor. Then, remembering she had turned it off the moment she stepped into the apartment, she looked to Johanna. "I'm on my vacation, the office can't call me in."

"If it's a bar hottie calling me, he's drunk," Johanna decided, already knowing the person she had called earlier wouldn't be calling her back. Why hadn't the geeks of the world created some sort of technology that would allow her to delete a voicemail after leaving it? "Let the machine get it."

Cassidy pursed her lips; she hated the sound of a ringing phone. Tapping her fingers against the table, she reached for the dice, cursing when she heard the fifth ring. Waiting for the machine to click on, she looked towards her friend and roommate when the phone continued to ring. "The machine…?"

"…I turned it off. Damn," Johanna groaned, leaning to turn the machine on. Though, when her eyes moved to the Caller ID, she inhaled sharply when she saw the number. Knowing who it was instinctively but somehow assuring herself she was mistaken, she held her hand over the receiver, finally snatching it up mid-ring. "…Hello?"

"Hey…"

Mr. Justin Timberlake. She hated him for being able to send a flutter to her stomach with just one word. Biting her lip, Johanna tried to assume a cool demeanor. She had yet to tell Cassidy what had transpired the night before, merely shrugging off the cuts on her arm and blaming it on a clumsy waitress. "Yes?"

"Sorry. Could I speak to Johanna, please?"

"Speaking…" she let her voice trail, aware that Cassidy had set the dice down and was paying attention. Holding up a finger, she scowled when her friend merely grinned.

"It's me. Justin," he said, and there was a slight question in his tone. "…What did you call me last night? Jerry Timberland?"

"I was kidding when I called you that," she blurted. An embarrassed flush heated her cheeks. "I'll admit that at first I was a little unclear on your name, but after you repeated it over and over, it kind of made an impression."

"I only repeated it 'cause you kept calling me Jerry and Jim and John and… At least you got the first letter right," he said with a chuckle. "I didn't wake you up, did I?"

"No, you didn't," she promised softly, waving Cassidy away when she leaned closer as though to eavesdrop completely. Honestly, the woman acted a though Johanna never had a phone call. "I'm always up late at night. The perks of working a night job. Even when I don't have to work, I keep to my work schedule so it won't be so hard… But you probably don't want to hear about that."

"It's cool." He grunted softly, causing her eyebrows to furrow with confusion. "I understand what you're talking about. I get so used to touring and then when I'm not it takes forever to get on a normal schedule, and by then…"

"Yeah." Standing, she reached for her empty glass, picking up Cassidy's as well, though her friend's glass was still half-full. Nodding towards the kitchen, she stepped over Apollo, who had stretched across the throw rug in the doorway. The cord barely reached to the counter and she had to lean slightly so she could maintain a conversation. "So, what's up?"

"I got your message," he murmured. She noted that his voice had a strange element to it. Something familiar, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. "And Troy did give me your number, but I didn't remember that till I'd listened to your message like three times to write it down. It was in my wallet… He writes '7' weird."

She released a tense laugh, floored that he admitted listening to her message more than once. Still overwhelmed that he had actually called her; she wondered if he was still just trying to be nice. He had to be. People like Justin Timberlake weren't interested in her. "Do you want your shirt back?" she asked, even as her mind screamed - No! Please, I want a reminder of kindness…

"No… You can have it. Keep it, throw it away, whatever. How are your arms?"

"A lot better, thank you." Leaning against the counter, she poured wine into her glass, taking a sip. Feeling lightheaded, she pushed the glass away, retrieving a canned soda from the fridge instead. "Some quack doctor fixed me up last night."

"Just so you don't sue him if it gets infected," he countered with a chuckle. "You know, it was all my fault. If I hadn't pushed on the guy behind me, then--"

"Amy's new, and she's the biggest klutz in the world," she insisted as the phone cord jiggled. Looking up, she saw Cassidy coming into the kitchen. Her friend picked up her glass of wine but made no signs of leaving the room. "You were just being stubborn."

"Me?" Justin laughed. "I'm not stubborn."

"Says the man who made me down shots in the bathroom--" Johanna cut off when she saw Cassidy's eyebrows raise with interest. Blushing furiously she turned away.

"It helped you forget the pain, didn't it? Besides, I just wanted to talk to you."

"Then talk," she said, toying with the tab of her soda.

"Uh…"

"Talented and eloquent, Jerry," she teased without thinking. It was funny; he'd seemed to have an answer to everything the night before.

"Tell me something, Johanna Tucker," he murmured.

She fought the thrill that his vocalization of her name sent through her; forcefully reminding herself that he was still being nice. Nothing more. "What?"

"What does a bartender do on her night off at four in the morning?"

Johanna sighed when she felt the cord jiggle again; Cassidy was bordering on annoying. She was about to turn and tell her to leave so she could talk in private. But her admonition died on her tongue when she saw the cordless phone was being held out to her. "Hang on a second so I can switch phones," she murmured to Justin, pushing the phone into Cassidy's outstretched hand before taking the cordless. Turning it on she waited until the other phone had been hung up; slightly amused at the shuffling sounds coming from Justin's end. "Sorry about that. What were you saying?"

"I was asking what you do on your night off at four in the morning?"

"I sit around playing Monopoly with my roommate talking to strangers on the phone," she answered easily, popping the tab of her soda as she moved through to her bedroom, pausing in the living room to mouth a thank-you to Cassidy.

"Who's winning?"

"Right now, the complete stranger," she mumbled, glancing at the game board that Cassidy was clearing off. "Game was called on account of phone call."

"No time-outs in Monopoly?" Justin laughed.

"No, because the chick who's banker has a history of money laundering," Johanna ducked the plastic hotel that was flung in her direction, "and she will draw her weapon if you accuse her of it."

"The Fed?"

"The one and only," Johanna assured with a chuckle, finding the token and flinging it back to Cassidy before entering the solitude of her bedroom. Kicking off her shoes she remembered that she still hadn't bout a rug to put beside the bed. So she braved the coldness on her bare feet, sighing when she was lying across her bed. "So, Jerry…"

"Yeah?"

"What does an international pop star do in his hotel room at four in the morning?"

"You forgot to mention 'sex god'… and devastatingly handsome. And extremely talented--"

"Let me rephrase the question: what does an egotistical international pop star do in his hotel room at four in the morning?" she groaned. Extremely talented… She'd give him that. She'd heard him. Devastatingly handsome; yes, that too. Sex god… she would never know.

"Lay in the bed with the lights out talking to bartenders," he told her with a chuckle. "Try to remember what time he has to be up for a radio interview. Wonder if he should go to sleep or keep talking to the nice bartender who doesn't know his name."

The playful tone caused her to smile. He seemed to have a great knack for matching her teasing. "She knows your name, Jerry. Just like she knows that you need your rest for an interview." She was already sitting up. Waiting for the inevitable 'talk to you soon' that would end their conversation. For some reason she felt sad at the thought.

"I can rest afterwards. I'd rather talk to you, Johanna."

"Why?" she demanded.

"You're nice. You're funny. You make one helluva coke and lime." He ticked them off quickly and she could picture him holding up a finger for each reason.

"You're nice too, Justin," she murmured.

"Timbersnake!"

Justin groaned at the hearty bellow that was accentuated by several raps on his door. He was far from ready to deal with whatever it was that she was about to say to him. Gripping the rim of the toilet tightly when another wave of nausea hit him he kept his eyes clamped shut, vowing to never even so much as look at an alcoholic beverage again. Or at least learn his limit…

"You look like shit."

Why had he not learned to lock his door? Or at least lock the bathroom door? Of course he'd been in a hurry to get to the bathroom and hadn't thought that she'd come barging in. Now, though, she towered over him, hands on her hips as she stared him down in that way that was so angering, a little fear-inducing and strangely amusing. With a groan he accepted the damp washcloth she offered, sitting back on the cool tile floor when she reached to flush the toilet. "I feel like shit."

"I told you not to drink so damn much, didn't I? And not to eat so much in between drinking? Didn't I tell you all that?" Dana sighed, leaning to press another damp cloth to the back of his neck. "But no… You had to just chug down drinks like some loser frat-boy."

"Can you not talk so loud?" he requested in a harsh whisper, wincing at the echoing of her voice inside her head. Once he had wiped his face clean she was pulling him to his feet and pushing a toothbrush into his hand. "I was just having fun ya know."

"Oh, sure. Because driving the bus as soon as you get up is so much fun," she snorted.

He wanted to roll his eyes. He really did. Just like he wanted to snort with derision. But knowing that both would send his head into unbelievable pain kept him from doing so. Instead, he bent over the sink and began to brush his teeth.

Dana pulled herself onto the marble counter next to the sink. "Who were you dancing with last night?"

"Huh?"

"The redhead that Joey took to you. She looked nice. Wasn't she the bartender?"

"Uh-huh…" He could only imagine what was coming.

Dana smiled sweetly. "You two looked mighty cozy."

Justin groaned. This was not going to be good.

"Lance said you met her last week at Joey's party. I take it you've seen her since then?"

"Uh-uh."

"Talked to her?"

"Uh…" Justin stalled before answering. He took the time to rinse his mouth thoroughly, even going so far as to gargle. Wiping his mouth clean, he plucked the washcloth from his neck and tossed it aside. "…Maybe?"

"What's her name?"

He really wasn't in the mood for this. Not so early. A glance at the clock on the panel built into the wall told him it was near noon. Okay, not so soon after getting out of bed. Slipping from the bathroom, he made a move for the bed, hoping to get another hour of rest. His plans were thwarted when Dana followed him. She'd never heard of a thing called personal space; that was never more evident until now. She was actually climbing into bed with him, lying on top of the covers so he couldn't burrow beneath them. "Dana!"

"Her name's Dana? How fucking cool is that--"

"Dana Elizabeth Carpenter--"

"Fine, what's her name?"

"Her name's Johanna," he ground out, jerking on the covers until she rolled from the bed. Within seconds he wrapped himself in a cocoon of dark and warmth. But he knew that wouldn't deter Dana. Soon she was jerking the blankets down over his head. "Deck, c'mon… Don't you want to go torture your boyfriend for a while?"

"He's sleeping."

"I'm trying to."

"But he had some major sex this morning and when I finally crawled out of bed an hour ago he said not to disturb him for--"

"Deck! Jesus Christ there's nothing left in my stomach!"

"Oh c'mon, Timbersnake. Tell me."

With a groan he sat up. "Tell you what?" He was starting to whine. It seemed only she could bring that out in him.

Dana's green eyes twinkled. "Why did you kiss her and leave her alone on the dance floor?"

/*/

The moment she entered the apartment , Cassidy had a wide grin on her face. It never faded as she changed into sweats; in fact it seemed to grow wider when she stepped into the kitchen. Johanna was feeding Apollo. Cassidy hummed softly as she poured a cup of coffee, noting that her friend was in a bathrobe and her hair was wrapped in a towel. "When does Andy get here?"

"He'll be here in a few minutes. You don't mind entertaining him while I get dressed, do you?" Johanna asked.

Cassidy chuckled. "Of course I don't. He's four. All it takes to entertain him is a few flatulent noises and a couple of new terms for body parts--"

"Don't you dare!" Johanna warned.

"I'm kidding," Cassidy promised. "Does your brother know you're using his son as a guy magnet?" she asked, following Johanna into the living room.

"I'm not using Andy as a guy magnet. Justin wanted to take him with us. He's in the middle of a four day break and--"

"Wanted to take you out," Cassidy supplied.

"…Right. Anyway, we're just going to the park."

"No dinner?"

"He said that dinner would be a surprise. You know how much Andy loves the park--" Johanna cut off with a smile. "He actually asked me what Andy likes to do."

"Isn't he sweet?" Cassidy cooed.

Johanna scowled at the tone her friend used. "Cass… Let's say that… Okay," she breathed. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her robe before clearing her throat. "I'm so confused, Cass."

"About what?"

Johanna's teeth worried her bottom lip. She wondered if she should even voice her worries to Cassidy. Though she was as close to a best friend that she'd ever had, Cassidy did lean to immature reactions at times. How she became an FBI agent Johanna would never understand. And she was truly scared to learn what the other woman's reaction would be. So with a sigh, she shook her head. "Nevermind. It's nothing. I'm going to dress."

She had dried her hair and was pulling a sweater over her t-shirt when she heard the familiar knock at the door. It always put a smile on her face; her nephew knocked on the door as though he were beating a conga drum. Her fault, she knew; perhaps she'd shown him one too many episodes of I Love Lucy. She paused to make sure he didn't burst into her room before brushing her hair into a low ponytail. A look out the window showed approaching clouds; she hoped it wouldn't snow. The past two days had been rather warm and sunny for New York in January. And she knew that any moisture would cause her normally wavy hair to turn into a frizzed mess.

Which was why she yanked her hair free of the band and shoved a knit cap over her head before going to the living room.

"Auntie!" Andrew squealed. Lying backwards on the couch with his head hanging upside down, he was grinning from ear to ear. "We goin' to da park?"

"Yes we are," she promised, stooping to blow a raspberry against his cheek. "We're going to the playground with a friend of mine."

"Cassy tol' me," he informed amid a squeal of laughter. With the clumsy energy of a normal four year-old he rolled off the couch. "Can we take a ride with da horses?"

"Maybe. If you're a good boy," she diverted. She had no idea what Justin's plans were after taking Andrew to the park. "Did Daddy bring your overnight bag?"

"Uh-huh. Can I watch Lucy? Now?"

"For a few minutes."

Once he was settled on the couch with his favorite blanket and an episode of I Love Lucy on the TV, Johanna went into the kitchen to find Cassidy opening packets of hot chocolate mix. "Did Dan even come in?"

"Long enough to drop Andy's stuff and tell him bye." Cassidy shrugged nonchalantly, but Johanna knew that her older brother's to the point attitude irritated her. She knew why, too, but had more sense than to bring it up. "I'm gonna skip out after fixing his chocolate, okay? Tony and I are going down to Carmine's for dinner and I need to meet him there in an hour."

Johanna nodded, watching Cassidy stir lukewarm water into the plastic mug. Cassidy wasn't going to stick around and tease her about going out with Justin? Unbelievable. Shocking. But very relieving.

/*/

"This it?" Justin asked, peering out the window at the apartment building that the car had stopped in front of. Referring to the sheet with Johanna's address on it he made sure the number was correct before reaching for the door handle. "I'll go up and get her, Mike."

But the man was already out of the car, zipping up his coat. Justin sighed when the door was opened for him. "Can't let you go up alone, you know that."

"She lives on the third floor. What can happen to me in three flights of stairs?" Justin asked with honest confusion. "Look at me, Mike. I have a big coat on and a hat and sunglasses. If you didn't know it was me, would you know it was me?"

Mike snorted on a laugh. "Just go in. I'll be behind you."

"Fine," he sighed. Once in the lobby, he looked around for the elevator. "Uh…"

"You really need to do research before going out in public," Mike told him. "Do you know which number she's in?"

"Three seventeen." Justin watched as the bodyguard stepped over to a panel of small mailboxes. He pressed a button beneath one then waited. "What now?"

"She has to let us through the door so we can go up. Don't you ever watch movies?"

"Not ones with apartment buildings," Justin muttered. When he heard a buzzing sound and a metallic click he lurched, but quickly composed himself before pushing through the unlocked door. To the left was a staircase. Taking them two at a time, he paused at the first landing. "Did you hook up that booster seat we got for Andy?"

"It just uses the seatbelt in the backseat. There's no hooking up to it."

"Joey said that this one has to be latched in with the seatbelt," Justin argued. "You'd better check. I don't want him getting hurt…"

Mike eyed him warily. "Nice try, man. Real nice try. She knows who you are, you don't have to act like she has no idea. Just go on up and knock on her door. I'll wait at the stairs."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Justin flashed a grin before hurrying up the remaining stairs.

The third floor hallway was completely bland, one nondescript door after another. When he reached Johanna's door he knocked, shifting from one foot to the other as he waited.

And waited.

What was taking so long? She couldn't have forgotten; he'd called her right after lunch to remind her what time he'd be picking her up. Knocking again, louder this time, he waited some more. Still nothing. Pressing his ear to the door, he faintly heard a TV running. Knocking louder, he yelped when the door was yanked open suddenly. His fingers clutched at but completely missed the doorframe as he fell into the apartment.

"Whoa," a voice breathed. "That was so cool!"

Justin looked up at the small figure that stood over him. His shoulder stung slightly from the fall. Legs tangled and feet sticking out of the door, he knew he made a pretty sorry sight. He focused on the small boy's face. He was grinning from ear to ear, blue eyes shining with enthusiasm. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"No. Auntie Jo tol' me to get the door 'cause she had to change 'cause I spilled my hot chocolate all over. She gave me a bath and put me in clean clothes, see?" One arm was thrust out, proudly showing off a vivid orange sweater. "Are you her new friend that's going with us to the park? Can you push me on the swing? And ride the seesaw with me?"

Justin blinked, attempting to keep up with the boy's line of thought. Slowly he pushed himself up, smiling when small hands reached to help him. Once he was on his feet and the door closed he removed his sunglasses. "Yeah, I'm her new friend. I'm Justin. I'll push you on the swing and ride the seesaw with you, okay? But first you gotta tell me your name."

"Andrew Nathaniel Tucker. Auntie Jo calls me Ant 'cause she says I'm small and move all over the place but I do know how to sit still. Everybody else calls me Andy. I'm four, how old are you?"

"Nineteen," Justin answered with a grin. He reached to shake the hand that was thrust in his direction.

"Whoa, you're old. Auntie Jo is older than you. Are you her boyfriend?"

"Um--"

"Do you kiss her? Cassy said that boyfriends always kiss their girlfriends. I tried to kiss Cindy at school but the teacher said I couldn't do that. But she's my girlfriend. Ain't I supposed to kiss her?"

"Well--"

"Are you gonna kiss Auntie Jo?"

"Andrew Nathaniel!" Johanna's voice hollered from across the living room. Immediately the boy's face broke into a worried look. Justin glanced up, smiling when he saw her coming from one of the other rooms. He realized it was the first time he'd seen her in something other than the all-black clothing she wore at work. She wore a pair of jeans and a gray sweater, which he decided looked better on her than what she wore at the club. Her auburn hair fell in loose waves past her shoulders, shining in the light as she came over and scooped Andrew up into her arms.

"He's cool," he promised.

"How many times have I told you not to talk about kissing?" she chastised with a playful glare. She carried him to the couch and gently dropped him atop the cushions before turning to Justin. "Pay no attention to him. He talks more than any other kid I've ever met and I think his father lets him watch things that no four year-old should."

"He's just a kid," Justin decided, still amused at the barrage of kiss-related questions. He thought of Dana's questions a few days before. Though she had no reason to lie, he still wondered if she'd stretched the truth about what had happened after his dance with Johanna. She showed no signs of remembering any kiss. And he was certain that he would remember if he'd kissed her. Of course, he'd been drunk. But still. There was no way he'd been so drunk he'd forget kissing her. Right?

"You ready to get going?" she was asking. The TV was switched off and Andrew was dragging a coat across the floor towards him.

"Yeah, whenever you are." He stooped to Andrew's level, reaching for the coat. Helping the boy into it he quickly zipped it up before pulling the long scarf that dangled from a pocket. Winding it loosely around his neck, he playfully draped one layer over his mouth before yanking up the hood and tying it. "Problem solved! He can't talk anymore!"

"Hey!" Andrew's voice was muffled behind the scarf.

"Perfect!" Johanna grinned as she took her coat from the rack near the door.

Laughing, Justin watched as Andrew pulled the scarf down. "Oh man, he got out of it," he breathed in a horrified whisper. Leaping behind Johanna, he ducked so his head was no longer visible. "Save me!"

Andrew launched forward but quickly stopped. Dancing from one foot to the other he gave his aunt a worried look. "I gotta go."

"Uh oh." Johanna dropped her coat and reached to free her nephew from his coat and scarf. "Hurry!"

Justin leaned to pick up the discarded coat as Andrew bolted from the room. "He's cute," he told her as she turned to look at him.

She smiled in agreement. Her hands reached for her coat but he shook his head. "Justin, I need my coat."

"I was always taught that a boyfriend helps his girlfriend into her coat when they're going somewhere," he informed with a grin.

"And just who taught you that?"

"The smartest woman I've ever known." Stepping behind her, he gently eased the coat up her arms. He let his hands rest on her shoulders for a few seconds, breathing in the soft lavender scent of her hair. "But she never mentioned anything about kissing…"

"I'm going to kill him," she muttered. Then she turned to face him, forcing him to pull his hands away. "I really appreciate you doing this, Justin. Usually when he comes over we stay inside and watch TV or read. And he loves the park…"

"Does he like picnics?"

"Picnics in the park? He adores them. He likes tossing bread out for the animals and-Why?"

"Because that's what we're doing for dinner," he informed. Seeing her eyes glow with appreciation, he knew he'd made the right choice. "First we're going to hang out at the playground and let him run around until he's exhausted. Then we're having a picnic, and I had the basket packed with all the food that I could think a little kid would like. And if we can time it right, we'll be drinking hot chocolate at sunset. After that I was thinking we could do the completely corny tourist thing and go for a carriage ride."

"Oh, Justin…"

Wait, was she starting to cry? Had he figured something wrong? She was blinking fast and her lips were working but no sound was coming out. He reached to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, wondering what he had done to put that weird look in her eyes. "Johanna, what--"

"I'm ready!" Andrew bellowed as he came rushing back into the living room.

"Justin! Look at me!" Andrew called from the monkey bars.

"I'm looking!" Justin promised with a laugh. Attempting to find the thermos of hot chocolate in the basket Mike had brought to the blanket he glanced towards the boy.

"No you ain't," Andrew decided. But he performed his trick anyway, dangling from one hand for a mere second before collapsing to the ground. "Did you see me? Did you see what I did?!"

"Yes I did! And you so rock!" Justin exclaimed, pushing the unopened thermos into Johanna's hands before scooping Andrew into his arms. Tossing him in the air playfully he laughed at the resulting squeal. "You know what a stunt like that deserves?" he asked as he carried him back to the blanket.

"Cookies!"

"Close," Justin said, collapsing onto the blanket. Breathless, he settled next to Johanna. He was amazed that a kid could have so much energy. He was like Chris with a steady drip of caffeine. They had spent hours in the park; playing on the slides and swings and the seesaw and chasing each other through the fort. It had been hard to make him sit down to eat. But once he'd seen the containers of chicken strips and macaroni and bags of cookies and other treats he refused to move until all had been consumed. Now he was rummaging through the basket, obviously in search of cookies. "We've got some hot chocolate…"

"I'm cold," Andrew announced, burrowing between Justin and Johanna so he could get beneath the heavy blankets. When the steaming cup of chocolate was passed to him he took a sip before handing it back. He snuggled close to his aunt, staring up at the sky.

Justin smiled indulgently as he poured himself some hot chocolate. He watched Johanna pull the boy into her lap so he could see the sky. She whispered some things that Justin couldn't hear, but knew by the look on Andrew's face that she was telling some sort of wild story. Shifting so he was closer, he leaned in so he could hear.

"…So the sun tucks down for the night but shines a little longer. See, all his little friends the stars want to come out and play at night. Sometimes Big Daddy moon comes out and keeps an eye on them, but sometimes he wants to stay in bed. Tonight Big Daddy's out, see?" she pointed up at the sky and Justin followed her finger to see the large full moon. He noticed several clouds were creeping in from the horizon and hoped that his planned carriage ride wouldn't be snowed out.

"Are the stars coming?" Andrew whispered sleepily.

"They'll be here soon," Johanna assured him.

Justin smiled as he lay back on the blanket. He was surprised when Andrew shifted so he was snuggled close to him, making Johanna join him at Justin's side. Without thought he lifted his arm to accommodate them, a grin tugging at his lips at the peaceful moment. He suddenly wondered if this was what it felt like to have a family. A nice woman. A kid that made him laugh. And quiet moments shared beneath a darkening sky in the park. When he saw the first twinkling of starlight he closed his eyes, thinking of his wish.

"Make your wish," Johanna whispered.

"I already did," Justin and Andrew murmured simultaneously.

/*/

Sitting next to Justin in the carriage, Johanna was amazed at how comfortable she was. Mike had taken Andrew back to the car. He'd fallen asleep within moments of seeing the first stars of the night and though she'd balked at the idea of leaving the bodyguard to deal with him, she'd finally relented when Mike promised everything would be fine. He seemed to be more concerned with Justin's safety. After hearing a short lecture on not letting Justin so much as set one foot off the carriage before they finished the circle, she'd finally been allowed to climb into the plush velvet seats.

She had been pleasantly surprised by the single, long-stemmed red rose that had been waiting for her.

She'd been further surprised and more than a bit flustered at the small box of Italian chocolates that accompanied the rose.

Now, tucked snugly beneath the heavy carriage blankets with only the sounds of the horses' hooves on the pavement, she felt at peace. Justin was next to her, head leaned back and staring up at the sky. Occasionally the ornate carriage stopped, the driver pointing out a nearby landmark.

Despite living in the city for nearly five years, she had never taken a ride in the park. Suddenly she wondered why she had never had the notion to do so. It had seemed so terribly clichéd and silly. And never had she had someone to ride with her. Especially someone as confusing as Justin.

She was so confused. It seemed each time they met he did something that only confounded her further. The diligent care to her cuts. Asking her to dance at his party. Actually dancing with her at his party. Giving her such a knee-weakening kiss. Asking her out. The kiss… Her mind constantly returned to the memory of his kiss. She could vividly recall each detail of what had perhaps only been thirty seconds at most, but had seemed to carry on for an eternity. Even now, shivering and nose numb from the cold, she could feel the warmth that had emanated from his lips.

But he seemed to have no memory of their kiss. At least, he hadn't mentioned it. Nor had he tried to repeat it. So she chalked it up to a drunken blunder, though that thought hurt.

"Are you cold?" Justin asked softly, dragging her to the present. She blinked in surprise at the sound of his voice and turned to look at him.

"A little," she admitted. In truth she wanted to bury herself beneath the blankets and seek warmth.

"C'mere." One arm snaked around her shoulder. She thought of turning down his offer, but he was already pulling her close to him. She hesitantly tucked one arm around his waist, a giggle escaping her when they both shifted for comfort. "Hang on," he grunted, releasing her. He unzipped the enormously baggy coat he wore before reaching for her again. Tucking it around her he breathed what she assumed was a happy sigh. "Better?"

"Yeah," she whispered. If he only knew, she thought wryly, closing her eyes when he held her close to him. Her cheek rested against his chest and she was blatantly aware of his heartbeat, of the arm around her shoulders and the hand that clasped hers, resting in his lap. "Thank you so much for all of this, Justin. Tonight's been… Wonderful."

"It's not over yet," he told her in a teasing tone as the carriage slowed again. "Johanna… Did--"

"If you'll look there, you'll see Bathesda Terrace and fountain," the driver announced. "The fountain is turned off in the winter, of course, but many people still throw coins in and make a wish in the colder months. The terrace was built in…"

Johanna sat up slightly as the driver continued his monologue, glancing to the lighted area he spoke of. She'd been there before, of course. She remembered many warm spring days spent rollerblading with friends around the perimeter. But that had been long ago… Blinking back the memories she murmured appropriate platitudes on its beauty.

"Johanna," Justin murmured when the carriage was underway again. She turned her face upwards to look at him. "You remember our dance at my party?"

"Did you dance with so many women that you don't remember me?" she teased softly. He smirked in reply and his fingers squeezed hers gently.

"I remember the dance," he whispered. "And you didn't step on my toes once."

"A miracle." She shrugged.

"I was talking to one of my friends and they said that… But I don't remember doing it, which is killing me, 'cause I usually remember things like that. And I'm thinking that she's just yanking my chain; Dana does that a lot. The joys of being the youngest in the group and all that, y'know? So, did we?"

"Did we what?" she blurted. Confused at first, she eyed him warily. When he hesitated, shifting with obvious discomfort, she realized just what he was talking about. He truly didn't remember. She had been floating in the memory for days and he didn't remember? How could one forget such a kiss? "Oh."

Without thinking she pulled her hand from his. She straightened on the seat as she moved her gaze to the view outside the carriage. She heard his sigh but didn't look to him. She knew if she did she would cry. "Don't worry about it, Justin."

"Don't worry about it?" he scoffed. "Johanna, did we?"

"You were obviously drunk and excited because it was your birthday. Besides, you're probably used to getting kisses all the time, so why should the one you gave me be so memorable?" She cut him a quick glance. "I didn't initiate it, if that's what you're thinking."

"Johanna, I'm sorry," he murmured. "I remember dancing with you. I remember asking you out and you telling me about your nephew. Hell, I can even remember holding you. I don't know why I can't remember our kiss. From what Dana told me, it was a pretty good one…"

"It was," she whispered. She didn't bother to brush away the tears of humiliation that welled in her eyes. Had she honestly been waiting for him to kiss her again? She was so stupid. She released a strangled sort of laugh. "For an international pop star that's only nineteen, you're a pretty good kisser, Jerry."

"I am?" He cleared his throat, and she saw the quick flash of pride in his eyes. "I mean. Yeah, I am."

"Not that I've kissed that many pop stars or anything," she amended. For some reason, she suddenly felt playful. The tense moment was gone. "There was that European prince, you know. And when I dated that rich oil tycoon I received many kisses. And I can't forget my devastatingly handsome rich ex-husband… But no international pop stars."

"And where would my kiss fall in those ranks?" he asked with a grin as he reached for her hand once more.

"Well, let's see…" she trailed, looking up at the sky. The moon was no longer visible and sparse snowflakes were starting to fall. "There are so many things to grade a kiss on. Location is important, as is time of day. And there are other factors. Degree of intimacy… The amount of spine-tingles… So many things to consider, you know."

"Then I should do it again."

Johanna gasped softly when his hand slid up her arm. Gloveless fingers that were warm despite the severely cold temperature cupped her cheek. Their fogged breath mingled between them. Her heart tripped over itself when he shifted closer, his eyes intent on hers. "Justin…"

"How's this location?" he asked softly. His thumb brushed over her skin. She focused on the snowflakes that landed on his nose and immediately melted.

"Perfect," she whispered. She didn't even bother to look around.

"And nighttime is good? Adds to the intimacy, right?"

"Yes," she hissed.

"So now I just have to work on the spine-tingling," he murmured. He tucked his face closer to hers. Hot breath coursed over her cheek a second before his lips brushed against her skin.

"So far so good," she promised.

"Touch me," he whispered against her cheek.

She nodded dumbly. Her hands rested on his chest, palms flattening against him before sliding to his shoulders. She kept her hands beneath his coat, allowing the warmth of him to radiate up her fingers. Just as her fingers brushed his neck, his lips covered hers.

She'd always wondered. Life had turned her into such a cynic she was skeptical about the way movies and books portrayed kisses. She'd never felt the all-encompassing intimacy that came from a pair of lips against hers. She'd never felt as though time had stopped at such a moment. In all actuality she had thought kisses to be rather bland and boring.

But now she realized how wrong she had been. Perhaps she had been right about location, time, and intimacy. The way his mouth slid over hers in the barest of caresses maintained a steady tingle in her spine. She honestly forgot everything else that was going on; she could no longer hear the steady clop-clop of the horses' hooves, nor the distant sounds of traffic within the city. She was only aware of him; the way his hand continued to cup her cheek, how his other hand gently tangled itself in her hair. How his lips parted and the heat of his breath caused her own lips to part in anticipation. The way their tongues met. She could taste the hot chocolate he'd drank earlier, as well as the slightest trace of peppermint.

Simultaneously they moved closer and his hand left her cheek, reaching beneath her jacket to rest on her waist. She could feel every muscle in her body tense with excitement. When his hand slid over her hip beneath the blanket she brazenly leaned against him, hoping against hope that he was feeling the same sensations as she. He guided her leg over his lap and she followed eagerly as her fingers tangled gently in the curls at the nape of his neck, not feeling the carriage stop.

The driver cleared his throat. "Here we are--"

"Ten more minutes," Justin requested. It came out as a mumble, the tips of his fingers trailing through Johanna's hair. His lips barely parted from hers.

Johanna had immediately stiffened with embarrassment. She started to pull away but he managed to keep her close with the gentle pressure of his hand against her thigh. His forehead rested against hers and she realized he was as breathless as she was. He lifted his head, fingers loosing from their hold of her hair as she dropped her forehead to his chest. When she felt him tense she knew the moment had passed.

"Fuck," he breathed. "Mike."

She nodded, easing away from him as he continued to curse under his breath. She took a moment to compose herself, carefully buttoning her coat as Justin spoke to the driver. She heard rather than saw the money changing hands before the blanket was being pulled away. Justin grabbed up the rose and chocolate before hopping down, holding out a hand to assist her.

Mike was waiting next to the car; his face impassive as he held the door open for them. Johanna was grateful to see that Andrew slept peacefully in his booster seat. With a shuddering breath she settled in the seat next to him, glancing up as Justin climbed in next to her.

"You okay?" he asked softly. She saw his hand resting, open, on his thigh and wondered if it was an invitation. She resisted temptation, busying herself with putting her gloves on.

"Yeah," she promised.

"How'd I do?" he whispered. His hand covered hers and she lifted her gaze to see his smile.

"…She said I was number two," Justin muttered. His voice held disbelief as he talked about the night before and he was staring up at the ceiling as he lay across his hotel bed. He was supposed to be packing to go home for a few days before the promo tour began in earnest. But Joey had come in to ask about his date with Johanna so packing had been diverted. He seemed grateful for the distraction.

"What the hell does it take to make number one?" Joey asked. Sprawled in the armchair by the window, he was lazily spinning a basketball between his hands. He was amused at Justin's attitude. From all appearances the date had been a success. For Justin, of course. He would have preferred a tale of how they tucked the nephew in for the night then spent hours in the bedroom but he knew his friend better than to expect that.

"Apparently you have to be a European prince or some shit," Justin grumbled.

"Oh, is that all?" Joey laughed. When he saw Justin's serious expression the laughter died on his lips. "Look, Curly, she was probably just joshing you."

"It's hard to tell with her," Justin told him with a sigh. He groaned and sat up. Idly, he tossed a stack of folded t-shirts into the open suitcase on the bed.

"…You like her a lot, huh?" Joey observed.

"Well. I… She's pretty cool. She's not all 'ohmygod you're Justin!' whenever we're talking or whatever." Justin threw his hands up before flopping back onto the bed.

"Yeah, that makes a difference," Joey murmured, pushing the basketball onto the floor. He watched it roll towards the door and was about to go after it when a sneaker-clad foot stopped it.

"Wish I could see her again before leaving," Justin said as Dana entered the room.

"Awe, sweetheart," she cooed dramatically. Brows furrowed with worry she draped her lean body over the bed, her head tucking itself neatly on Justin's shoulder. One hand splayed over her forehead. "I'll be so lonesome without you!" she cried, voice dripping with a Southern twang that had Joey laughing. "If only our love could be allowed to blossom like the magnolia tree in Daddy's yard! But alas, my darlin', we're destined to live apart! For Joshua has laid claim to me, body and soul! But never fear, for like sands through the hourglass, my love will go on!"

With a heavy groan Justin pushed her away. He cursed when she rolled off the bed, knocking his suitcase to the floor. "Deck! I spent hours folding those shirts!"

"Bullshit and you know it!" she fired back. "Your idea of folding a shirt is just smashing it together. Irons weep when they see your laundry, Timbersnake."

"At least pick them up?" he asked with a scowl as he snatched up his suitcase.

Dana mumbled under her breath as she gathered the scattered t-shirts. Wadding several between her hands she flung them towards Justin, throwing her arms up in triumph when the landed atop Justin in a heap. "I so need to be in the WNBA."

"Like they'd ever accept someone as short as you," Justin scoffed as he crammed his t-shirts back into the suitcase.

"If they let me play in heels I could be tall," she retorted. "Couldn’t I, Joey?"

"Oh, sure. You'd tower over the bench," he said with a smirk. "Tell me again how Jayce manages to kiss you?"

"He hauls me up to him," Dana informed. After tossing the rest of the t-shirts onto the bed she laid back on the floor. "Then I wrap my arms around his neck and just hold on, because--"

"Too much, too much!" Justin cried. "Leave it at that, okay? It's bad enough I have to hear you two through the wall. I don't need a visual commentary."

"Speaking of commentary… How did your date with Johanna go last night?"

"It was fine and it wasn't a date."

"Um, excuse me? You took a picnic dinner to the park. You watched the sunset, right?" When he nodded she grinned. "It was so a date."

"They took a carriage ride through the park," Joey supplied.

"Really?" Dana's eyes widened with interest.

"Just the two of them going through the park in the snow," Joey sighed romantically. "Mike even watched after her nephew so Curly could get a little action--"

"He was asleep!"

"The fact stands that you and Johanna were alone. In a carriage. In Central Park. At night. In the snow. And you kissed." Joey held up a finger for each fact he stated before looking to Dana again. "He even bought her roses."

"Joey--"

"How many?" Dana asked with interest. Leaving her spot on the floor she jumped onto the bed. "You didn't go cliché and do a dozen, did you?"

"One rose," Justin ground out. "One long-stemmed red rose. Anymore questions?"

"Was that all you gave her?"

"She mentioned that she liked a certain kind of chocolates so I picked up a box…"

"Awe, Timbersnake. That's so sweet," Dana cooed. Joey noticed that this time her tone wasn't teasing. "What else?"

"What do you mean? We rode through the park. We talked and looked at the sites. We--"

"Shared a kiss that melted all the snow within a two-mile radius," Joey supplied. "Did you know that Curly forgot he kissed her at his party? How fucking stupid was that…"

"Did you tell her that?" Dana asked Justin.

"Tell her what?" JC asked from the doorway.

"That he forgot all about that passionate kiss he gave her at his party," Dana answered immediately. "I would be so pissed if that happened to me. Imagine thinking a guy's really into you and then you find out that he had no clue it happened."

Joey wrinkled his nose. "I don't want to imagine locking lips with a guy. Thanks, Dana."

"Okay, the other way around then. Josh! Remember our first kiss?" Dana inquired, patting the mattress in invitation. When her boyfriend sat down she wrapped her arms around him from behind. "You do remember, don't you?"

"Of course I do," JC promised. "It was at the barbecue at Justin's house in Florida."

"Did you think about it a lot in the time between our kiss and the next time you saw me?"

"Dana…"

"Seriously. We're among friends, baby."

"Fine. Yes, I did."

"Wouldn't you have been mad as hell if you said something about it the next time you saw me and I looked at you like you were nuts? Because remembering the first kiss only brings more anticipation for the next one. And if you realize that the other person has no recollection it's like a major blow to your self-esteem."

"Thank you, Dr. Ruth," Justin snorted. "Johanna was cool about it, though."

"You kissed her again?" JC asked.

Joey glanced up when he heard the derision in JC's voice. He vaguely recalled Justin mentioning the fact that JC had been less than polite to Johanna but had chalked it up to over exaggeration. Noting the sour expression on JC's face he cleared his throat. He didn't want the moments of relaxation ruined by attitude.

"Stop being a sourpuss," Dana muttered. "Are you grouchy 'cause you didn't get your full ten hours of sleep last night?"

"I'm not grouchy. We all know that this chick isn't the right type for Justin."

/*/

"What the fuck is your problem?" Dana asked as soon as she and JC entered their hotel room. She waited until he had shut the door before turning to face him. Hands on her hips she glared at him. She knew when she saw the look on his face that her question would not be answered in an acceptable manner. "How do you know that this girl isn't the right type for JuJu?"

"Dana, baby, I've met her."

"Once, for all of thirty seconds. So in the time it takes you to piss you figured out that she wasn't Justin's type? Fucking please," she spat. "It took you less time than that to ask me for a lap dance--"

"Would you listen?" he interrupted. He scowled as he pushed an open suitcase aside with his foot. It occurred to Dana that they really should start packing; they were going to be in the city one more day before flying down to visit his family for a week.

But for now she only wanted answers. Never before had she seen her boyfriend act so unlike the man she'd fallen in love with. Sitting primly on the bed, she folded her arms across her chest. "I'm listening."

"Think back on the girls he's shown interest in over the past year," JC started. Dana watched him pick up the suitcase and set it on the bed. With a huff of a sigh she shrugged. Glancing up when there was a soft knock on the door she watched JC step back to open it.

"Jayce, what's--"

"Hold on, Joe. He's explaining something to me," Dana interrupted. She tapped one foot against the floor in agitation. "Go on, baby."

"Fine. Darlene."

"Ugh, that bimbo with more tits than brains," Dana grunted.

"Samantha."

"The girl whose bleached hair weighed more than the rest of her body…"

"Chantal."

"That whore? I still want to castrate Joey for introducing him to her!"

Joey sputtered. "Me?! You're the one who introduced her to me!"

"That's different!" Dana fired back. She hadn't realized that introducing what she perceived to be the perfect one-night stand to Joey would backfire. How was she to know that Chantal would prefer Justin's company?

JC cleared his throat, bringing her attention back to their conversation. "Britney."

"The biggest airhead in the world who couldn't pour piss out of a boot with directions printed on the heel…" Dana groaned, finally catching his reasoning. "Josh…"

"You didn't see her, Dana. I don't know what he thinks is going to happen, but there's no way that they could actually become a couple."

"Enlighten me. Please. What does Johanna look like?"

"She's hot," Joey supplied as he flopped onto the bed. "She's a little short like you, Dana. But damn does she have some curves--"

"You're not helping, Joe," JC muttered.

"What? If Curly wasn't showing such an interest in her I definitely would!"

"Dana," JC sighed. "I know I can't explain it in a way that you'd understand. But trust me when I say that Justin would be making a big mistake if he seriously tries to start something with her."

"I just can't believe that the sweet loveable guy I'm dating is so superficial," Dana snorted. "Are you dissing her because she's not some perfect size six? Jesus, I'm not even a size six!"

"You're different--"

"Bullshit! If I'd been a big girl when we met, would you have asked me out? Wait, let me correct that. Would you have pushed a wad of cash down my bra and asked me for a lap dance if I'd been big?"

"That question isn't relevant and you know it," JC answered. "You were never as big as--"

"Stop. Stop right there. I was big, Joshua Scott. And you know that. You know it took me a long time and hard work to get rid of the fat girl persona. I still have it some days."

"Dana…" JC practically whined her name. "Can we not get into this now?"

"Why? Afraid I won't give you sex?" Dana dug an elbow into Joey's side when he laughed. "Afraid I won't want to just fall to my knees praising God for your massive dick after hearing that you only asked me out because I was skinny?"

"Baby--"

"Don't 'baby' me. As far as I'm concerned you can take that baby and shove it up your ass," she hissed, afraid to raise her voice above a whisper for fear of him hearing the hurt. "Joe, wanna go catch a movie?"

"…What?"

"A movie? Big screen in a dark room? They show pictures that move?" she explained.

"Sure, but…"

"Let's go." Hopping to her feet Dana snatched up her purse. "Call me when the asshole that's taken over my boyfriend is gone, Josh."

/*/

"…Got our tee time reserved for tomorrow. Really lookin' forward to trying out my new clubs 'cause…"

Justin nodded mechanically as he dropped the basket of clean laundry on the floor by his bed. Pushing it aside with one foot he moved to pull the suitcase from the center of his bed. He no longer had the motivation for packing. He looked to his computer and thought of checking his email. But he'd already done that and not even ten minutes ago; no way there was anything waiting in his inbox. So he flopped across the bed and reached for the remote, motioning for Trace to get out of the way.

Trace rolled his eyes before dropping into a beanbag chair. "So there I was. Hand up her skirt and my pants dropping to my knees when she decided to just go down and--"

"What?" Justin blurted. Forgetting the TV, he whipped his head up to stare at his friend. "Wait, back up!"

"I'm just fucking kidding," Trace said with a chuckle. "What's with you? You've been out of it all damn day."

"Just tired from New York," Justin answered. He shrugged as he turned the TV on and began channel surfing. "I'm not looking forward to the promo tour," he admitted with a groan. He only had another day at home before he would be back on the road. Then, what, a week between promos and the album launch. Then the tour. With an involuntary shudder he continued his channel surfing. "You're still going, right?"

"Unless you decide to boot my ass off it, yeah, I am." Trace grabbed the remote from his hands and backed up several channels. He stopped on a basketball game they had both seen already. Without thinking Justin's gaze moved to the computer once again. "…Y'know, looking at the screen won't make her email you any quicker, J."

"I know-What?"

"You've been moping around like a puppy all damn day," Trace told him. "Why don't you just call her and get it over with?"

"…Call who?"

"The chick that's got you so fucking bummed out."

"I'm not bummed out," Justin defended. "I just haven't heard from her in two days."

"Call her. She's probably sitting by the phone waiting for you to call anyway," Trace decided with a shrug. "Go ahead, make her day."

"She's definitely not sitting by the phone," Justin argued, chuckling. "Not Johanna."

"Ah, she has a name," Trace sighed. "So, tell me all about her."

"Why do you want to know?" Justin asked warily.

"Because… I'm your best friend and you tell me everything?"

Good enough, Justin decided. "You remember at the club when I told you I went to the bathroom because of bad seafood? I wasn't in the bathroom. I was with a bartender."

"…Did you score some good liquor?"

"No… It wasn't about that. Jayce and I saw her at the DJ booth and he was an ass to her so I went to apologize and… Ended up in the staff bathroom with her--"

"You fucking got laid?!" Trace blurted. His features softened with pure awe.

"No!"

"Then what were you doing with her in the bathroom?!"

Groaning loudly Justin pulled a pillow over his head. Quickly he told everything to his friend. He conveniently left out the drunken kiss on his birthday because he knew Trace would never let him live it down. When he finished, he waited for the inevitable.

"So…you've known her… About two weeks?"

"Ten days…" Justin trailed uncomfortably, head still beneath the pillow.

"And all you've done is slip her the tongue?"

"Yes," Justin replied, dragging the word out.

"What is she, a fucking dog?"

"No! She's… She's different, okay?"

"J's got himself a virgin," Trace cackled.

"I do--" Justin cut off abruptly as he set up, letting the pillow fall to the floor. As far as he knew, Johanna wasn't a virgin. But it wasn't as though he actually had proof… Besides, she was older. Surely she wasn't a virgin. Right? "It's not that. She's just not the type for a quick fuck in the hotel and a goodbye the next morning."

"Oh… She got a nice rack?" Trace asked after a moment.

Justin's lips slid into a wicked grin. "Amazing."

He was just starting to describe his good-night kiss - given with Mike watching and holding Andrew while Johanna fumbled with her keys - when he heard his mother's voice calling his name from downstairs. He motioned for Trace to mute the TV before hollering, "Yeah, Ma? We're up here!"

Moments later Lynn Harless was stepping into the room. She paid no attention to the mounds of laundry that were scattered about; she merely stepped over them before sitting on the edge of the bed. "Is there something you forgot to tell me about your trip to New York?"

"…No?" Justin asked meekly. Wondering if she'd heard from Johnny about his hangover, he was about to defend his actions when he saw the tabloid in her hands. "What?"

Lynn opened the paper without a word. Folding it in half she placed it in Justin's outstretched hand. Justin's gaze fell to the page of grainy photos. His mouth gaped when he recognized himself pushing Andrew on the swing. Jerking the paper closer to his face he stared at the image, remembering each detail of that particular moment. He could still feel the biting wind and hear Andrew's squeals of laughter. He could still picture Johanna's smiling face when he'd glanced back to see her watching.

Moving to the next picture he felt the weight of the small boy as he carried him to the blanket for hot chocolate. He could see her hair whipping in the breeze. Could taste the hot chocolate… Clearing his throat he went to the next picture, cursing under his breath when he saw himself and Johanna in the carriage. Their hands clasped, the red rose in her lap. Then, finally, a blown-up picture that took half the page and showed in grainy detail his and Johanna's kiss. They'd even drawn a block around his necklace for comparison with another picture of him from months before. But his focus was on himself and Johanna. Her hand on his neck, his fingers were in her hair. Despite the anger that was boiling within him at someone having the gall to take pictures of a private moment, he could still feel her lips beneath his.

"…Fuck," he finally breathed.

Don't worry about what's going on, okay? They're all just after a story that'll sell magazines. It'll blow over in a few days. Nothing to worry about, promise. -- Call me. J

Johanna sighed as she closed the email. Nothing to worry about. Easy for him to say. He wasn't the one who was getting calls from every relative asking why a grainy picture of him was in a tabloid. He wasn't the one who'd been told to take a couple days off because people at work were gossiping. Nothing to worry about, she mimicked in her mind as she stared at her home page. Finally mustering the courage, she typed something into the search box.

It took a while to find what she was looking for. She was about to give up and actually go down to the corner and buy the magazine when she found a discussion board dedicated to NSYNC. Her brow furrowed when she realized she had to register before she would be allowed to view posts. Several unladylike grumbles came from her lips as she came up with an alias. Almost as an afterthought she put her location as North Carolina.

"Finally," she muttered when a message popped up informing her she was registered.

What she was looking for happened to be the first topic on the board. The scanned images appeared on her screen slowly. Justin helping Andrew onto a swing, both grinning. Justin carrying Andrew to the blanket, where she was waiting. The angle of the photo showed only her profile. Not enough for casual acquaintances to recognize her, but clear enough for her family and close friends to know who it was. She stared at the picture, remembering the moment. They had all been laughing at Andrew's stunts on the monkey bars. She could still hear Justin's laugh…

With a sigh she scrolled down. What she saw brought forth a gasp. The carriage they had ridden in. The man was so obviously Justin - the magazine had even blown up the detail of his JRT necklace as proof - and he was leaning close to her. Her face wasn't showing, but she could see her own red hair. She recognized her green knit cap. Her favorite black coat. Staring, she could even see the long-stemmed rose he'd given her, lying in her lap.

The last image had been taken while they kissed. The photographer had apparently zoomed in; Justin's hand in her hair, their lips together. Her fingers on his neck. Snow flying.

Shaking, she tore her gaze from the monitor when she heard Apollo's inquiring meow from her feet. He nudged her leg with his head before jumping up to curl in her lap. Grateful for the distraction she nuzzled him as he settled down. Then, his purr ringing in her ears, she began to read the comments.

- Who is she??

- Ugh she's lucky. I wish Justin would kiss ME in the snow!!

- She's f*ckin ugly. He must have been drunk!

- ^ Idiot, Justin never drinks!!

- ^ He does. I saw him. He was plastered after their show in Denver.

- "Who is she??" … Nobody I've seen. Is that her kid? Justin looks like he's having fun.

- Justin, plz dump her. You can do so much better.

- Ick, she's too fat. It says they had a picnic I think she musta ate all the food.

- Shamu! Lips off my man!

- I thought he was dating Britney??

Angrily she closed the browser window and pushed herself from the computer before reading anymore. Ignoring Apollo's yelp as he rolled to the floor she reached for the phone. Fully prepared to dial Cassidy's cell number and pour out her fears and worries. But, staring at the phone, she set it down with a sigh. Cassidy probably already knew. Cassidy would probably burst into the apartment in an hour or so full of questions and admonitions and teasing comments.

How could she have been so stupid? She should have known that Justin would have at least one or two paparazzi following him. Despite his striving to blend in, he stuck out. He was easy to spot if someone knew his face. Which of course most people did. She should have known something would go wrong after such a magical night.

Nothing to worry about.

Sniffling she picked the phone up again. Dialing the number of the one person she knew wouldn't chide her for her behavior. The one person she was sure would listen to everything and then offer sound advice.

"…Momma?"

/*/

Justin kept the phone tucked between his ear and shoulder as he paced the living room of the hotel suite. The curtains were open and gave a magnificent view of Los Angeles at night but he barely noticed. He had been grateful when everyone else opted to go out to a club. Trace had hesitated when Justin said he wanted to stay in. He'd finally managed to talk his friend into going with everyone else. He'd wanted to be alone for the conversation he was about to have.

He would have it. If she ever picked up the phone. It was on its twentieth ring when he turned to pace back to the windows. Twenty-first when he snatched a cold soda from the mini fridge. Twenty-second when he took his first sip. "Fucking come on and answer--"

"Hello?"

Relief washed over him when he heard her voice. He actually jumped in surprise, because he'd been certain she would never answer. But then he felt anger at her making him wait. "What took you so damn long to answer the phone?"

"…Excuse me? I just walked in the damn door to find that my cat has puked all over the fucking carpet and the phone wouldn't stop ringing and you're copping an attitude?"

"You didn't tell me you were going out today," he grunted. Childishly, he realized when he heard her irritated sigh. About to apologize, he stopped at her next words.

"I wasn't aware that you tongue-raping my throat suddenly gave you complete access to everything I do. I'm so sorry. I should have called and asked your permission before taking in a late movie with Danny. Is it okay with you if I take off my coat?"

"Johanna…"

"No really, I want to know. Maybe you want me to roast in my apartment. Because the fucking thermostat is set on eighty. Eighty! No damn wonder the cat's been sick. I've only been in here five minutes and already I feel like puking."

"Johanna," he whispered. "I'm sorry I snapped. I just…"

"You're just a guy. And guys think that women should be at their beck and call no matter what. Fucking typical." He heard a sharp sniffle in her voice. Sinking onto the nearest couch he stared at the drink in his hands. "I've had the day from hell, Justin. Everyone who knows me has been showing me those pictures. Somebody has started spreading around that it is me and at an audition this afternoon the woman had the nerve to ask me if I thought fucking a singer would further my career. What career? Slinging drinks for clubbers? Because she sure as hell couldn't be talking about my acting career. One commercial in two years does not make it a career. It makes me a fucking laughingstock. On top of that I broke my nail in the subway this afternoon and it still fucking hurts. My apartment is like a fucking cyclone hit it and I haven't sat down since lunch so my feet are killing me. And you decide to give me attitude over not telling you I was going out today?"

He cut in quickly when she paused for breath. "Johanna, I'm so sorry. If I'd known some asshole was out there taking pictures I wouldn't have taken you to the park. I had no idea some paparazzi jerk was hiding behind a tree." He sighed. "Not that I'm ashamed of you or anything. I just don't want you to be uncomfortable. I've seen and heard of so many celebrities who want a normal relationship and it ends up being fucked because of the media. I don't want that to happen to us. I can't make the pictures disappear. I can't make people stop being bitchy to you. All I can do is say I'm sorry."

"Justin," she sighed. "I shouldn't have taken it out on you. It's just… I really wanted that part and she honestly thought I was… God I wanted to bitch slap her."

"You should have."

"Sure. Then I'll have a reputation as being volatile as well as fucking you. Fun."

"Did you tell her that we didn't…?" he let his question hang. Not quite sure how to phrase it.

"No I didn't. It's none of her business. I simply told her that my personal life is private and should have no bearing on what I want to do professionally."

"…And?"

"…I go back next week to test for the director," she admitted.

"What's it for?"

"A spot on a sitcom. One episode with a callback for future episodes if they decide to pursue the storyline."

"Be sure and tell me when it's taped. I want to be there," he murmured. He couldn't put a finger on exactly why he wanted to watch her perform. She had told him during their first long telephone conversation about her goal to be an actress. And he knew that she could do it. If only someone gave her a chance.

"…Did I thank you for the flowers?" she asked hesitantly.

Justin's lips slid into a wide grin. "Did you like them?" he returned. Hoping the florist he'd had Johnny call for him had chosen the right ones.

"They're beautiful. How did you know I love daffodils? And they smell so good… Just like the ones my Grandma used to have all over her yard."

"Used to?" he repeated. He shifted on the couch, sprawling his legs down its length as he made himself comfortable.

"She had to move into the nursing home after Papa died. Without him around there wasn't anyone to do all the little things that crop up, y'know? She did try to do what she could but the house was too big and… Well my uncles are selfish bastards who preferred looking after their own needs than the needs of the woman who gave birth to them and took care of them until the day they got married." Johanna heaved a miserable sigh. "She hates the nursing home. Not that it's one of those places that's one step from being a hospital. It's almost a retirement village. But she has to check in and out with the person at the desk every time she comes home or leaves. She's not allowed to drive her car because they don't allow cars within the gates… She's miserable and I hate that I'm not close enough to take her in and let her live with me."

"Where is she?" Justin asked. He knew that Johanna was from somewhere in the South by the soft twang in her voice, but he'd never gotten around to asking her just where.

"Back home. Kentucky," she supplied.

"You're a Wildcat?" he groaned in disbelief, actually slapping a hand over his face.

She laughed softly as water ran in the background. "You have something against Wildcats?"

"Nope, not at all. Especially considering the Vols kicked their ass last year." He beamed with pride.

"Only by seven points, don't go into the fight song or anything," she snorted. "Hang on a second."

He mumbled a reply as the phone clattered. Shifting so he could reach his soda he listened to her talk to Apollo. Chastising him for puking on the carpet instead of in the kitchen. The cat merely mewed in response. Justin chuckled. She was one of the few people he knew who actually talked to their pet. Chris talked to Busta every chance he could; it was only a matter of time before the dog started talking back.

"Okay, I'm here. Remind me never to let that damn cat eat fish again."

"…Sure."

"How's the promo tour going?" she asked suddenly. "Aren't you out west somewhere?"

"LA. From here we go to Phoenix. Then Denver. Then Seattle. Then… I forget."

"When do you get to go home again?"

Without thinking he had slid off the couch and was moving to his room. He left the door open as he padded to the bed. "Couple weeks. Then I have a few days off before I come to New York again for the MTV thing for the launch of the album."

"Then what?"

"Then… No clue. Hopefully I have a couple days off in New York." He stretched across the bed, gathering a pillow to tuck under his head as he stared at the ceiling.

"Why's that?"

There was no teasing in her voice. None of that too sultry I-know-you-want-to-hook-up tone that always made him cringe when he'd heard it from others. Just a simple, innocent question. He smiled at the ceiling. "I was thinking you and I could get together for dinner or something. Maybe you could come to the hotel and we could catch a movie on TV?"

"You don't have a closet full of photographers do you? Because the last thing I want is to see pictures of myself in your bed…"

Justin's mouth worked silently for a long moment. His throat suddenly dry and constricted when he pictured her in his bed. Unbidden images of porcelain skin and auburn waves danced through his mind and he had to shake his head to clear them away.

"Are you there?"

"Yeah," he squeaked. Then, clearing his throat he managed a deeper, "Yeah. I'm here."

"You okay?"

"Fine. Just…" He scrambled for an excuse. "My throat's kind of sore."

"Awe. Doesn't an international pop star have a bevy of women he can call to bring him chicken soup?"

"It's only helpful if it's homemade. The women I could call would just sling a can into the room," he snorted.

"You just haven't found the right woman, Jerry. When you do, I'm sure she'll risk breaking a fingernail to make you chicken soup," she teased. "But you probably should get some rest. Drink some warm tea with honey. No soda, that only irritates. And if it still hurts in the morning drink warm tea with lemon and honey and get some mentholated cough drops or some of that medicated throat spray."

"…Okay, Mom," he consented with a chuckle.

"Ugh. Sorry. Andrew always gets sore throats, so I know what I'm talking about. Just take care of yourself, okay?" There was a hint of amusement in her voice. "Can't have all the twelve year olds crying because their idol can't sing."

"That would be a tragedy," he decided.

"The world as we know it would be finished. Or, ohmigod, they would all start worshipping some other blonde international pop star!"

"Don't say that," he groaned. "They may get urges."

"You're so vain," she teased with a laugh. "But get some rest, okay? It's what, close to midnight there?"

"Yeah…" he trailed, not bothering to look at the clock. "I'll call you tomorrow?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"Because if you don't want me to call you tomorrow, this is where you put in some lame excuse."

"I don't have any lame excuses, Jerry."

He was grinning again. He realized that he tended to do that a lot when he talked to her. "I'll call you tomorrow."

"That's better. And get some tea before you go to sleep. It'll help your throat."

"Will do. Take care, Johanna."

"Good night, Justin," she murmured.

He ended the call and continued to stare at the ceiling, unable to wipe the goofy smile from his face. Was she truly concerned about his health? Was that why she'd launched into a list of things for him to do to ease his sore throat? A sore throat he didn't really have…

With a sigh he climbed off the bed. He rubbed his neck wearily as he shuffled back into the living room. He would sit up and find a movie or something to watch until the others got back. He knew sleep wouldn't come so early.

But first, he found Lance's box of soothing tea. He managed to boil water on the hotplate in the kitchenette without catching anything on fire. He added honey and sipped the tea without complaint before collapsing onto the couch. Just so he could tell Johanna he had. Because he knew she would ask.

And when Trace, JC and Dana came into the suite hours later, all laughing and full of energy from the club they found Justin fast asleep with the TV off.