Pairing: JC and Lance
Words: stroke; fate; insatiable; empower


Because sometimes they're slow like that, their first clue
something's wrong is when Chris and Joey board the bus with the
second Lance.

The wrong part would be how Lance is already sitting on the couch
next to Justin.

Still.  Lonnie's arrival with JC and half-carrying a third Lance
who has his shirt mostly torn off is definitely a clue.

No one, though, thinks of the real first clue.  But since it had
been three months ago, they'd mostly forgotten.  After all, who
holds a grudge for three months just because someone sees their
picture in a magazine, and puts it up with a note saying, 'Hey,
Lance, Nick Carter's looking kinda hot here."

Lance.  That's who.

Justin looks around.  "Weird," he says.

"Whoa," Chris says.  "Totally trippy."

The Lance without a shirt sits down hard, in a state of shock.

Lonnie looks between them.  "Hell."

JC flutters over shocked Lance.  "Are you okay?  L-lance?  Lance? 
Lance?"

"He was outside the bus," Lonnie says.  "The crowd had him.  Lucky
thing we spotted him."

The Lance without a shirt looks up at JC and blinks.  He turns his
head toward Lonnie.  "Thanks."

"Just doing my job," Lonnie says.  "I think."

Joey picks up the second Lance -- the second one on the bus, that
is -- and carries him over to the table.  "He feels like Lance,"
Joey declares, sitting down and pulling Lance onto his lap.

Lance shoves at Joey's arm and gets up.  "What the hell do you
think you're doing?"

"Holding.  It's fun.  Come back."

"Okay," Chris says.  "Will the real Lance Bass please stand up?"

Nobody stands.  Joey's Lance finds a place to sit.

Justin goes into the back to call Johnny.

"Well," Chris says brightly.  "I guess we're all going to Denver
together then."

"That's kidnapping," the first Lance says.

"Gotta work tomorrow," says Lance without-a-shirt.  He's slurring
his words a little.

Joey looks at them both.  "How old are you?"

"22."

"27."

"25."

"I want that one," JC says, pointing to shocked and shirtless
Lance.

Chris frowns.  "So what you're trying to say is that there's at
least four Lance Basses out there?  These guys and the real Lance
Bass?"

Lonnie looks grim.  "We'll start looking.  In the meantime, nobody
leaves the bus."

JC frowns.  "What about the other bus?  Maybe real Lance is on the
other bus."

Lonnie nods.  "I'll check."

Chris' eyes narrow.  "What if the real Lance *is* here?"

Justin comes back out and sits down.  "Johnny says to see which one
knows the choreography for tomorrow."

"I don't dance," Joey's Lance says.

"Hah!" Chris says.  "We caught you, Bass."

Joey coughs.

The first Lance says, "Does dirty dancing count?" and waggles his
eyebrows.

Lance without-a-shirt has his head cuddled against JC's shoulder
and has to be prodded to answer.  "Huh?  Dance?  Why?"

"For the singing.  During the show?" JC prompts, wrapping his arm
around to hold Lance closer.

"What show?"

"Amnesia!" Chris says.  "Aha!"

"What do you do, honey?" JC asks.

"I work.  At an office."

"Doing what?"

"Stuff.  Numbers.  'M an accountant."

"Cool!"  JC pecks Lance's temple.  "D'you feel okay?"

"No?"

"What hurts?" JC asks, worried.  He moves around completely behind
Lance, holding him gently.

"My head.  I was already having a shitty day before I stopped in at
the bar and then those girls..."  He shudders.

A phone rings.  There's fumbling at pockets until Chris answers
his.  "Yeah?  Shit.  Yeah, I'll tell them.  No, I'm not worried
yet.  My bet is that one of these bozos is the *real* Lance and
that he's got some sort of elaborate ruse going on here."  He hangs
up.  "Nada on the 'Lance on the other bus' theory."

Joey frowns.  Then he loudly announces, "Men having sex with each
other is against God and all that is right and decent."

Joey's Lance snorts.  "Yeah, right.  Why'd you have me on your lap
then?"

"Nope, not that one."  The real Lance would explode.

Lance without-a-shirt is looking dazedly at JC.  The other Lance
looks bored.

"No, see," Chris says, excited.  "This is a Lance-plot!  It's like
that TV show where they had three people on and the contestants had
to guess who was the real one.  He's gonna lie, too!  And like, he
hired the other guys to pretend to be him and it's all about... uh. 
Something."

"Nobody hired me," the Lance leaning against JC says.  "I was
trying to get to the bus stop and I cut across this parking lot and
then I got attacked."  He shudders.

"What he said," says the first Lance.

"Yeah," says Joey's Lance.

"You didn't *all* get jumped in the parking lot," Chris says.  He
points at Joey's Lance.  "We walked out with you.  You were
*chatting* with us.  You were pretending to be Lance then."

"This one isn't ours, Chris," JC says.  He rubs his hand over
Lance's chest.  "No scar."

Chris rolls his eyes.  "Plastic surgery, remember?  Vain ass Bass
couldn't stand being scarred for the cameras."

"No.  It still feels funny.  This..." He rubs at Lance's chest,
"doesn't."

"So what you're saying," Chris says, "is that we get to feel up the
other two?"

Joey's Lance crosses his arms protectively over his chest.  "No way
in hell."

The other Lance looks at Chris, a challenge in his eyes.  "Go
ahead.  Try it."

Chris looks indecisive for a minute then flings himself on Lance
number one.

A bit of scuffling later and Chris is face down on the floor, arm
twisted up behind his back, with the Lance guy kneeling on him.

Joey blinks.  "And what do *you* do?"

The guy looks up, flashing his teeth.  "Whatever I want to."  He
lets go of Chris and sits back down, the picture of assured
confidence.

Chris picks himself up.  "I just let you win.  Really.  Um.  Joey,
you wanna help me hold him down?"

Justin shakes his head.  "Not worth it.  He's just a freak who
doesn't wanna give away his secrets.  Fuck it."

Chris throws himself across Justin for some sympathy.

Justin catches Chris as a matter of course.  "So, you're a freak
who does what you want and acts like he doesn't need any physical
contact to survive.  How about you?" he asks, turning to the last
Lance.

"I'm fine," he says stiffly.  "Not used to people interrogating me
like I've done something wrong, that's for sure."

"Can we give the other two back and keep JC's?" Chris asks.  "He's
nicer and just as cute.  I bet we could teach him to dance."

"We're not, actually," JC points out.  "Interrogating you, I mean. 
We're asking.  You're free to ask back.  It's called exchanging
information.  It's how you learn about people."  He's completely
honest and sincere.  He means every little word.

"Why should I?  You all already seem to think you know who I am. 
This Lance guy."

"Bitterness," Chris says.  "Key sign of Lanceness.  Anyone up for
my idea?"

"So, um," JC's Lance asks.  "Who's this Lance guy, anyway?"

"We're a pop group.  Nsync?  Yeah, and Lance is the bass.  We're
famous and rich and Lance is our friend.  We want him back," Justin
says.  The strain is starting to show through.  He really, really
needs Lance.

"Huh," JC's Lance says.  "Never heard of you."

"Stone the heathen," Chris says.

Joey rolls his eyes.  "Other Lance.  What do you do?"

"Sales."

"What do you sell?" Joey asks.

"Porn."

Justin smiles slowly.  "Well, now."

Chris looks up at him from his position in Justin's lap.  "Yeah?"

"Lance.  Porn.  The *voice*."

That Lance sneers at both of them.  "Not of *me*."

"Did he just insult me?" Lance without-a-shirt asks JC.

"I don't know.  But there's nothing wrong with being comfortable
with your body.  If he did, he's probably just feeling insecure
because you're him and you're over here partially undressed."

"It's not an insult," the other Lance explains condescendingly. 
"It's just business.  You can't make money off pictures of one
person.  And it's not just pictures.  It's streaming video, it's
phone sex, it's the whole works."

Joey shrugs.  "Phone sex."

"Again, not me.  I have other stuff to do.  Besides, why are you
assuming it's men people pay to hear?  The market is mostly male
and they want slutty women."

JC frowns.  "I think Lance is starting to fade, here, guys."  The
Lance in his arms is drooping, eyes fluttering.

"M'name's not Lance.  's Jamie."

Chris rolls his eyes.  "Of course it is.  I vote that we check them
for flame tattoos."

"Oh," Jamie says.  "I got one of those.  He pulls his foot up onto
the couch and pulls his sock down over his ankle.  "See?  High
school graduation thing.  Whole football team."

"Football?" Joey says, voice amused.

"Yep!" Jamie says proudly.

Chris frowns.  "No surgery scar, but has tattoo.  My brain hurts
here."

JC smiles softly and whispers, "Did you sleep with them?"

Jamie blushes.

JC giggles.  "I slept with mine, too."

"I'll bet," Chris mutters.  "I vote we kidnap all of them and take
them to our next stop.  The two greedy guts will take a cash
payout, and for the other one we can just offer JC."

JC stands up and pulls Jamie with him.  "We're gonna go take a
nap."

Jamie goes with him without any protest at all.

Chris rolls his eyes.  "My point exactly."

Joey nods.  "Ask the dangerous one which of us he wants to hang out
with."

"Him," the dangerous one says, nodding toward Justin.  "Just keep
the little one away from me."

Chris splutters indignantly.

"Unless you wanted a rematch?"

Chris shuts up.

Justin laughs and hugs Chris.  "It'll be okay, dude.  You can have
the quiet one.  You and Joey, so you don't drive him nuts."

The 'quiet one' edges away from Joey.

"Hmph," Chris says.

"What do I get out of this?" the dangerous one asks.

"We let you choose, fucknut," Justin says.

"Money," Chris says.  "More on top of whatever Lance is paying you,
unless you're Lance, and then we kill you and hide the body."

The dangerous one looks between them and shrugs.  "Fine."

"I'm not giving him money," Justin says.

"You said you'd let him choose," Chris reminds Justin.  "Wanna bet
he chooses money?"

"I meant choose who to hang out with.  He chose me.  Deal."

Chris rolls his eyes.  "Okay.  One extra person per bus.  Not too
bad.  Assuming Lonnie lets us off this one."

"There are two extra people on this bus," Justin points out. 
"Unless you're gonna go over and say on the other bus."

"Don't have a choice, do I?  You wanna keep him," Chris nods toward
the dangerous guy, "away from me, which puts you and him on one bus
and me and Joey and the other guy on the other.  And which makes
more sense?  Two plus two, or two plus three?"

Justin flips him off.

"So I see you bow to my superior logic," Chris says smugly.

Justin flips him off again.

"Wow.  I'm impressed by the depth of your argument."

The dangerous one looks at Justin.  "Need any help there?"

Joey shakes his head.  "Okay.  No killing Chris.  We need him. 
Quiet Lance, Chris, let's move."

Justin shakes his head.  "Nah, he's my best friend."

The dangerous one rolls his eyes.

Chris pulls his phone out of his pocket and makes the arrangements
with Lonnie to move.  It's a long argument, but eventually Lonnie
gives in, although he has all of them supervised carefully to make
sure no new NSYNC members show up and that all current presumed
members of NSYNC continue to be present.

Justin watches them go.  "That should be an interesting trip."

The dangerous one snorts.  "So.  What's there to do around here?"

"Games and movies over there," Justin gestures.  "Bunks back that
way.  You'll have the lower one on the left.  Back lounge has the
kitchenette.  Help yourself."  He stands and stretches.  "I need a
shower."

The dangerous one shrugs, goes for the kitchenette, then for the
movies.

Justin showers and comes out of the bathroom in a towel.  "You got
a name?" he asks.

The guy looks up from the movies and bares his teeth.  "Yeah. 
James."

"Good deal.  James.  Huh.  Makes me think of Lance's dad."  Justin
drops the towel and pulls on sleep pants.  "So, James.  Why stay
here?"

James shrugs and smiles again, the same bared teeth grin.  "Heard
something about money.  Also heard something about you all being
rich and famous.  Why shouldn't I stay?"

"Because I'm not going to pay you anything."

"Shorty will."

"No, he won't.  I won't let him.  Unless you actually do something
deserving of the money *we* earned, that is."

James shrugs.  "Fine then.  I'm gone."  He gets up.

"Going where?" Justin asks.  The bus is already moving.  "Gonna get
smashed if you jump off."

"I'll ask the driver real nicely to let me off.  I'm thinking he
will, since I don't think you really want a lawsuit or police
involved."

"Why?  We'd just tell them you're hopped up on something."  Justin
shrugs.  "Sit down and deal.  You don't wanna be here?  Big fuckin'
deal.  Suck it up.  We'll figure out how to send you back."

The guy's eyes narrow.  He stomps up to the front.

The driver tells him, very politely, that he's been told not to let
anyone off -- or on -- the bus, without specific instructions from
their security.

Justin waits.

A minute later there's shouting from the front of the bus, and the
bus swerves wildly to the side of the road.  Someone jumps out and
hits the ground rolling and takes off running.

Justin calls Lonnie.  Twenty minutes later, Sexual Chocolate
delivers James.  In handcuffs.  "Probably should hook him to
something, Lonnie."

James says nothing at all after that.  Just glowers.

Justin waits until they're done securing Lance to the couch.  "Lay
down, get comfortable."

He does.

Justin takes his arms, which are still handcuffed, and pulls them
over his head.  A moment later they're fastened to a metal rod,
just like his feet.  "Feel okay?  Doesn't hurt, does it?"

James says nothing.

"Okay.  Yell if you need to move."  Justin cocks his head.  "If I
lay down with you, are you gonna bite me?"

James bares his teeth.

Justin nods.  He lays down, putting a pillow between their faces,
careful not to smother James.  "If this freaks you out, you better
say something now.  Otherwise, dude."

James can't move.  He doesn't say anything.

Justin shrugs and switches off the lights.  "Remember to wake me if
you need something."  He cuddles in close.

James lies utterly still until he falls asleep.

****

Jamie smells like Lance.  JC knows how Lance smells.  JC also knows
how Lance feels against his hard on.  It's pretty much how Jamie
feels.

"Mmm," Jamie says, waking up and rubbing against the body in bed
with him.

JC smiles happily and rubs back.  "Pretty boy."

That wakes him right up.  He opens his eyes, and flinches.  "Ow. 
Fuck."  He's got a headache, the sun tells him, and this isn't his
bedroom.  "Where am I?  Who're you?"  He's got his eyes squeezed
close now, so it's not like he can tell.

"I'm JC.  You're on the bus."  JC is used to being confused when he
wakes up.  It's just natural.

"Bus..."  He opens one eye cautiously, then groans.  "Tell me there
really aren't two more of me out there somewhere."

"Yep, there are.  But I like you best."

"Well, that's something."  He closes his eye, then bolts upright. 
"Shit!  Work!  I'm supposed to be at work!"  He groans in pain as
that provokes his headache more.

JC pulls him back down.  "You can't work, work doesn't exist here. 
You're Lance Bass here.  Now, shh."

"Tell my boss that," Jamie mutters, but curls into JC willingly.

JC kisses Jamie's forehead.  "I'll write you a note."

"I should call.  Tell them I'm sick."

"You can try.  I bet they don't know who you are, though."

"I *work* there.  Of course, they know me."

JC digs through the pocket on the back of his bunk until he finds
his cell.  "Here."

"Thanks."  Jamie smiles at JC and takes it.  He turns it on and
dials.  Gets the office recording and sighs in relief.  It's so
much easier lying to a recording.  "Hey, this is Jamie.  I don't
feel so well.  I'm not going to be in today.  Thanks."

JC shrugs.

Jamie turns the phone off and hands it back to JC.  "Thanks, you're
a lifesaver."

JC shoves the phone back.  "Hi. It's morning."  He curls up against
Jamie again.

"Hi."

"Mornings are bad," JC explains.  "You should never get up until
it's not morning if you can help it.  Unless there's breakfast or
sex."

"Oh, yeah," Jamie agrees whole-heartedly.  "Except, if there's sex,
then you shouldn't get up either.  You should definitely stay in
bed then."

"But be awake," JC says.

"Being awake is bad, too?"

"Having sex when you're not awake is bad."

Jamie grins.  "I kinda like it.  As long as there's sex."

JC grins back.  "Is there?  This morning, I mean?"

"Well, we're both awake already."

JC smiles hugely.  "Yes."

****

Joey looks at Lance, all sleepy and quiet.  Then he goes and wakes
up Chris.  "Chris.  Lance is sleeping.  He snores like Lance."

"I've been thinking," Chris says, scratching the itchy spots, "that
this is definitely an organized plot of some kind on the Bassman's
part.  Lance impersonators, I can see.  But three of them?  All
successfully navigating the throngs and contacting the inner circle
directly?  Nuh-uh.  This smacks of a well thought out plan.  Now,
I'm thinking, you're Lance's best friend.  You tell me why he might
want to do something like this to us."

"The Nick thing?"

"What Nick thing?  Did Carter break Lance's wittle heart?"

"No, with the picture."

"What pict-- oh.  *That* picture.  That was nothing."

"Maybe."

"It wasn't nothing?"

"Probably not."

"So what you're saying is that human sacrifice, namely mine, might
placate the angry Bass?"

"My head hurts."

Chris glares at him.  "I'm trying to sort this out.  You could be
more helpful."

Joey shakes his head.  "No, I can't."  He sprawls over Chris. 
"This Lance does porn.  And my head hurts."

"Unless that's all a lie."  Chris starts rubbing Joey's neck.  "You
angling to get some of the patented Kirkpatrick headache cure?"

"Uh huh."

"Okay," Chris says, "but you remember what you said last time."

"Nope."

Chris cackles and hops out of bed.  "Good!"

Joey moans pitifully.

Chris giggles and starts looking for the hot sauce.

The quiet Lance is sitting at the table.

Chris eyes him suspiciously.  "Are you a morning person?"

"Is there a right answer to this question?"

"Yes."

"Then pretend I said the right thing."

Chris gives him another suspicious look.  "Assuming for the sake of
argument that you *are* the real Lance Bass, Joey says that this is
probably all about the Nick Carter thing.  If it is, you know you
just have to boohoo your pretty little eyes out and everyone'll
cave and shish kebab me for you."

Lance -- if he *is* Lance -- turns his head away from Chris and
looks back out the window, sipping on his mug.

Chris grumbles about uncooperative fake blonds and makes his
patented hangover cure -- guaranteed to cure you or kill you -- and
goes back to the bunks.

He hands Joey the concoction.  "I dunno who he is, but he's an
asshole."

Joey drinks.  "You're an asshole."

"I know.  We can spot our own kind."

Joey lays back.  "Do *not* let me drink before running to the
busses ever again."

"Yes, dear.  Like I get a choice in it."

"You do from now on."

"I do?"

"Yes."

"Is this the Joey Fatone equivalent of declaring true love? 
Because if you must know, I'm saving myself for someone else."

"Who?  Real Lance?"

"That's a nasty, evil rumor."

"Real Lance likes you back."

"He does not.  He's doing this, isn't he?  The only one of them who
isn't pissed is the drunk Lance, and JC's already probably sexed
him up once last night and is going back for seconds this morning."

"Who says Lance isn't pissed at you?  Your mom gets pissed at you,
but she still loves you."

"He doesn't like me.  He hates me."  Chris lets out his breath in
a sigh and starts getting dressed.

Joey hugs Chris suddenly.  "I love you, man."

"Masher," Chris says, but hugs him back.

Joey smiles.  "Let's go tease him."

Chris raises his eyebrows.  "Contrary to popular belief, I am *not*
a glutton for punishment, and I'm not looking to get myself
killed."

"I'll protect you," Joey promises.

"Hmph," Chris says, to indicate his opinion of Joey's word, but
goes along with him.

"So, Lance.  How'd you end up in the porn industry?" Joey asks as
he starts assembling a breakfast.

"Gave up on trying to sell a unique product and decided to sell
what everyone wants."

"So, d'you have your own store or what?"

"Not... exactly."

"So, what exactly?"

"I do most of my business online.  So store isn't the right word."

"Oh.  What d'you sell?"

"Whatever the market wants."

"At least you don't have to clean those little rooms in the back,"
Joey says approvingly.

Lance makes a face at him.

Joey laughs and puts an omelette in front of him.

"He's fastidious," Chris whispers to Joey.  "Fastidious, a morning
person *and* an asshole.  What more proof do you need?"

Lance doesn't bother pretending not to stare at them.

Joey grins.  "Watch and learn, grasshopper."  He feeds Chris, too.

Chris takes the plate and sits down, far away enough from Joey and
Lance that none of the pending violence which is obviously about to
occur will spill over onto him.

Joey sits next to Chris.

Chris sticks his tongue out at Joey and then remembers he's
supposed to be pretending he doesn't know either of them.

Joey keeps quiet and eats.

Eventually Chris can't take it anymore and elbows Joey.  "Hello,"
he hisses.  "Evil plan here."

Lance glances at Chris, but doesn't say anything.

Chris sticks his tongue out at Lance.

Joey waits until Lance has finished his food.  "This one's not a
vegetarian, like ours."

"I told you, I'm not him," Lance says.

Chris squints.  "Since when is ours a vegetarian?"

"Dumbass.  Nearly a year now."

"Huh.  That explains the steak incident."

There's the merest hint of a smirk on Lance's face.

Joey yawns.  "This one won't let me cuddle.  Chris, come cuddle
with me."

Lance looks down.

Chris recoils.  "And what part of you making me breakfast entitles
you to cuddle, huh?  I'm trying to stay *out* of the range of fire,
y'know."

"Why?  If it's real Lance, he doesn't deserve cuddles.  If it's
not, he doesn't *want* cuddles."

"I don't get your strange Italian logic.  You have to at least
offer me sugar before you woo me."

Joey shrugs and gives Chris Pixy Stix.

Chris shrugs and climbs into Joey's lap.

Lance gets up and goes back, toward the bathroom.

"Moody, uncommunicative bastard who hates my guts.  Definitely
Lance."

"He's probably jealous," Joey says.

"Uh huh," Chris agrees in sarcastic tones.  "Of lil ol me."

"No, jealous of me, over you."

Chris rolls his eyes.  "That's what I meant.  And it's still
stupid.  A day doesn't go by but that I'm cozying up with one of
you.  This is not exactly new or suspicious behavior."

"Yeah, but this is a different acting Lance."

Chris snorts.  "Oh, and that makes even more sense.  This is a
Lance impersonator who's not only gay, but has the hots for me."

"Maybe."

Chris sighs.  "Oh, what the hell.  I suppose it makes as much sense
as any of this."  He rests his head against Joey's shoulder.

Behind them, just out of their line of sight, Lance is standing
there.

Joey rubs the back of Chris's neck.  "Don't worry, babe.  One of
them is bound to love you back.  I wonder how Jup's doing with the
evil one."

"Probably plotting together how to kill me.  Everyone's plotting
against me."

"Not Jayce and Jamie."

"Well, no, but that's only because they've got each other's dicks
so far up each other's mouths that they probably don't even know
which state they're in.  By the way, which state are we in?"

"Don't know.  Don't care."

"Good point."  Chris yawns and snuggles down in Joey's lap. 
"Should've fallen for you.  Woulda been a helluva lot easier, and
I bet you'd even have loved me back."

"Could be," Joey says.  He stands and carries Chris toward the
bunks.  He winks as he passes Lance.  "But Lance is better for
you."

Chris sighs and lets himself fall to sleep, comfortable with Joey. 
Joey'll keep him safe.

Joey thinks Chris is smart.  He sleeps too.

Lance takes a look at them and goes to the front of the bus.

Joey yells, "Dude!  Come sleep!"

There's a padding of feet.  "Don't you think it's tacky to try to
get me to sleep with you when you already have him?  Not to mention
that I'm getting tired of the come-ons."

"Dude.  Sleep.  With touching for comfort?  Hello?  This is a nice
big bed.  Climb in."

"No, thank you," Lance says, but he glances at Chris, who's wrapped
around Joey.

Joey smiles a little.  "Sleep on his side."

Lance's gaze flicks up quickly.  He hesitates, then gets in.  "Only
because I think you'd take advantage of me if I was on your side."

"Yeah, right, Bass.  Like I covet your ass."

There's no response.

Joey shakes his head and grins.  Kids these days.

****

Johnny would normally call Lance.  At the moment, there's a problem
with calling Lance, since the question of the day is 'Which
Lance?'.  Frankly, if he didn't get paid enough to put up with this
shit and if he didn't like them a whole helluva lot, they could
find someone else.

But, circumstances being what they are, he calls Justin.

"What?" Justin growls, barely awake.

"Okay, here's the deal.  We can't reschedule.  Or, yeah, we could,
but I don't see the point.  If you can't get one of them to confess
to being the real Lance, or if we can't find him somewhere else, we
need to get one of them onstage.  Forget the dancing -- we'll go
with the broken limb angle.  Get him to hold a mike in front of his
lips and we'll pipe in Lance's part.  Tell them -- Lance -- that
that's what we're going to do."

"Okay."  Justin shifts.  "Will do."

"How's the situation?  I got word that one of them tried to make a
break for it."

"That's James.  He's sort of a dumbass.  A dangerous one.  But I
think he understands now."  Justin's voice is hard.

"Is this something I don't want to know, but probably should?"

"Huh?  Oh, I had him handcuffed and bound to the couch and now I'm
sleeping on him."

There's a long pause.  Johnny closes his eyes and counts to ten. 
It doesn't help.  "Great.  Try to keep from doing anything else we
could get sued for, all right?"

"No."

"Justin..."

"No."

Johnny sighs.  "All right."  He starts mentally calculating the
size of the payoff check for this one.

"No one would believe him anyway.  And you're not paying him.  No
one is paying him shit unless he earns it."

"Whatever you say," Johnny says, not meaning a word of it.

Justin yawns.  "Dude.  I'll cancel my contract.  Too early to be
awake.  Bye."  He hits end.

Cold green eyes stare at him.

Justin blinks.  "Morning.  You need to piss?"

Eye roll.

"Okay.  Guess not."

"Yes, you fucking bastard, I do," comes the fierce, but grudging
answer.  There's an unspoken 'dumbshit' in there somewhere as well.

Justin grunts and gets up, untying captive James.  "Okay."  He
opens the door and ushers the other man in.  "Piss.  And then open
the door.  I'll get you a toothbrush."

He does as told.  The anger is virtually crackling in the air
around him.

Justin waits until the door opens to start talking.  "Okay, here's
the deal.  I don't want to treat you like this.  I totally don't. 
But for the time being, we need you to stay with us.  You will be
compensated for missing work, if you had work.  Other than that...
tell us what you want, we'll try to get it.  Oh, and if you tell me
which Lance is real?  Then you get money."

The guy looks at him.  The 'you dumbshit' look is still on his
face.  "If I am your guy, I'm not gonna tell you.  And if I'm not,
what makes you think I know?"

"Why would you do this unless someone paid you to?"

Another eyeroll.  "Same answer."

Justin shrugs.  "Whatever.  Are you gonna stay here?"

He looks eloquently at the cuffs.  "Do I have a choice?"

"Yes, I'll take them off."

He huffs.  "Fine.  Whatever."

"No.  Promise me you won't try to get away from us again."

He shakes his head.  "Nothing in it for me.  No way."

"I told you I'd see you paid."

"If I told you something.  If I'm missing work."

"No, I'll pay you *as if* you were missing work."

Dangerous Lance considers Justin for a few seconds.  "Done."

"Good."  Justin unlocks James's cuffs.  "I'm glad.  You wanna take
a shower?"  He hands over a fresh towel and a new toothbrush.

"If it gets me away from you, yeah."  James bares his teeth at
Justin and takes the towel and the toothbrush.

Justin laughs and closes the door.

****

He wakes up with Chris curled around him, arm thrown across him and
nose in his neck.

Quiet Lance heaves a soundless sigh and relaxes again.

Chris nuzzles and murmurs comforting sounds into the skin against
his nose.

It feels good having the other man pressed up against him.  Not at
all like it did when Joey'd pulled him down into his lap.  Then
he'd just wanted to get away.  Now.  Now, he just wants to stay.

Chris waits several minutes.  The person against him isn't going
back to sleep.  "Shh, sleep, baby," he orders.  It worked with the
girls.  Sometimes.

Lance had almost been about to when he hears the 'baby'.  He
freezes, and then slowly starts making his way out of the bed, so
as not to wake up the half-asleep person who thinks he's someone
he's not.

Chris's eyes slit open.  "Lance, go to sleep."

"I'm not..." he stutters.

"Not what?"

He firms his tone.  "Sleepy.  Excuse me."  He gets out of the bed.

Chris sighs and follows him.

He goes forward to the kitchenette area.  He realizes he's got
company while he's going through the fridge.  "You need something?"

"No."  Chris sits at the table and watches Lance sleepily.

Lance settles on a bagel and a bottle of water.  He stands back up
and sees Chris looking at him.  "What?"

"Nothin'.  You okay?"

"Fine."  He sits down at the table.

"You sure?"

"No."

"Anything I can do?"

Lance gives him an arched eyebrow look.  "I have no idea."

"Wanna come back to bed with me?"

"With you and the other guy, you mean.  No, thanks.  I'm not into
threesomes."

"To sleep?"

"Not tired."

"No?  You look tired."

Lance sighs.  "Not the sleep kind of tired."

"Then what?"

"Look, you don't care and it doesn't matter.  You go back to bed
and get some more sleep."  Lance's mouth twists.  "I'm sure I'll
still be here for you to ask later."

"But I care, dumbass.  You're Lance.  Of course I care."

"*A* Lance," Lance corrects.

"Doesn't matter.  You're Lance."

"Sorry.  Not good enough."  Lance gets up and puts the untouched
food back in the mini-fridge and heads away.  It's only five feet,
but it's the emotional distance he's looking for.

"I'm in love with the Lance that was here," Chris says.

"Good for you."  Lance crosses his arms over his chest and looks
out the window.  "You must miss him."

"He didn't love me.  I kinda like you, actually.  Because I know
*I* didn't force you to become something you don't want to be."

Lance looks over at him.  "I have no idea what you're talking
about."

"That's okay.  But it means that I kinda like you, Bass.  I kinda
wanna get to know you."

"Stop calling me that.  And why in the world would you want to do
that?"  He gives Chris a suspicious look.  "I haven't even really
talked to you.  The only thing I've done -- besides wake up with
you on me -- is bitch about the situation.  Are you mental or
something?"

"Dude.  I asked you what your name was."  And Chris nods, "Plus, I
am kinda mental."

He sighs heavily.  "Look, I'm flattered that you seem to like my
looks.  Obviously, my personality can't be the attraction here. 
But I'm not willing to play this game because you want to fuck me."

"Don't wanna fuck you."

"Then what the hell do you want?"

"Cuddles."

"Go cuddle the other guy.  He seems pretty touchy-feely, what with
the groping yesterday."

"He was just trying to hold you, dude.  Lance is good about that. 
The one we know."

"Maybe you should get yours back then.  He'd probably be up for the
cuddling."

"Dunno where he is."

Lance barks out a hoarse laugh.  "Any substitute will do, huh?"

"No.  I like you.  Already said that."

"Thanks.  I think."

"So, what d'you wanna be called?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes."

He looks away from Chris' too-earnest eyes.  "I don't know why
you're doing this.  Call me Jimmy."

"Jimmy.  Okay."

Jimmy nods.

Chris smiles shyly.  "Nice to meet you."

"Charmed, I'm sure," Jimmy drawls.

Chris grins and then laughs outright.

"What?"

"I *like* you!  You're cool."

"And you're nuts."

"Yes, I am."

"Go cuddle your friend in the back."

"Joey's totally comatose.  He doesn't cuddle back when he's like
that."

"Sorry.  No."

"What?"

"I'm not going to cuddle you.  Sorry."

"You already said that."

"Good.  Are you going to go away now?"

"Do you want me to?" Chris asks, frowning.  That's probably been
pretty obvious, and he just missed it.

Jimmy looks down.  It's too hard to look at Chris.  "That's what
I've been trying to say, yes."  It comes out more tentative than he
meant it to.  It was supposed to sound sarcastic.  He readies a
follow-up that'll sound right.

"Oh.  Sorry.  Um.  Clean towels in that basket, new toothbrushes
are probably under the sink.  Help yourself to whatever.  That
laptop is Lance's.  Bye."  Chris stands up and pads to the back of
the bus.

Jimmy draws his knees up to his chest, drops his head to his knees
and wraps his arms around himself.  This isn't going well.

****

Jimmy drops the envelope on the table in front of Chris and Joey.
Eventually, they'd gotten up. He'd eaten while they were still dead
to the world.

The plain white standard envelope says 'To JC, Joey and Justin' on
it. The envelope isn't sealed.

"Found this with the movies. Fell out when I was looking through
them."

Chris recognizes Lance's handwriting. And the letter isn't to him
at all. So he leaves, locking himself in the bathroom.

Joey sighs and pulls out the sheet of paper. He reads the letter
and snorts, tossing it to Jimmy.

Jimmy picks it up. It reads:

'Guys --

I'm sorry it came to this, but I'm not at all sorry for doing this
to you. Chris' little ploy with the picture of me labeled with
Nick's name made it clear to me that none of you really sees me
when you look at me. And, yes, I'm more than a little angry about
this.

Prove you know who I am, and this is over. I don't think you will.
If you don't figure it out by the next stop, well. Let's just say
it wouldn't surprise me.

Lance.'


Jimmy looks up. "So?"

Joey shakes his head. "Man. We know. It was a joke, and... well.
You know how Chris is when he likes someone. All pulling their hair
and shit." He sighs. "But whatever. Just... trust. It's called
trust."

"Trust? I don't get it."

"I can tell." Joey stands up. "I'm gonna get dressed."

Jimmy retreats back to the couch, leaving the letter on the table.

Chris takes a shower. He really, really misses Lance. Like -- it's
a physical pain. He doesn't know how to treat this person who is
and isn't Lance. Because he does Love Lance. With a capital "L" and
everything. And Lance? Lance is gone. On purpose. Of his own free
will.

But even Chris can't stay in the bathroom forever. Eventually he
comes out, scrubbed as fresh as he can get. He looks at Lance, just
watches for a long moment. This man doesn't sound like Lance when
he speaks. Doesn't say the same things or feel the same way to be
around. But he breathes like Lance.

"Are you going to read the letter and say strange things, too?"
Jimmy asks him.

"It wasn't addressed to me," Chris says, smiling lopsidedly.

"Joey told me to read it. Then he said it was about trust. And when
I said I didn't get it, he said that no, I wouldn't. Got any idea
what he's talking about?"

"No. But probably has something to do with Lance leaving us," Chris
says, and he can't keep the pain and bewilderment from his voice.
He clears his throat. "Sorry."

"From the letter, it sounds like he was pissed."

"Yeah. That's my fault. It's usually my fault." Chris shrugs. "I'm
a fuckup, it's what I do. And sing high, I do that, too."

"So, um. Why didn't you just say you were sorry then if he was so
pissed?"

"He didn't tell me he was pissed." Chris looks out the window.
"Besides, then he'd know I cared."

Jimmy raises his eyebrows. "Sounds like you care about everyone who
looks like him."

"Or maybe not. The picture thing? That was only half a joke. A
million years and two continents ago, Lance said he'd never be hot,
never look anything like Nick Carter."

"So it was supposed to be a compliment?"

"Backhanded. Like everything about me. Hey, you don't wanna hear
this, if you're not Lance. If you are, you're still insulted by the
fact that I'm a fucknut. Sorry." Chris turns to go after clean
clothes. He pauses in the doorway. "I really am sorry."

Jimmy looks away. "Me too."

"Not your fault, La-Jimmy."

He'd been about to cave under the weight of guilt and shame the
other two are heaping on him, but that firms his chin. Chris can't
keep straight who he is. "Whatever."

"I love you, Lance," Chris says suddenly. He's not looking at the
other man. "I really do." He turns to look back. "Where ever you
are."

Jimmy's mouth twists. Earlier, Chris'd be cuddling up to him. Now
Chris is saying he loves Lance. He hugs his knees to his chest.
"Good to know I make an acceptable substitute. I'm not really
flattered though. Go cuddle the other guy."

"Fuck you, Lance."

He raises his chin. "What're you trying to say?"

"I fucking love you. And I really hope you're Lance, cause if
you're not I just totally fucked some poor guy named Jimmy over by
being a mercurial bitch."

He looks down again. When he looks back up, his chin's still just
as determined, but his mouth is trembling. "Look. I give, okay. I
can't take the guilt anymore. I'll call Johnny and tell him
everything's okay. Just. Stop it."

Chris is shaking. "I fucking love you. I love you, and I was so
fucking scared that you'd been shoved to some alternate dimension
or something and I'd never see you again. And you left me -- us --
me on purpose. I'm sorry, okay? I'll never pick on you again."

He can't meet Chris' eyes. But Chris falling apart is something he
can't deal with either. He reaches out to Chris. "It's not your
fault. Joey's right. I should've trusted you enough to tell you I
was pissed off. Maybe you even would've told me the truth. Maybe
this was all just the stupidest idea I've ever had." Chris doesn't
reach back. Lance buries his head in his hands. "I wanna throw
myself under the bus."

Chris is there in an instant. "Don't you dare. Fuck that. You got
JC a pretty little toy, and Justin gets to feel all brave and shit.
Joey saw through you. And, hey, I had to face my feelings. That's
supposed to be a good thing."

"No," Lance says wearily. "I won't. Got a show coming up. Gotta be
there for that, right? Won't make up for this."

"Lance, if you wanna skip the show, I'll call and cancel the fucker
myself."

"No, no. It's fine. Anyway, I wouldn't want to make things any
worse for you guys than I already have."

Chris reaches out and lifts Lance's face. "You breathe the same."

Lance gives him a wan smile. "You came on to both versions of me."

"I was trying to figure out if you were you. And, y'know, quiet you
has charms."

"Quiet, bitter, mean me."

"Ah, but *porn*."

Lance gives him a crooked smile.  "Want me to hook you up?"

"No.  I want to know what you'd like from me here."

"I can't decide.  What I deserve or something else."  He studies
his hands.

"Fuck what you deserve.  What do you want?"

"Forgiveness.  You."

"I forgive you.  And you can have me for as long as you can stand
me."

Lance looks up at Chris.  He doesn't ask again, just looks at him. 
He should reach out again.  Should ask explicitly, but all he can
manage is the look, because it's just too hard to beg when he feels
this broken.  And it's worse because he did the breaking himself.

Chris sits next to Lance and tugs until the younger man lays his
head in Chris's lap.  Chris combs his hair softly.  "It's okay."

It's such a relief having Chris holding him and touching him. 
Lance wraps his arms around Chris and cries.

Joey smiles and winks at Chris from the doorway.  Then he goes to
call Johnny and the other guys.

There's not that many tears.  But the ones that do come are
heartfelt.  He's a mass of nerves and tension and guilt and
misplaced anger.

"Shh, now, baby.  Shh."

Eventually Lance quiets, but he doesn't lift his face from where
it's buried against Chris.

Chris hums quietly for a while before asking, "Where'd you find
them?"

Lance's laugh is half-hiccup.  "Only one of them is mine."

"What?"

"JC's Lance?  I've never seen that guy before in my life."

"What?  No way!"

"Way."  The conversation is almost comfortable.  Lance shifts so he
can see Chris' face.  "I hired the other one.  Had him change his
appearance some, paid him to get the tattoo, got him into the
venue, that kind of thing.  But the guy without a shirt?  No idea
where he came from."

Chris groans.  "I hope he's not gonna run to the tabloids.  I'm
certain C's sexed him up by now."

"Yeah, well, he's probably happy now.  He seemed happy enough
earlier."  Lance chuffs.  "JC seemed happy, too.  I don't want to
know any more than I have to about that and whatever he may have
been thinking about me."

"He was thinking 'Ooh, pretty' and 'Nice warm boy'."

"Yeah, but how long has he been thinking, 'Lance pretty?'"

"Doesn't matter.  He's not getting Lance.  He's gotta keep Jamie."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Lance lets out a sigh, relieved.  "Okay."

"If only because there's no confidentiality agreement," Chris says
with a straight face.  "Guess C'll just have to bribe him with
sex."

Lance snorts.  "I'm not really worried about that one.  And the
other guy already signed one, obviously."

"Um.  See, there's a thing.  Justin handcuffed him and tied him to
the couch."

Two reactions fight in Lance's mind.  'Justin did *what*?' and
'Thinking it was *me*?'  "Lovely."

"He jumped off the bus and tried to run away.  Justin didn't know
what else to do."

"Yes, because tying him up was obviously the sensible response."

Chris shrugs.

Lance sighs.  "The guy's the kind who'll do anything for money.  If
Justin'd offered him enough, he'd probably have blown him.  He's
actually a stripper.  Y'know, like for birthday cards and stuff. 
That's how I came across him in the first place."

Chris laughs.  "Justin refused to pay him any extra money unless he
earned it.  I think the deal is, Justin pays him as if he were
missing work.  Extra for helping find you."

Lance smiles.  "Just as well then there was an extra me.  He might
have gone for the deal otherwise."

"Yeah, and how weird is that!"

Lance shrugs.  "How weird is it that none of you said, 'stop being
stupid, Lance' right at the beginning?"

"We honestly thought none of you were real."

"Oh."

"We thought our Lance was lost, if you'll recall."

"I wouldn't have let you guys down about the show."

"Lost unwillingly," Chris clarifies.

Lance looks away.  "Sorry," he says.  More reasons why he's a shit.

Chris leans over and kisses Lance.

"Chris?"

"Why..." he bites his lip against all the questions in his head. 
But Chris is just looking at him, waiting patiently, which is
something all by itself.  Chris isn't patient.  "Why now?  Why not
before?  Why aren't you mad at me instead?"

"Because I lost you.  Figured out you weren't responding to the
third grade version of courting.  Trying for more traditional."

Lance stares at Chris' shirt, it being easier to face down.  "Yeah,
well, I figured it was more of the same.  Same song, different
city.  'Who's Lance?'.  'We have a Lance in the group?'.  That kind
of stuff."

Chris rolls his eyes.  "Justin's nearly panicked to death.  His
whole sense of security rests on you.  Joey's daughter is your
goddaughter.  You bring JC out of his kitten phases.  I love you. 
And there's not one of us who doesn't have you in our headphones."

"That kinda hurt the most," Lance says.  "Joey laughing at the
picture.  I don't think I would've done anything about it, except
for that.  That made it something more than just one of you ragging
on me.  Made me angry."

Joey joins the conversation.  "I thought it was funny that for Nick
Carter to look good in a photo, it'd have to be a picture of you."

Lance startles.  He didn't know Joey was listening.  "Yeah," he
says, not looking up.  "That's a good reason to laugh.  I'm just a
dumbshit asshole.  Never mind me."

"Lance, you dork."  Joey kneels down.  "You're my best fucking
friend.  You're not dumb at all.  I know from dumb."

Lance rolls toward him.  He wants to avoid this confrontation, but
it's inevitable and he owes all of them.  "You were right.  I
didn't get it at first when you said it, but you were right.  I
didn't trust any of you enough to get mad at you when it happened
or to say anything about it.  I'm sorry."

"Don't stress over it.  We all deserved to get a lesson in how much
we need you.  And so did you."

"I know I didn't expect any of you to react like this."  His
fingers are running over Chris' knee.  "I'm still not sure I
believe that Justin is freaking out though."

"I don't know if he believes it either."

Lance smiles a little.  "Okay, that sounds more like him."

Chris laughs.

Chris laughs.

"I should call him, I guess.  Let him and JC know.  Johnny, too,"
Lance says.

"Done," Joey says.

"Oh.  How upset is everyone?"

"I think everything's gonna be okay."  Joey doesn't mention that
Justin was nearly crying or that Johnny yelled about lawsuits. 
It's not important.

Lance nods.  He doesn't quite believe it, but he wants to.  He's
too stressed right now to handle it if they are upset.

Chris taps Lance's shoulder.  When Lance looks at him, he gets
kissed.

Lance curls up against Chris.  Chris isn't usually the comforting
type.  That's Joey.  Joey's stability has only increased since
Briahna came along, and normally, he's the one Lance would go to. 
But at the moment, Lance feels like the only safe place is with
Chris.

Chris sighs and stretches.  "Okay.  We've got hours til our venue. 
Lance and I are going to bed."

Lance sits up.  "We are?"

"Yes."

Joey is smiling hugely, Lance notes.  He stands up and waits for
Chris.  "Okay."

Chris stands and guides Lance to the bed with a firm hand on his
back.

"You've, uh, gone to a lot of trouble getting me here."

"Sorta, yes."

Lance sits down.  "Right now, I kinda want to hide."

Chris tugs back the covers.  "There ya go.  Hide."

"With you."

"I'm gonna hide with you."

Lance waits for Chris to get in.  "What are you hiding from?"

"Dunno."

"Oh."  He watches Chris undressing, taking off his shirt.  He isn't
sure if he should be doing the same.

Chris slides into the bed in his boxers.

Lance follows suit.  It's hard baring himself, but compared to how
stripped he feels emotionally, it's nothing.  He gets in and lies
down.

Chris pulls Lance against him.  "Very nice, babe."

With Chris' skin against his, it's more like sex, and Lance doesn't
know if that's what Chris wants or not.  He accepts the closeness
though.

"Okay.   Now.  Tell me what's going on in that head of yours?"

"You sure you want to know?"

"Yes."

"I don't know what you want.  That's what's going on right now."

"I want you not to ever do this again.  So.  Wanna tell me how I
make it unnecessary?"

"Oh."  Lance worries his lip with his teeth.  "I could just tell
you I know better now, but I guess you want more than that."

"More would be good," Chris agrees.

"For what it's worth, I don't think it'll happen again.  You're
right.  Joey's right, too.  That was a shitty way to get attention. 
And I was wrong.  It just hurt bad.  I recognized your handwriting. 
It was worse because it was you.  There's nothing quite like
knowing your crush despises you.  Unless it's finding out that you
best friend agrees with your crush."

Chris grins.  "You crush me?"

"Yeah.  I thought you'd figured that out by now."

"Um.  I'm a dumbass, remember?"

"You know now, then."

"Just stay here a second, okay?" Chris says.  He climbs out of bed
and does the victory dance around the room, complete with whooping.

Lance watches him bemusedly.

Chris climbs back into bed.  "Okay."

"What was that all about?"

"Hmm?  Oh, that.  I'm just a little bit elated, is all."

"I got that," Lance says drily.

"There ya go, then."

"Was there anything else you wanted to know?"

"Everything?"

"Like what?"  Lance is more than a little nonplussed by Chris'
reaction so far.  He's happy Chris seems to like the idea that he
has a crush on him, but Chris hasn't said anything about the other
stuff.  Or if it's all one-sided.

"Like your favorite CD -- for real.  And why you won't eat orange
jello.  And can I tell my mom you crush me and I love you.  Do you
want kids?  Do you want to do another tour?  Do you hate Justin's
new hair?  Do your feet hurt?"

"Oh.  That kind of everything.  I don't know what my favorite CD
is.  Probably not any single one.  Because most CDs only have one
or two good songs.  Uh... no on orange jello because it doesn't
taste like oranges.  You're gonna tell your mom anyway and you know
it.  And my feet are fine."

"Would you please be my boyfriend?" Chris asks.

Lance is considering doing his own victory dance.  "Yes.  Please."

"Oh."  Chris grins.  "Yay."

"So, uh, you don't crush me?  You... um."  Lance shakes his head. 
"I don't wanna ask what this is.  I just want it all to be okay. 
'Cause... I don't know why, but I'm still pissed."

"I love you.  More than crushing.  Like, oh, baby, forever kinda
love."

"That sounds good.  But not a lot like the kind of thing where you
put up pictures with weird sayings and try to pull my hair or
whatever."

"Well, I had to get your attention somehow.  And then you ran away. 
And I don't like that.  So now I'll be a grown up."

"It's okay if you're not.  I just... I couldn't take it anymore. 
And maybe I need you to be a grown-up right this second, but not
always.  I like you being Chris."

Chris gently pulls Lance's hair.

Lance laughs.  "Yeah."

"See?  Still Chris."

"Good.  'Cause it's Chris I was crushing on."

"So, boyfriend, where should I take you for dinner?"

"Aren't the options Chez Joey's or the Refrigerator?"

"For our date, I mean."

"You wanna date me?"

"You're my boyfriend."

"Yes, well, I usually associate being mostly naked in bed together
as being past the dating stage."

"This is good, yes.  However, continual wooing keeps both partners
interested."

"You want to be wooed?"

"I want to woo you."

"It would've been nice back when you were putting up pictures of
me, but what I really want is..." Lance hesitates because it even
sounds stupid in his own head, "you holding me and telling me I
didn't screw up too badly and that it's going to be all right and
stuff like that."

Chris shifts, holding Lance.  "You didn't screw up too badly.  It's
going to be perfectly fine.  And I think you're really hot.  A lot
hotter than Nick Carter."

"I screwed up spectacularly and I'm lucky y'all feel like forgiving
me."

"Whatever.  We do.  I love you."

Lance's mouth twists.  "Okay.  I get the message.  I'm being stupid
and should stop feeling sorry for myself."  He doesn't, not
exactly.  It's more like feeling like a thousand kinds of shit.

"Um, no.  I just, uh.  I'm a little elated right now.  I'll be mad
at you later, okay?"

"I'd rather get it over now while I still feel like I deserve it."

Chris sighs and sits up, looking down at Lance.  "You scared the
fuck out of me.  Out of all of us.  You brought someone else to
totally throw us off and what if he's not trustworthy?  And, well,
the other one isn't yours.  But, dude.  And now everyone knows how
pretty you are and I wanted to keep you for myself!"

Lance looks properly abashed until Chris gets to the last point. 
Then his smile could light the room with its glow.  "I'm sorry."

"You should be!"  Chris tries to look angry, but ends up smiling.

Lance crawls up Chris' body, still smiling.  "But now I know you
mean it."  And this time, he kisses Chris.

****

They end up sending the busses to different locations.  There's
still one too many Lances, but it's better than three of them. 
Chris, Lance and Joey have to be driven to the hotel in an SUV.

Everyone else is already waiting when they get there.

Lance isn't going to hold Chris' hand in public, but he's so
nervous on the way in, that he feels like he might throw up.  Like
before a show he knows is going to be bad -- when one or more of
them is in a screaming bad temper and no one knows how it'll affect
their performance.

JC looks up, Jamie perched in his lap.  "Real Lance!"

"Hey, JC," Lance says.

JC grins and hugs Jamie tighter.

Justin looks up.  "You're really Lance?"

Lance winces.  "Yes."

Justin nods.  He writes James a check.  "There.  Sorry."

James snorts and folds the check away.  "I signed on knowing things
might get strange.  But I never figured on handcuffs."

"Sorry," Lance says in a small voice.

James flashes him a grin.  "For what you're paying me, it's not
like it was a hardship."

Justin tilts his head.  "You looked very good in them."

"Yeah?" James says, eyeing Justin speculatively.  "I'd rather see
you in them."

"Oh, Lord," Lance says to Chris.

Justin snorts.  "And how much you want paid for that?"

James grins at him.  "Oh, I think that'd be on the house. 
Considering as how it'd be a real pleasure."

"Ah, but how much to keep your fucking mouth shut?"

"He signed a confidentiality agreement, Justin," Lance says,
stepping in.

"But not for that."

"It was open-ended."

"Oh.  Okay.  If you're here when we get back.  Yeah."  Justin nods.

"Get back?" James asks.

"We have a show to do."

"Right."

"Yes."

Chris nods.  "I'm gonna sing bass.  It'll be fun."

Lance rolls his eyes.

Chris kisses him.

JC grins and kisses Jamie.

When Chris lets him go, Lance is smiling senselessly.  "Okay then."

Chris laughs.  "I rock."

Lance nods, because, yes.  Chris does.  Chris makes Lance want to
be real.

Joey laughs and ruffles both their hair.  "Okay, how did I end up
the only one without a hot boy?"

Comfortably tucked at Chris' side, Lance looks over at him. 
"Because you're the only one who didn't want one?"

"Not true!  I whacked off to you, dude."

Lance flinches into Chris.

Chris growls and steps in front of Lance.

Joey laughs again.

Lance has got his eyes closed, forehead resting against Chris'
shoulder and he's shaking a little.

Justin looks over at James.  "Dude.  What's your name, really?"

James laughs.  "My given name or the one I work under?"

"Given."

"Edward."  James makes a disgusted expression.  "If you have to use
that, go with Ed.  Just Ed."

"What do your friends call you?"

Chris, meanwhile, has turned to hold Lance.

When Chris wraps his arms around him, Lance sinks into him.  He
doesn't know if Joey's joking or what, but *fuck*.  That hurts a
lot, hearing that from Joey.  If Joey'd given him even the
slightest sign he wasn't completely straight, Lance would never
have started crushing on Chris to begin with.

"Dare.  Because my middle name's just as bad as my first name."  He
snorts.  "Darren.  Dunno what my parents were thinking."

"Dare works for me."  Justin grins.  "So, Dare.  Do I get a sample
before I have to go get all made up?"

Dare gives him a look, then reaches for Justin's wrist.  When
Justin lets him have it, he grabs the other one, holding them both
behind Justin's back, then bends him with that leverage.  Dare
licks Justin's exposed throat and then bites it.

Justin moans and shivers.  "Nice."

JC grins against Jamie's cheek.  "You like?" he whispers.

"If you were going to do that to me.  Yeah."

JC squeaks and makes plans, lightly pressing against Jamie's ass as
he thinks.

Jamie squirms just enough to get JC right where he wants him.

Joey rolls his eyes.  "Okay, so the thought of three of you?  That
I can whack off to.  But seeing that?  I'm straight.  I'm gonna go
find a chick with huge... lungs.  See you later."  He leaves the
room.

Chris laughs and holds Lance tighter.  "Good.  Mine."

Lance nods.  "Sorry, but... if he meant it, he should have said
something earlier.  I'm not the only one who hasn't been saying
important things."

"Of course you're not.  We all are."  Chris sighs.  "But now we
have to do a show."

"Does Joey know that?  Or is it just going to be over that fast?"

"What?"

"He said he was going to find a girl."

"Ah.  He'll either be over that fast, or arrange to meet her at the
hotel."

"Both, probably," Lance predicts.  "Let's get going."

"Good deal."

JC looks at Jamie.  "Are you gonna stay?"

"I want to," Jamie says.  "I don't know how long I can stay around
you or how long til you get tired of me, but I want to, yeah."

"Where do you live again?"

Jamie looks sad.  "A long way from here."

"Do you like your job a lot?"

Jamie shrugs.  "It's all right.  I like the people there, and it's
something I've always been good at."

"Do you wanna maybe stay with me instead?"

Jamie's mouth drops open.  "Hell, yeah."

"Oh!  Oh, good!

Jamie kisses JC.

Lance rolls his eyes.  To Chris, he whispers, "Please tell me you
knew right away that he wasn't me."

"I knew.  Only, like, he was all drunk.  So it was a very, very
slight possibility."

Justin leans against Dare, breathing heavily.  "Okay.  Time to go."

Dare tugs at Justin's wrists.  "Come back," he says in a cool
voice, before releasing them.

Justin smiles darkly.  "Oh, you can bet on it."

Chris shrugs and starts guiding Lance out of the room.

Lance follows Chris' hands.  He kinda feels sorry for JC and
Justin.  There's three of him and neither of them gets to keep
their 'Lance', not the way Chris does.  But Chris is who he wants,
so he doesn't feel that sorry.

JC and Justin follow.  After the pre-show hacky, Chris leans into
Lance.  "And they all lived happily ever after."

"You think?"

"Yeah."

"Good.  I won't have to get everyone a set of Chrises then."

"No.  No way."

Lance grins impishly at him.  "Don't worry.  I wouldn't trade in
the real thing."