My Surprise Romance

Hi y'all...

And a big hel-lo!!!!!! It seems that it's been forever since my last update (like 2 weeks?) but school calls and as much as I do not want to go anymore, I have to--last year (and then I get a real job...ugh...) Anyways, enough with the blabbering...Just a big "I'm sorry" that it's taken so long and let's pray that it won't happen again :)

Anyways, thank you, thank you, thank you and thank you (enough???) to all of the wonderful people who wrote me after the last chapter :) Each time the comments get better and better and...well, thank you. Y'all are so sweet and I love you all!!! MUAH. Remember, I like to hear what you think (and I'm sorry if I haven't replied yet to some e-mails--I will, I will, I will...I'm not ignoring you, I've just been up my ass in plaster (which sounds much kinkier than it it, trust me)) But remember: sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com -- Use it, love it, know it...A big huge thank you out to everyone that I know and love and who sends me the feedback I love so much: Damon, Val, KiKi, John, Khiem, Cele...Ryan...Em... I know I'm forgetting people here. I know I am... it's because I'm a total ditz and I'm lucky I can wake up in the mornings....oh and of course, Chris (You know, with all of that Hickory Farms sausage and pizza--I'm really starting to get thirsty. Milk? Beercans? Hee hee hee...we're so cute!) and definitely last but not least, Justin--well, what can I say sweetie??? You're a silly boy, you make me smile, you drive me insane sometimes (the good kind) and I don't know what I would do if I never met you...love ya!

And yes, the big hussy's website--mine of course! It's updated--new layout, new design, new look for fall 2000--new stuff (those people who've already visited it, seem to think I'm a funny girl :) ) My very own Lansh Awards featuring Lance in a variety of poses...and that's all I have to say. Okay, now go, go, go...http://sweetheart.homepage.com

Ahhh...the DISCLAIMER: Blah, blah, blah--this story involves a m/m relationship that you should be either 18 or 21 to read (and if you aren't, I don't wanna know, my eyes are shut and my lips are sealed), it is not to mean that Lance Bass is gay (although you could have fooled me by wearing that glittery outfit at the VMA's. And JC--a pimp jacket? Come on...). It also features more references to hot monkey sex than you can shake a stick at. Don't likey? Don't read. And oh yes, one more thing:

I can promise that this is the last serious chapter...promise

My Surprise Romance

The Better to Dream of You

Chapter 44

"The Eloquence of a Showdown Parts 1 and 2"

Part 1

Lance and I stood there, staring at Stacey with what I'm sure were dumbfounded looks slapped on our clueless faces. She wanted to talk to us? `You've got to be kidding me', I managed the think as my mind attempted to get over the sheer disbelief of what was happening. What could she possibly want to tell us? That we were going to burn in hell? Excuse me, but if I'm not mistaken, Stacey had already made that point pretty clear to Lance and I.

Lance stared at his sister as though he was seeing her through different eyes. Whenever he would talk about his family, I noticed that his green eyes had always grown bright with happiness and pride. Not now--instead they had turned almost emerald with anger and resentment as they focused in on the blonde standing in front of us. It was as though he was trying to decode her motives. Obviously Lance had enough, because he finally saw fit to shatter the silence between us.

"What do you want to talk to us about, Stace?" Lance spat out in a surprisingly disgusted tone of voice. "You made your point very clear to both Stephen and me yesterday. You hate us--plain and simple." Stacey winced at her brother's harshly spoken words and placed her hand on the door handle.

"Lance, please?" she begged, rattling the screen door. "Let me inside and let me talk to you both. Please??? Please?" Lance eyed her with the same suspicious gaze for a couple of seconds. I saw a defeated sigh escape his lips as he reached forward and unlocked the barrier between us. He gave the door a lackluster push and stepped back, allowing Stacey to step into the hallway.

Once she was inside, she turned to face the two of us. "Where can we talk?" she asked quietly, brushing a stray lock of blonde hair out of her sapphire eyes. "How about your room, Lance?"

As she spoke, I noticed that the tone of her voice matched her demeanor: calm and composed. Lance looked at Stacey as though she had gone insane. What had brought on her sudden change of heart? She was treating us like actual human beings. But still, maybe I had watched too many movies, or maybe I just know from experience, but her acceptance of us would have been way too perfect. There was something shifty about Stacey's mannerisms that made me suspicious. Call it second instinct. Call it the fact that I knew she wasn't here to apologize for what she said....she had something up her sleeve and it made my stomach jump.

"Okay," Lance agreed, looking more than a little surprised as he began his ascent up the stairs. Hearing the voice of his daughter, Jim appeared from the kitchen, with a flabbergasted look on his face.

"Stacey?" he questioned, his voice heavy with shock. "What are you doing here?" She just gave him a serene smile as she followed Lance up the staircase.

"I wanted to speak to Lance and...Stephen..." As she said my name, I noticed that her face formed itself into a slight cringe, as her sweet sounding voice faltered. "Can't I?" And without waiting for his answer, we continued to walk up the steps, while I brought up the rear. Once we were inside Lance's bedroom, I shut the door behind me. I noticed that Stacey's angelic facade had changed once the three of us were alone. Her friendly look had disappeared and a displeased one had replaced it. Lance had taken a seat on his bed and I decided to sit next to him. Stacey placed herself on a footlocker that sat at the foot of the bed, and crossed her legs. It was hot in his room and the fact that Stacey was sitting there, shooting us evil looks didn't make me feel any better. A nervous trickle of sweat ran down my neck. Lance didn't look any better than I felt--he looked as though he was going to throw up any second.

Instead of talking, the three of us sat in excruciating silence. Instinctively, Lance reached out and took my hand in his. I could tell that he needed my comfort; I could feel him shaking as his soft fingers wrapped around my hand. Stacey noticed her brother's move and a look of discomfort flickered across her face. Seeing her disapproval only caused Lance to grip my hand even tighter, nearly cutting off my circulation in the process.

"Okay, Stace, what do you want? What do you want to talk to us about? You want to give me and Stephen another lecture?" Lance challenged, while narrowing his eyes. "Go ahead...I don't care." Lance frowned at the blonde. "Whatever you say will not change my mind."

A look of hurt flashed across her face. "Lance, please!" Stacey exclaimed as she reached over to touch him. But instead, Lance jerked away from her as though her touch was poisonous. Stacey stared at him in shock, rapidly blinking away the tears that had formed in the corners of her eyes. But Lance could care less that his sister was about to cry. I saw a red heat creep up the side of his neck as he slowly let go of my hand and stood up from his place on the bed.

"Please what, Stacey???? `Please tell me that you're not gay? Please tell me that this is just a joke?'"" he yelled, unable to control his emotions any more. "You will never know how much you hurt me yesterday, Stace." As each word left his mouth, Lance continued to step closer and closer to his sister, until his face was just inches from hers. Stacey stared at him as though he had gone off his rocker.

I'll be the first to admit this: at that moment, Lance looked crazy--a raving lunatic would have looked saner. His eyes were on fire and his slightly tanned skin had turned crimson. A wave of sweat had broken out on his forehead as the inner hurt left his mouth in tangled sentences. But his anger made sense. I could relate to him. I don't think Stacey knew the depths of her hateful words--I knew how Lance felt because I saw my mother in Stacey: that all-knowing, pompous attitude, the controlling behavior, and the idea that she knew what was best for Lance. It was disgusting and selfish and I hated it more than anything else in the world.

But Lance continued to rage on, the pitch of his voice now rattling my eardrums. "What you said yesterday was completely unforgivable! You know what, Stacey?" The question had popped into his mind. It was sudden and ominous. And he didn't bother to let Stacey answer it. "You're a fucking bitch--plain and simple English. You never even gave me a chance to explain before you started preaching your religious crap at me and Stephen--"

Lance abruptly stopped his madman ranting and the crazy look vanished from his face. I could practically read his mind: `I called my sister a fucking bitch...' In all of the time I had known him, he had never used those words to describe a female. He had always thought people who used it were unintelligent, chauvinist pigs. And now he had used it. On his sister, no less. Lance's mouth dropped open as the realization struck him and his eyes slowly focused in on the older girl in front of him.

Stacey looked as though she had been slapped in the face. The tears that she had attempted to hide, now steadily streamed down her cheeks and onto her shirt. Her breathing had come to a halt as Lance watched her cry. Of all the times to use the f-ing b-words, I thought as I stared at my boyfriend in shock. I had never seen this angry, hateful side of him, and I didn't like it one bit. I had it. Just because Stacey had offended Lance and I, it did not mean that he had to resort to fifth grade name calling. I suddenly stood up, roughly grabbed Lance by his broad shoulders and spun him around so that I could look into his furious eyes.

"James Lance Bass!!!" I roared, while giving his shoulders a good, brain rattling shake. "For the love of God, listen to what she has to say! Do you realize that you're screaming at your sister the same way that she screamed at us yesterday??? Look at yourself--I didn't like what she said either, but for God's sake, right now, you're acting no better than she did."

Lance's eyes grew round at my thundering words. He stared at me in stunned silence. I had never yelled at him before (Tried to hit him. Yes--he had seen my angry side before, but to yell at him? No.) The scene in the room had turned ugly and I seemed to be the only one making sense (how weird is that?). I lowered my voice, and finished up my thought.

"Just listen to what Stacey has to say before you go yelling at her anymore." And with those final words, I let go of Lance's broad shoulders and sat back down on the bed.

I looked back up to see Stacey staring at me like I had just jolted her with a thousand watts of electricity. I had defended her and she hadn't seen that coming. Her lower lip trembled as her tear-filled eyes met mine.

"T-thank you Stephen," she managed to say. "Thank you." She looked at me expectantly, waiting for an answer. I decided not to though. All I did in response was break the gaze between us as I stiffly folded my arms across my chest. I didn't want to answer her; I didn't want to say you're welcome' or no problem' because I didn't want to. Yes, I had defended her, but that didn't mean she was suddenly my best friend. She had hurt both Lance and I terribly, and I still couldn't forgive her for that.

Lance looked down at me, his mouth agape with shock. I guess he hadn't expected me to defend his sister either. He just sat himself back down on the bed and placed his head in his hands. He was thinking about what I was saying. He was thinking about his sister and everything else that was clouding his judgment. When Lance looked back up at his sister, there was a scowl on his handsome face

"Okay then--say your peace and then get out of here."

Stacey rose from her seat on the footlocker and walked over to us. "Lance, please don't treat me like this--please," she begged him, a fresh wave of tears running down her face.

Lance looked at Stacey and swallowed. I could tell that he hated himself for putting his sister through this. Lance wasn't one of those types who got off on hurting people, especially someone that he loved so much. He was the most caring person that I knew...Lance wasn't like this, I kept telling myself as Stacey and I waited for him to say something.

"Then say you're sorry," Lance finally choked out. "Say you're sorry for what you said yesterday and tell me that you're going to accept me and Stephen together. Please tell me that's what you came to tell me because that's the only answer I'll accept from you." His beautiful green eyes were filled with so much overwhelming sadness, my heart split in two. `Why was this happening?', I thought to myself. Why couldn't life just be like the movies, where everything works out and it all ends with a kiss in the rain and everyone lives happily ever after?

I watched a funny look cross Stacey's face. She opened her mouth to say something and then snapped it shut. A few more seconds passed and it looked as though she was struggling with something inside of her.

"Lance..." Stacey began before biting her lip shut. "I...I...I can't. I just can't say that I accept you this way, Lance. Please--I went down to the church yesterday--and I was hoping that you could go and talk to the minister down there and maybe they can help you through your problems....I know this isn't the real you, Lance.... " And then she had the nerve to smile at him. Like those words had bandaged up the open wounds and everything was a-okay.

It was at this statement I lost myself. Suddenly history repeated itself all over again. I saw my mother standing there. Church. Stacey wanted Lance to go to church to talk to someone there about his sexuality. What was the obsession with church? Granted, it's wonderful place to worship God (if you're Catholic or one of the other religions that utilizes a church--at least that was the one religion I was familiar with), but why did Stacey think that church was the obvious place to `cure' Lance? It wasn't as though Lance had a terrible disease or something. Church wasn't a hospital. My mother had thought that church would help me out too and now look what had happened with that. Look at how everything had ended up. We had gone to hell in a handbasket and there was nothing I could do right now but sit and watch as the brother/sister relationship between Lance and Stacey crumbled right before my eyes.

"...really. He's willing to forgive you of your sins, Lance," I heard Stacey finishing up. "Please, Lance--for me, for momma and for daddy? Please? Renounce your mistake before its too late." She stood there, pleading her case with tears still fresh in her eyes. I waited for Lance's answer. As my mind began to work overtime, a chill ran down my spine. What if Lance did take Stacey's words in consideration? What if he realized that Stacey's words were right? What if he dumped me right there on the spot and told me that our relationship was just an `experiment'? It could happen...enough bad things had happened to me...

And maybe I had become delusional too. A dumbfounded look crossed Lance's face as the realization of his sister's soft-spoken words hit his ears and worked into his brain. He began to shake again--not because he was scared or worried--but because he was mad. Madder than before. He was fuming and he stood up, arms flailing, nearly hitting me in the face. Lance took a deep breath and I braced myself...

"How dare you say that this is a mistake, Stacey," Lance screamed at his sister. "Mistake?' Sin?' Don't you know that Stephen is the best thing that's ever happened to me in my entire life? I love him, Stacey. I. Love. Him." His last words came out in short staccato breaths, as Lance quickly wiped away his tears

"Stacey--nothing--no church or minister or whatever else comes up in your sick mind can change what I feel inside. Or what I feel about Stephen. I don't care if you like it or not." The tears now fell freely and an awful look crossed his face. "And until you can understand that about me Stacey--I have no sister."

No sister? What? I stared at Lance in disbelief. Why had he just said that? I looked at Lance and saw that he had stunned himself by saying those words. I knew that he hadn't expected to say that, but he couldn't help it. The words had just fallen from his mouth, pushed out by the anger and frustration that Stacey had built up inside of him. I knew that he didn't mean it, and Lance knew that he didn't mean it. If there was a rewind button one of us could have pressed, we would have, because I knew that Lance didn't want to hurt his sister like that. But he had and there was nothing that could take the words away.

I would remember the look on Stacey's face for the rest of my life. Her blue eyes grew round with astonishment. I'm not sure why she looked so shocked. Was it because she had expected Lance to dump me right then and there and run off to church? Or was it because of Lance's denouncement of her? Whichever one it was, the look that appeared on Stacey's face would be permanently fixed in my mind forever.

"Fine," Stacey spat out, not bothering to wipe away the tears that were running down her face. "If you want to put a complete stranger before your family Lance, then go ahead. And as far as I'm concerned, I have no brother either. Forget it Lance--you could be dying on the sidewalk and I wouldn't even lift a finger to help you." She fumed for a couple of seconds before situating herself nose to nose with her brother.

"I hope you both burn in hell," she sneered in a low whisper. Her body shook with anger as her gaze burned an angry sapphire beam into Lance's. And with that, she spun around on her heel towards the door and stomped out of his bedroom. We both heard as her angry footsteps bounded down the staircase.

And there in the middle of the bedroom, stood Lance, looking as though someone had frozen him into place. He didn't move for a couple of seconds and I seriously thought that maybe his heart had stopped. His breathing seemed to have come to a complete halt as well, as his eyes focused on the door that his sister had just walked through. I think he expected Stacey to reappear, find her way back to him and tell him that it was all a joke. But that wasn't going to happen...

I found myself standing up from the bed, making my way to Lance. I didn't know what to say, I really didn't. I found that my tongue had twisted itself into a knot. My heart was breaking. All of the things my imagination was capable of thinking, Lance disowning his sister never even crossed my mind...that was the last thing I had expected him to do. As I stood inches away from my boyfriend, I gingerly wrapped my arms around Lance's waist, not sure how he would react to my touch. Sometimes when you're angry, the last thing you wanted or needed was for someone to touch you. But Lance wasn't one of those types. Instead, he fell into my arms as though the bones in his legs had dissolved. He was shaking worse than before, as his eyes just focused on the ceiling above him.

"Lance?" I asked worriedly, my voice just above a whisper. "Are you okay?" He turned to look me and as I looked into his eyes, I noticed that the whites of those magnificent eyes were bloodshot from the silent tears that had fallen. And then he stood up on his feet, as though the bones in his legs had reformed. A resentful look crossed his face as he examined me.

"What do you think, Stephen?" Lance asked bitterly. "Do you think I'm okay? Do I look okay? Huh? Did you see what just happened there? Jesus, how dumb can one person be?" As soon as he realized what he had just said, Lance slapped a hand over his mouth. "Oh God, Stephen--I'm sorry....I didn't mean it--"

"Lance, I understand," I interrupted as I held on to him. "Don't apologize to me. I know what happened--I was here, remember?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood between us a little. My comment caused the corners of Lance's mouth to pull up slightly, but not much. He looked down at his feet and shuffled them in place. He didn't know what to do with himself. A couple of deep breaths escaped his lips before he looked back up at me.

"Stephen--what happened there? What happened to my sister? Did she really say all those things?" He shook his head sadly. "You don't know Stace at all...she was always so wonderful..." I could believe that. I knew exactly what Lance was talking about because I had experienced it myself.

"I know Lance--I know all about schizo-acting family members," I sighed, allowing a bitter laugh to pepper my words. "You never got a chance to meet my mom. She was one of the most beautiful people that ever lived--or at least I thought she was." I attempted to defend her memory, but my heart stopped me. "But look at what she did to me." I shook my head. "I just guess that Stacey is one of those types..." I trailed off sadly, pulling Lance into an ever snugger embrace. He didn't resist and instead, rested his head against my shoulder, allowing us to become lost in our thoughts. I was surprised that neither Jim nor Diane had come upstairs to see what all of the ruckus had been about. Maybe one of them had stopped Stacey on the way out...maybe they hadn't. Whatever. I really didn't care about her at the moment. What I cared about was right there in my arms. That was all that mattered to me.

After a few more seconds had passed, Lance looked back up at me, his eyes free of tears now. He reached up to trace a path down my cheekbone. The feeling of his skin against mine sent shivers down my spine.

"You know I meant every word I said, right Stephen?" Lance asked, his voice thick with emotion.

"Huh?" I asked him, not sure what he was talking about. My mind had somehow drifted back to Stacey the witch. Lance meant what he had said? Did he really mean that Stacey wasn't his sister anymore? For real? I began to inwardly panic at the thought and I suddenly felt responsible for breaking up the family. As these thoughts flew through my mind, Lance noticed the look of trepidation on my face and pulled me closer to him. So close, in fact, the tips of our noses were touching.

"What I told Stace--that you're the best thing that ever happened to me," Lance whispered, staring directly into my eyes. "I meant that. I meant every single word that I said about you. It wasn't just to prove something." He paused for a second and a euphoric look crossed his face. "You know I love you, right?" His eyes widened and he looked so hopeful...I couldn't help but laugh. It seemed to lighten the tension that still hung in the air. And sometimes, you have to laugh....even if you don't feel like it. It just makes everything seem so much better.

"I know that you love me, Lance," I shook my head in disbelief. "I just can't believe that you would put me before your family...I'm not that important, you know..."

Lance looked at me as though I was the one who had just gone insane. "Not that important? Not that important? Stephen, you're the most important thing I have in my life right now. You make me so happy, I just want to run outside and tell everyone I that I see." He stopped to let out a forlorn sigh as reality sunk back in. "But I know I can't--and besides, even if I wanted to, I just don't feel like being crucified today," Lance joked, although I could tell that his heart wasn't in it. He continued to stare into my eyes, running his index finger up and down my cheekbone. A look of frustration flashed across his face.

"Stephen, why can't people just be happy for us?" Lance suddenly asked me. Fire flashed though his eyes, making them glow angrily. "Just because were both guys--I don't get it. You'd think that Stace would be happy that I finally found someone to love...I was happy when she found Ford. I mean, if Stace came and told me that she was gay and had a girlfriend, I would never treat them way she treated us." Lance choked up at the thought of his sister. "Never" he repeated empathetically. "I would give them my blessing and life would go on."

I held back a sigh as Lance's beautiful words sunk into my soul. And like so many other times, I wondered how I had managed to find him. It was almost as though he was sent to me from above. Why?

Because you were meant to be with each other,' the voice in my head spoke up. Stephen, you stupid retard--it was fate for Natalie to have won those tickets--you and Lance were both searching for someone to make you happy and you both found it in each other.' But somehow, I was the one causing the pain--wasn't I? If Lance hadn't met me, then he would have never came out and everything would be fine with his sister. Wouldn't it? There were so many questions that I desperately needed answered, and yet, none of them could be. Another idea popped into my mind just then, and before I could think it over, my lips blurted it out.

"Lance...I'll leave if you want me to. Just say the word and I'll disappear out of your life," the words came out tentatively and I dreaded to hear his answer, What if he thought it was a good idea? What if he wanted me to leave so that he could patch up his relationship with Stacey? So it caught me by surprise when Lance picked up his hand and drew it across my face, slapping me at almost full force. It hurt like hell. I could still feel the sting from his touch, as I reached up and began rubbing my sore face.

"Hey! What the fuck was that for?" I exclaimed, giving Lance my angriest look. I wanted to be mad at him, but for some reason, I knew why he had hit me. It was to knock some sense into me, I guess...

"Leave me? Stephen, you left me once and there's no way in the world I'm letting you go again. If I have to get a pair of handcuffs and chain you to my bed--hmmmm," Lance slowly stroked the day old stubble that dotted his chin and gave me a devilish grin. "That's not such a bad idea, is it?" Lance murmured before leaning over and placing a soft kiss on my lips. I let out a sigh once our lips touched. The pain from Lance's slap was rapidly being replaced by a thrill of happiness that shot straight through me. When we parted, Lance took my hands in his, staring at them for a couple of seconds before speaking.

"I don't care if the entire world disowns me just because I love you. You know I'm miserable without you and you know you're miserable without me." He managed to flash a charming grin at me, despite all of the pain that was wallowing in those soul-searching eyes of his.

"You're right," I answered while giving him a sad smile. "We are miserable without each other." Lance nodded knowingly and rested his head on my shoulder while I wrapped my arms around his waist once more. Through the cloth of our shirts, I could feel his heart beating next to mine. I could hear the somewhat raspy breaths that left his throat and the little breaths that escaped his nostrils. I wished we could stay that way forever. A couple of seconds passed before Lance looked back up at me again, question marks in his eyes.

"Stephen?" he said my name quietly and I noticed at that moment, Lance suddenly looked much younger than his twenty-one years, as slight tears pooled in the corners of his eyes. My heart ached at seeing him in this much pain. "Can I ask you something?" I wanted to help him. I just wanted to wave a magic wand and fix everything, because Lance had always attempted to fix things for me. I didn't know what I could do to help...I felt like such a failure.

"Yes, Lance?" I pulled his body closer to mine and waited for his answer.

"Why can't we just be happy?" He whispered the words against my ear, before placing a small kiss on my earlobe. I know I should have answered him with some kind of comforting answer, but I just couldn't. I couldn't lie to him--not at that particular moment. So instead, I only said what I could say: the truth.

"I don't know, Lance," I said, placing a soft kiss on his forehead. "I wish I did, but I don't. All I know is that I love you so much..." And Lance didn't say a word. I knew by the silence present between us that I had said the words he was longing to hear.

We stood there not wanting to move, content with holding on to each other. I felt a soft smile form on my lips as I realized how perfect our bodies fit together. It was as though Lance and I had been the odd mismatched pieces of a puzzle that could never interlock with any other pieces. And now we finally found our perfect match in each other. I felt myself involuntarily pull Lance closer, a small sigh escaping his mouth as my hand ran up and down his spine before resting on the small of his back.

I noticed that Lance and I always found comfort in each other's arms. No matter what situation surrounded us, whether it was a happy event or something that just made us wish the world was ending, we always came back to each other. It scared me for a second, since I knew that Lance and I had actually known each other for roughly two months. Was everything still moving along too fast? I had never been able to experience the closeness of a relationship before. Maybe this was all wrong. Maybe Stacey was right. Maybe my mom was too.

I looked back down at the man in my arms, whose blonde head was still rested comfortably against my shoulder. And when I looked at Lance, all of those doubts that had been floating around in my head were suddenly erased. I placed another kiss on his forehead and was rewarded with a grateful, happy smile. Yeah, we had our problems, but that was to be expected. I think that if Lance and I had a perfect relationship, I would have left him right there. But we didn't. And suddenly I didn't care about anything else except for what Lance and I felt for each other. That was all that mattered.

"The Eloquence of a Showdown" Part 2

I don't know what possessed me to do what I was doing. Maybe I was crazy. Maybe I was insane. Maybe one day the mental institution would accept me with open arms and place me in a snug fitting strait jacket, but for now, I guess I was sane...although the gods would probably disagree with that.

Jim had taken Lance out for lunch. I think that was a little one-on-one, father/son bonding thing. I had been invited to go along with them, but I knew I would have just felt like a tag along. As I watched them leave for some local restaurant, one of my bright ideas popped into my mind.

It was this bright idea that wound me up in a car with Diane, sitting in the driveway of the house that Stacey and Ford lived in. It was a nice house, and by the looks of it, you would have never guessed that such an angry, resentful member of the Bass family lived inside there. The residence looked perfect--white wicker fence, freshly mowed grass and flowers encircling the perimeter of the house.

"Stephen..." Diane began nervously, as she glanced at me. "I'm not sure if Stacey will want to even talk to you--I mean, both Jim and I thought that what she and Lance said to each other was completely inappropriate. But we couldn't take sides." Diane let out a forlorn sigh as she ran a hand through her brunette hair. "No one wants to hear that their son is going to hell, you know." She rested her hands on the steering wheel, and tapped her fingers nervously on it.

"I know that, Diane, but I would like to talk to Stacey. I want to talk to her. I know that we barely know each other--in fact, I'm positive that she thinks I'm some sort of evil spirit that's taken her brother away." Somehow I managed to let a self-depricating laugh leave my mouth, but Diane stared at me in shock. I guess she hadn't expected me to be so brutally honest, but I was. I had always been like that. A slight smile crossed her lips.

"Stephen...I want you to know that Jim and I have nothing but respect for you--but I'll be honest with you. If you were different--" Diane paused somewhat painfully, not wanting to say the next words. "We wouldn't like you as much. You're very mature, Stephen and both Jim and I respect that about you. I'm sorry that Stacey can't see past your sexuality--" Diane gave me a wry smile. "Now, don't get me wrong--I do believe in the rules of the church and God and all of that, but it changes a little when your son is affected by them. A year ago, I would have said that all homosexuals burn in hell. Now, I'm not so sure that's true. I know my Lance...I know that I love my son and that Jim loves him as well. I don't want to think that Lance is...going to go to...hell when he dies." She shuddered at the thought and then cleared her throat. "Like I said before, no one wants to hear that their son is going to hell."

"I understand," I said gravely as we sat side by side in the hot, stuffy car. It felt like an oven in there. "I appreciate the fact that you brought me here, though. I really do."

"And I'm impressed by the fact that you would want to talk to a woman who despises you," Diane answered with a nervous laugh. "Not many people would want to face someone like that."

"Look," I said somewhat wearily. "I would do anything for Lance--anything. And it broke my heart when he disowned his sister--I don't want to offend, you Diane, but today he was no better than my own mother."

Diane stared at me with a shocked expression as I'm sure all of you are. Did I just compared the man that I loved with my whole heart, my whole soul, to the same person who cut me out of her life and screwed me over in the afterlife? Yes, I did. I did it because there were so many parallels to what my mother had done to me, I knew that Stacey had been hurt by her brother's harsh words. But it had been her fault as well. Just like it had been my fault that my mother disowned me.

Sounds confusing? Okay, let me explain.

Stacey's narrowminded demeanor had caused Lance to lash out at her, right? Well, I had been thinking about this for awhile, and maybe, just maybe I had brought on my own disownment. I had shut out my mother. When I had first started hanging out with Lance, before I knew he was gay, before we had fallen in love, my mother had asked me who I was going out to meet. And I refused to tell her. Yeah, she had originally freaked out when I told her I was gay, but maybe if I had made an effort to talk to her, she would have come around. But instead, I hoped that my mother would come crawling back to me, and being the stubborn prick I am, I waited and waited...until it was too late. And that's why I had come to find Stacey--because I didn't want to see another senseless family split. Family was one of the most important things that a person could have, and I didn't want to see Lance lose his sister. Not over something that could be discussed--and if Stacey still couldn't understand, then fine. At least I tried. I would have that on my conscious.

With one last look at Diane, we got out of the car, headed up the sidewalk and up the staircase. Diane reached out and pressed her finger to the doorbell, and I could hear a faint `ding-dong' echo throughout the house. I stood there, nervously hopping from one foot to the other. The seconds passed by and Diane and I exchanged concerned looks. Maybe no one was home.

I was about to suggest that to Diane, when the front door suddenly flew open. There, standing in front of us, was Stacey. Obviously by her red-rimmed eyes and slightly smudged makeup, she had been crying. She shot me a look of pure evil, sending uncomfortable shivers down my spine.

"What do you want?" she spat out, placing her hand protectively on the lock of the screen door.

"I'd like to talk to you," I said calmly, even though I was shaking inside. I know it sounds funny, me being frightened of a girl. I wasn't physically afraid of her, no, what I afraid of were the words that were capable of leaving her mouth.

"Well, I have nothing to say to you," Stacey shot back, crossing her arms over her chest. Stacey whipped her gaze to her mother. "I'm surprised about you mom--I can't even believe that you're accepting him and Lance to...to be together." She narrowed her sapphire eyes at both of us.

"Stacey, please," Diane begged. "Why are you acting this way? I just don't understand--usually you're so caring and accepting of people--you always have been." Diane shook her head in confusion. "At least let us in so we can talk--I really don't want to make a public spectacle of us out here."

"I'll let you in, mom--but I refuse to let him in," Stacey sneered as she opened the screen door a crack. Diane's eyes widened at her daughter's announcement.

"Stacey! Where are your manners? Just because your married and living on your own, doesn't mean that you have the right to act like this."

"It's my house and I'll decide who I'll let in," Stacey huffed, her face turning red from anger. Something boiled over inside of me. As I watched the snotty blonde stand there, with her arrogant power trip, something in me snapped. It was the same thing that had snapped when I quit my job and when Marshall told me that I shouldn't have rushed to Lance's side when he fell. It was that part of me that snapped. I didn't like to be treated like a two year old idiot.

"Why are you such a bitch?" I suddenly broke in. Both she and Diane gasped at my rude comment, but I didn't care anymore. Let Diane lose respect of me. I was losing my respect while Stacey discriminated me from entering her house. And why? Because I was gay? I was sick of Stacey and the high horse that she was perched on. She had no right to treat me the way she was--and I didn't appreciate it. I was a human being for Christ's sake and she was treating me lower than dirt.

"Excuse me?" she shrilled, placing her hands on her hips. Her eyes turned indigo with rage. "What did you just say to me?!?"

"I said, `Why are you such a bitch?'" I repeated as my fists clenched at my side. "Normally, I'm not so childish with my statements, but then again, I've never met anyone as rude as you. It's hard for me to believe that you and Lance came from the same family. In fact, it's hard for me to even believe that Jim and Diane even raised you, because they've been nothing but wonderful to me ever since I've met them," I declared. I couldn't believe that I was actually standing there, ranting like a maniac. But I didn't care anymore. I had to say this.

"You little fa--" Stacey was about to interrupt, but I wouldn't let her. Instead, I continued to rage on, feeling new life creep into my blood. I was strong...I had to say this. I didn't want to be the pushover anymore. My mother had treated me like dirt and maybe if I wasn't such a spineless wimp, I wouldn't be where I was today.

"What, Stacey? What? Faggot? Is that what you were gonna call me?" I demanded. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Diane watching me, looking at me with a mixture of embarrassment and admiration. "Go ahead--I've been called worse. I really don't care what you think of me--I just refuse to stand aside and let you hurt Lance--he's a wonderful person, Stacey and if you can't look beyond his sexuality, then you're pretty pathetic." And with that, I turned back to face Diane. The floored expression on her face said it all. She stood there, speechless as I began my decent down the stairs.

"I'm going wait in the car," I told her. With every step I took, I felt better and better about myself. I had tried to talk to Stacey, knock some sense and understanding into her, but it was hopeless, really. You can't change everyone's opinions in life...

"Stephen--wait," a voice called out into the air. I stopped dead in my tracks and craned my neck backwards to where the voice had come from. I turned myself back around to find Stacey standing there in the doorway, her eyes filled with tears as she watched me.

"What? What do you want?" I asked her, my voice coming out much harsher than I had intended to. I couldn't help it though--I was still angry. We stood there, staring at each other for a couple of seconds until she broke the silence.

"Would you like to come in so we can talk?" she asked meekly as a red blush creeped up her neck. "I think there's a few things that we need to talk about."

Despite the animosity that still lingered inside, a wave of understanding also came over me. Something had changed--I'm not sure what, but it had and now Stacey was inviting me inside of her house. I just hoped that it wasn't to kill me or anything...

"Sure," I answered, my voice sounding much calmer. "Sure."

And so, I found myself sitting in the living room, a cup in my coffee in my hand. I stretched my long legs out in front of me as I took a sip. As the hot liquid trickled down my throat, I wondered if I should have even drank it. Maybe Stacey was trying to kill me or something. I considered saying this to her, as a joke, but then I saw the composed look on her face and I decided against it.

Diane was in the den, talking to Stacey's husband Ford, so it was me and the witch--alone. I was a bit concerned about why Stacey wanted to talk to me, and so I sat there, waiting for her to make the first move. And she did.

"Look, Stephen--I'd hate to have you think I'm some kind of monster," she began softly, cradling a glass of water in her hands. "Because I'm not." She gave me a slight smile and cleared her throat before continuing.

"I know it seems like I'm the most irrational person that ever lived--and I'd hate to have you think that about me. I want you to know that I care about Lance more than you'll ever know. He's my brother--we grew up together." She let out a sad sigh and looked at me.

"Then why did you say such horrible things to Lance?" I blurted out. "Why did you hurt him the way you did?"

Stacey grew silent with thought. A few minutes passed by, the silence grew in leaps and bounds. I could hear was the ticking of the clock that sat on the wall. I could hear the voices of Diane and Ford floating through the air. I just wished she would say something.

"Stephen," she finally said as her face contoured into a grimace. "You don't understand--everytime Lance comes back from tour, it's like he's a new person. He's changed so much in these past few years, grew up so fast and now...now he's decided that he's gay..."

"Stacey," I broke in. "No one wakes up one morning and decides their gay. It's not like a pair of pants or a t-shirt that you decide to wear--"

"Don't you think I know that?" Stacey exclaimed, her eyes flickering with emotion. "I'm not some dumb hick just because I'm from the south. I know that you don't choose to be gay." She paused once more. "It's just weird...I mean, I think I could have handled Lance coming back and telling us that he was gay, but to find out that he has a boyfriend too?" Stacey shook her head in incredulity. "That's just a little too much."

"Why?" I asked her, setting my coffee on the endtable next to me. "Why does it bother you that Lance and I are dating each other?" I noticed her cringe once I said the word, "date". I guess she still couldn't handle the fact that I was Lance's boyfriend. "Aren't you happy that he's found someone?"

"I am!" She exclaimed indigently. "I am happy for Lance! Don't you dare imply that I'm not happy for my little brother, because I am...I just wish it wasn't with another person of the same sex."

"Why should that matter?" I challenged her. "Shouldn't it matter if Lance is happy?"

"Yes, but, Stephen--you just don't understand. All of those things I said about the church is true. I believe in that. I was raised in the Southern Baptist faith and I incorporate a lot of those morals in my life. Why do you think I got married at such an early age?" A brief, blink-and-you'll-miss-it smile flickered across her face before she continued explaining. "But Stephen, that's not the real reason I was against you and Lance being together..."

My ears perked up at this. There was another reason? Like one hadn't been enough, right? I didn't say anything, but instead, nodded my head, encouraging her to go on.

"Stephen--I don't want Lance having to go through any troubles in life," Stacey explained slowly as she rubbed her temple. "See, you didn't know Lance when he was still James. You know him as Lance from `N Sync, you know him now--I'm not saying that's why you like him, it's just that you never knew him in high school."

I looked at Stacey, intrigued by her words. Was there something I didn't know about my boyfriend? Some deep, dark secret that she was going to reveal? I wanted answers...all I could do was nod my head once more, hoping that she would go on.

"Look, when Lance was in high school, and when he started out with the guys, he used to get called all kinds of names. Everything--gay, fag, loser, wimp--everything. Apparently, it's just not cool in high school to sing love songs and do dance routines with four other guys. But the worst part was that I used to wonder about Lance myself." A blush slowly creeped across her face. "Me and Uncle Jeff used to talk about Lance all the time. We always used to wonder about him. He had girlfriends--mom and dad even caught him fooling around with some girl one time." She smiled at the thought, but it soon faded as she began to dig even deeper into her thoughts of the past. "And when I saw him dating, I was so happy. That meant he wasn't gay, but then none of his relationships would never work out. He'd always give me some baloney--they drifted apart, their personality clashed--something, and then he would just go back and put his whole being into the band."

"Really?" I asked, more than a little surprised that Stacey was spilling her soul out to me. Just a while ago, she was ready to throw me down the staircase and now, we were talking like nothing had happened. It was almost as thought she hadn't told Lance he was going to burn in hell.

"Really," Stacey confirmed with a smile. "I love my brother, I really do, Stephen. It might seem like I don't....I was just mad at him--I was mad at myself for thinking the way I did." She sucked in another deep breath and stared into my eyes. "When I saw you and Lance together--" she closed her eyes briefly and I could tell that the image of her brother and me sharing a quick kiss had entered her mind.

"When I saw you and Lance together," Stacey repeated, opening her blue eyes back up. "I was shocked--that is something that you never expect to see. But for some reason, when I saw you, I had this strange feeling. It stirred up all those doubts I had about my brother's sexuality. He looked at you in this way that I've never seen him look at another girl with and then I realized that my suspicions were right." She bowed her head, causing her blonde hair to fall around her face. "I was mad...I felt like Lance lied to me in some twisted way...am I making sense?" She asked me with a self-depricating smile on her lips.

"Perfect sense," I said with a slight laugh. "I think you're making yourself pretty clear."

"Good," Stacey said as she stared off into space for a couple of seconds, before snapping back to reality. "But you know what? I didn't even want to say those horrible things I said to Lance. I really didn't, Stephen--they just came out of my mouth and God knows I wanted to take them back, but I couldn't."

I paused for a moment. Debating with myself if I should say anything or not. I decided to go for it--what else did I have to lose? "Stacey you hurt Lance terribly," I told her. "You hurt him more than you'll ever know."

Stacey buried her head in her arms, her blonde hair flopping over her knees and down her legs. "Oh Lord," came her muffled groan, before she sat back up straight. "I didn't want to hurt Lance. I really didn't..."

"But you did. Look, I don't want you to feel like you're an ogre--I just wanted to let you know, because I just can't lie about stuff like that. I just came over to try and talk to you--I don't want you and Lance to have an estranged relationship with each other. That's not right--because if you did, there'll be one day that you'll wish you never said those things." I took a deep breath, as I thought of my mother.

"You care that much about Lance?" Stacey, with a clearly surprised look on her face. I was a bit taken aback by her question myself.

"Of course I do," I told her. "Lance is my boyfriend, not just someone I go and use..." I wanted to finish up my comment with, "for some hot monkey sex", but I stopped myself just in time. That was the last thing I needed to say--I had just gained Stacey's trust. Why would I risk alienating her now? She looked at me oddly.

"What?" Stacey asked, tipping her head curiously at me.

"Nothing," I brushed off. "Just something that crossed my mind. Not important. Sorry," I apologized, my face turning hot at the idea of hot monkey sex with Lance. My hormones had started to work overtime once more.

"That's okay," Stacey said, still looking at me oddly. "I understand...I think. Anyway, I'm really glad that you came to talk to me Stephen. And I do apologize for the way I acted towards you."

"Apology accepted. I just wanted to talk to you--I don't care if you accept me, it was Lance that I was more concerned about."

"Look, Stephen," Stacey cut in. "I can't promise you that I can give your relationship my blessing--there's a lot of things that I think are wrong with the two of you being together--a lot," Stacey added, with a shake of her head. "But, I want you to know three things."

"Shoot," I said, leaning back in my chair.

"Okay, one--I respect you greatly for coming over and talking to me. You didn't have to--and you certainly handled this whole ordeal more mature than me."

"Thank you," I said graciously. "So what's the second?"

"The second thing is that I love my brother--I want you to know that I still care about and love Lance--even if that means I'm never going to meet his wife anymore. That dream kind of died when I met you..." she said wryly, raising an eyebrow. I couldn't help but laugh at her comment, since that was unexpected.

"That's okay--I'm not exactly the child bearing type anyways," I joked. Stacey's face broke out into a huge grin when I said this, and I felt some of the tension in the air ease a bit.

"And the third thing is, I want you to know I'm not a raving bitch--I just flew off the deep end. I'm embarrassed about the way I acted both yesterday and today..." Stacey suddenly looked as though she wanted to fall through the floor. "Lord, I don't know what came over me--I shouldn't have had a problem with Lance, I know I shouldn't--but I do. It's just that--" Stacey's cheeks turned a slight pink color and she shut her mouth.

"What?" I asked her gently, not wanting to pry. "What's wrong?"

The light pink darkened to crimson and she shut her eyes. Then she opened them and looked at me in embarrassment. "I don't want to offend you, Stephen..."

"It takes an awful lot to offend me," I laughed gently, not wanting to make Stacey feel any more embarrassed than she already did. Plus I was curious to know what was making her turn the color of a tomato.

"Well..." Stacey began slowly. "I guess it's just weird to think--" She rolled her sapphire eyes heavenward as her face burned even redder. "I guess--just that...you...and Lance...." She cringed momentarily before forging on. "Well...there's no nice way to ask you, you and my brother don't...what I mean to say is--"

I cut her off, wanting to spare her the embarrassment of asking the question, since I knew what she wanted to ask. "You want to know if your brother has a sex life?" I said, trying to put it as delicately as possible. Somehow I didn't think saying, "Yes, Stacey everytime Lance and I get together, we have wild, hot, earthshaking monkey sex" would be the most tactful way to go even though I was thinking about having wild, hot, earthshaking monkey sex with Lance at that moment. I felt bad for Stacey--she was just curious, I guess, and honestly, I was surprised Diane or Jim hadn't insinuated that subject already. But then, no parent wants to really think about their child sleeping with someone. At least, I know I wouldn't want to know if my child was...

Stacey placed her hands over her face once more and I heard her let out muffled groan. "Yes..I guess that's what I wanted to ask. That's just really weird for me to think--my little brother..." She mumbled into her lap before she let out a sad sigh. When she looked back up at me, her eyes examined me briefly, and I was a bit disarmed by her gaze. Although the color of her and Lance's eyes were different, I was shocked to see that the look--the intense, soul-searching, send-shivers-down-your-spine gaze--was exactly the same.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I just had to ask. It's been bothering me since I found out about you two--I guess I'm just being nosy."

"Don't be sorry. It's natural to be curious--anyways, better that you find out now by asking, instead of just walking in on us, right?" I asked, trying to make the mood a less heavy. There. I had given her an answer without saying yes' or no', although I think I was pretty clear in my response. I watched as the blush returned to her face.

"Right," she sighed as she continued to stare at me. I didn't mind, until a few more seconds passed and I just began to feel uncomfortable with her eyes locked on my every move.

"You really love my brother, don't you?" Stacey abruptly remarked. I looked at her in surprise, a bit taken aback by her direct question. "I mean to come over here and talk to me, when I was so hateful towards him and you. You didn't have to do that at all, but you did."

Now it was my turn to blush. You'd think that after all of those, `I love you's', all of those little moments that Lance and I shared and all of the crap that we had gone though, expressing my feelings about Lance would be easy. Ha! Fat chance. I still felt tongue tied when ever someone asked me how I felt about him. Maybe it was because my thoughts about Lance were so private. I didn't want to share them with anyone else because that would feel like I was violating something between us--something special and different that I had never shared with anyone else before. And I wanted to keep it all to myself. Selfish? Maybe, but at least I was honest.

"I do love Lance, Stacey--more than anyone else I've ever known," I admitted as my voice faded into a whisper. "He's a special person...and he's been there for me--always. I wanted to be there for him when things got rough." I gave her an embarrassed smile. "I know, I sound like a big sappy weirdo, right?"

She shook her head, her blonde hair moving slightly in the dry heat. "No, Stephen," she said, her voice barely audible. I could tell by the glazed over look in her eyes that something I had just said touched her. That was a nice feeling, I thought as she gave me a gentle smile. "I actually thought what you said was wonderful." She shrugged her shoulders. "I guess it shouldn't matter what sex you are--as long as you make my brother happy, that's all that matters. And Stephen--after talking to you, I'm glad that you're the one who's making Lance happy--I really am."

Suddenly I found my vision a little blurred by the tears that had sprang to my eyes. I hadn't expected that Stacey--the one who had screamed at Lance and I, the one who had made us both feel lower than dirt--was now the one who I just wanted to hug.

"Thanks, Stacey," I said, trying to choke back the tears that had suddenly gathered in my throat. "Thank you for understanding."

A little while later, I was back in the Bass household. After saying hello to Jim, and thanking Diane for driving me over to Stacey's, I headed back up the staircase and saw that the door to Lance's room was shut. Walking up to it, I gently knocked on the door, and a sense of deja vu came over me. I realized that I was in this exact same position last night, when I had come to Lance's room in that strange fit of passion. I felt my face turn hot as I heard Lance call out, "Come on in--door's open."

I turned the knob and opened the door to find Lance lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. His arms were rested behind his head, and there was a heartbreakingly sad expression on his face. I shut the door behind me. Lance looked up at me and gave me a forced smile.

"Hey," he said shortly, as he resumed his gaze upon the ceiling. "How're ya doing?"

"I'm doing good," I said, as I took a seat next to him on the bed. I stared at him for a couple of seconds, watching the way he breathed, the way his green eyes flickered as they moved across the ceiling and the way that his eyelashes casted slight shadows under his eyes as he blinked. I noticed his nose--the smallness of it--and moved my gaze lower to his not-too thin-but-just-right lips and thought of the way that they touched mine whenever we kissed. I let out a breath that I hadn't even known I was holding and Lance finally tore his gaze away from the ceiling.

"Sure you're okay, Stephen?" he asked, reaching out to take my hand into his. "You seem a little sad."

"Uh-uh," I said, still mesmerized by the way his features fell into place. And suddenly, lying in front of me wasn't Lance of *NSYNC, it was Lance--just Lance. A person that I happened to fall in love with and who fell in love with me. He could have been anyone off the street, for all I cared. All I cared about at that moment was the fact that we were in love with each other. I would have done anything for the man next to me and I knew that he felt the same way. It was a wonderful feeling--secure, sweet and better than anything else I had felt in my entire life. I wouldn't trade it for anything in the entire world.

"Stephen, you're staring at me," Lance chided gently, reaching up to nudge my chin. "You're creeping me out."

"Oh, like you don't like the attention," I teased him as I swung my legs up onto the bed and laid my body next to his. He wrapped an arm around me and drew me closer to him.

"Never said that," he laughed and kissed me on the nose. "So where were you? When me and dad came back from lunch, I noticed that you and my mom went out somewhere..." He raised a suspicious eyebrow at me, and I couldn't help but giggle a little.

"Nosy aren't you?" I asked, tapping his nose. "Well, if you really want to know, I was at your sister's place."

Lance's face drained of all it's color. "Stacey's? You were at Stacey's? Why would you go there? Didn't she throw you out? I'm surprised you're still in one piece--or that she didn't throw a Bible at you when you walked in."

I let out another carefree laugh, enjoying the worry that was lurking on my boyfriend's face. I liked the fact that I knew there was a happy ending for Lance and Stacey. "We had a nice long talk--no flying Bibles," I told Lance. "In fact, it went really well...Lance....Stacey still loves you."

"What?" Lance's eyebrows nearly flew off his forehead. "That's news to me! After what she said this morning? You're shitting me, Stephen--I don't know why you're lying to me, but I don't like it one bit."

"Lance," I sighed as I wrapped one of my arms around his torso. "I would never lie to you--never. Have I ever lied to you before?" Lance paused thoughtfully and then nodded his head up and down.

"No," he admitted, his deep voice cracking with the word. "You never have."

"So why would I lie about this? I went over to Stacey's house and we talked. I wanted to help you out a little, seeing that she hated me as much as she hated you. And well, let's say that your sister is much prettier when she's not telling us that we're gonna burn in hell," I said, burying my face into the softness of his t-shirt. I could feel the heat of his skin against my face and I inhaled the scent of his skin and cologne mixed together. I felt my heart race and the blood pound through my veins. I reached up and began to stoke the nape of his neck with my thumb.

Lance couldn't help but laugh at that and his face softened at the feel of my touch. "You got a point there," he said before growing silent. "So you really went to talk to my sister? Really?" I looked back at Lance and looked into his eyes. An ebullient smile appeared on those perfect lips of his. It was contagious, I thought as an equally goofy smile appeared on my lips as well. I loved to see him happy...the way his eyes lit up and that little dimple appeared in the corner of his mouth.

"Really--and I hope you're in the mood to go out tonight--because Stacey and Ford are coming over later on to take us both out for dinner," I told him, as I removed my hand from his neck and took my hand into his. I laced my fingers through his and looked back at him. The expression on his face was incredible...undescribable...and I wished I had a camera there to take a picture of Lance because I've never seen him look so beautiful in my life.

"I can't believe you went to talk to her," Lance whispered in disbelief. "I can't....you did that for me...even though she yelled at us...you went there..."

"Yup," I said modestly, suddenly feeling embarrassed by what I had done. I hadn't expected Lance to be so floored by my actions, but he was..."I did. Just for you."

Lance stared at me for a couple more seconds before leaning over and placing a soft kiss on my lips. We parted and stared into each others eyes. And then we leaned forward and kissed again, more passionately than the first time. After we parted, I stared at his mouth, noticing the shine on his lips from our kiss... "Thank you Stephen..." Lance breathed. "You don't know how grateful I am to you. For what you did for me. How can I ever repay you?"

A gentle laugh escaped my throat as I rested my forehead against his. "By just being with me," I sighed before pressing my lips to his once more. I allowed them to linger, until I felt the tip of his tongue pry open my mouth. I felt him gently suck on my tongue for a few seconds, until we had to stop. Things were happening. A little more kissing and we would have been doing more than just lying in each other's arms.

"I want you to know I'd do anything for you, Lance," I said, suddenly feeling embarrassed by how mushy I felt inside. I had been reduced to jello inside by Lance's kiss. I felt different again--like this Stacey fiasco was another one of God's tests--and we had passed this one with flying colors.

"Anything?" Lance asked with a smirk on his handsome face, as he began to trace the outline of my face with his fingertip. He traced my eyebrows, my nose...I closed my eyes as he gently traced around my eyes and back down to my lips. When I opened them back up, I found Lance just staring at me, looking overwhelmed with the feelings that were running through him. I just smiled at my boyfriend and for some reason, I knew how he felt inside...because I felt the same way.

"Anything," I whispered back finally answering his question. But I think he forgot what I was answering to as I disentangled my hand from his and reached up to trace a path on his face. And since I couldn't say another word, I just leaned over again and kissed Lance, content by the feelings that were swimming around in my heart.

**** And this is where this chapter ends, people. Hope you liked it, hope you liked the ending of the Stacey fiasco...ummm...not much else to say, except, e-mail: sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com. Hope to get the next chapter out ASAP....Thank you and good night. I love you all.