Bird in the Hand

by Karen and LB
© 2002

The night air is crisp and cool, Lance's belly is full, and he's with his four best friends. Life is good. As they walk back to the hotel (at Lance's insistence after the big meal) with bodyguards in tow, Lance is already thinking ahead to the next day. Another day off between shows--a chance to kick back, do something fun, something mindless like hit an amusement park. They're almost at the walkway to the hotel's entrance when Lance spots it first--a small object, moving, flapping, and the almost inaudible chirping noise above the din of laughter and shouting coming from his bandmates around him. Curious, Lance walks over to the bushes to investigate.

"Dude, where you going? If you have to take a leak, we're almost home," announces Joey.

Lance ignores him. Because when he crouches down and sees what caught his eye his voice catches. A tiny bird, its wing broken, struggles beside the bush, flapping helplessly on the ground.

When the others gather around, Justin orders, "Aw, man, leave it. There's nothing you can do."

"I can't just leave it. It'll die out here."

"You can't take it inside."

"Yes, I can," Lance replies stubbornly, stripping off his sweatshirt and wrapping the wounded creature inside. "Shhh, it'll be okay." He's not sure why this bothers him so much, but he knows if he walks away he'll feel guilty all night.

"You're crazy, man."

JC steps closer and peers at the small, frightened creature. "Aw, it's so tiny, Lance. It's not gonna sur--" He breaks off at Lance's stricken expression. "C'mon, I'll help you."

"You're both nuts," Chris proclaims.

"I'm just glad we're not sharing rooms anymore," Joey adds.

At first, Lance is surprised by JC's willingness to step in, but then he remembers who he's looking at. JC has always been more sensitive than the other guys, and since Lance really doesn't know what he's doing he's glad to have at least a little support. "Me too," Lance replies. "You'd probably want to barbecue it."

Joey just shakes his head and holds the door open. Even Lonnie and the other guards smile as though humoring a five-year-old. Lance cradles the bird in his arms as they head to the elevator, never taking his eyes off it. "I should put it in something."

"You should put it in the garbage," Joey is quick to answer.

Lance ignores him. He knows the guys are right, that it's silly to try to take care of this little bird, but something about seeing it flapping around on the ground pulled at his heartstrings.

JC glares at Joey. "I have a box in my room that should be about the right size. I'll bring it over in a few."

"Thanks." Despite his concern for the animal, Lance is grateful for JC's generosity.

"I don't know about you, but I'm up for a movie," says Joey.

"Yeah, me too," Justin agrees.

Chris punches his younger bandmate lightly. "I'm in. C?" he calls after JC, who is already heading down the hall.

"Nah., I'm gonna hang with Lance for a while," JC says, letting himself into his room. He locates the box in which he'd had some new shoes delivered, then decides to change into some sweats. He has a feeling this is gonna be a long night. As he reaches for the box and his key, he notices a t-shirt he had tossed aside earlier today when he saw it was ripped. He takes that as well and heads over to Lance's room, where he knocks on the door, then waits.

Lance is sitting on the bed with the bird still in the sweatshirt, and he's reluctant to leave it when he hears the knock, but he quickly trots to the door to let JC in. "Hey. You don't have to stay, you know."

"It's fine. I used to do stuff like this when I was a kid. How's the little guy doing?" JC sits on the bed and begins ripping at the soft fabric of the shirt.

"Not too good. I called my friend Paul back home--he knows a lot about animals--and he said there's not much we can do." Lance sits on the bed and places the shoebox on the bedspread.

"We could probably try to get him to drink something. You want me to call down and see if the drugstore has eyedroppers?"

"Could you?" Lance watches JC, amazed at how serious he's being about this when the other guys treated it like a big joke.

"Sure. And some tongue depressors, in case we decide to try to make a splint." JC's actually getting excited about this, like a little kid. He stands up, dropping the shredded strands of his t-shirt into the box. "See how he likes that," he says, and heads for the phone.

Something about the way JC takes action is infectious. Lance studiously rips apart the remainder of the shirt and carefully arranges the strips in the box, then lifts the bird as gently as he can and places it in the center. He can tell the bird is terrified by the way its chest rises and falls with each frantic breath. "It's okay," he says calmly. "We're not gonna hurt you."

JC, still on the phone, watches. He's fascinated at how Lance's hands can be so strong and so gentle at the same time, at the way the terrified chirps calm in response to the low, soothing voice. JC hangs up the phone. "They're sending the stuff up. If we can get him to drink, I'll get room service to send up some bread."

Lance looks up, hands remaining on the box. "You're good at this, you know?"

"You too. Look how calm he is with you. If I tried to touch him, he'd be pecking me."

"Nah--look, I think he's just in shock."

"That's cause he looked at the room rates on his way through the lobby."

For the first time since he found the bird, Lance smiles. But his smile quickly disappears when he looks back down at the bird. "He's not gonna make, is he?"

"Probably not," JC says quietly. "But that's no reason not to try." Satisfied with that answer, Lance nods. He stays quiet until a knock from the door breaks his trance.

JC goes to the door and quickly signs for the bag of drugstore merchandise, carefully blocking Lance's little illegal guest from view. He brings the bag over to the bed and they sort through the contents, looking for the eyedropper.

Lance takes it to the bathroom and fills it with water, then brings it back to the bed. He sits beside the shoebox, one leg bent, the other straight out, and uses the fingers of one hand to gently turn the bird's head. With a rock-steady hand, he lets a few drops of water fall into the bird's beak, waiting for any sign of discomfort from the creature.

"Good. I think he's swallowing. Yeah," JC's excited that their ministrations are so far successful, but he keeps his voice quiet so as not to startle the frightened little thing.

"Do you think it's too cold in here? Should I turn up the heat?"

"No, but it's kind of bright. Maybe he'd rest a little if it was dimmer."

"That's a good idea." Lance hops off the bed and turns off the overhead light and several lamps, leaving only a few lamps lit in the corners of the room. He settles back on the bed, stretching out next to the box. "Poor thing. I wish I could do more."

JC stretches out on the other side of the box. "We'll see how he does with the water. Maybe we can get him to eat something later."

"Maybe." Lance strokes the bird hypnotically, hoping to at least lull it to sleep. He hopes that if the bird sleeps it will heal some.

"You think I should look on the Internet and see if I can find instructions for splinting a bird's wing?"

Lance perks up. "Yeah, that is a great idea. There must be something. They have everything else on the Internet."

"Okay. Can you get me logged in, and I'll take a look?"

"Yeah, sure." Lance gives the bird one more reassuring stroke and goes over to the desk where he left his laptop. He quickly logs into AOL and opens the browser. Then he switches places with JC, giving up his seat. "Where you gonna look?"

"I'll just do a search. 'bird wing splint...' Something like that."

Lance has to chuckle at the absurdity of that statement. "Bird wing splint? Good thing it wasn't you on Millionaire."

"Hey, I can leave if you're going to go all Regis on me. I'm constructing a web search, not writing poetry."

"Sorry. I know you're trying to help and I do appreciate it. So let's try it."

"You got it." JC types, frowns at the screen, adds "how to" and some plus marks. "Here we go." He reads a little and looks up. "Okay, according to this, no splint. You put the wing against his body and wrap him up with cloth. We can use the gauze, I guess. Or rip up another shirt."

Before JC finishes reading, Lance is at his bag, rummaging around for a soft t-shirt. He doesn't even look to see what it says, just begins to tear it into strips. Hovering over the box, he gingerly moves the bird so that he can wrap the bandage as JC instructed. The bird continues to chirp but allows Lance to manipulate it. "Is that all it says? I hope I did this right."

"That's all it said." JC says, still staring. "I can't believe he just let you do that. If I tried, he'd have bitten me."

"No, he wouldn't. Come here, he's real quiet now." JC goes back over to the bed, sitting and looking down into the box. Lance is right. The little creature is quieter, calmer, blinking up at JC with one small black eye. "Hey, little guy," JC coos, reaching in with one finger, then pulling quickly back with a laugh when the bird takes a good peck at him.

Lance smiles up at JC. "I guess he's awake."

"I guess so. But that's a good sign."

"Are you okay?" Lance leans over to inspect JC's finger.

"Of course I am. Besides, we have enough medical supplies here to deal with a real crisis."

Lance glances around. JC is right. With all the medical paraphernalia strewn on the bedspread, anyone walking in would think they'd just stepped into an emergency unit. "I'm acting crazy."

"No. You're acting...caring."

That seems to satisfy Lance, because he grows quiet again. "You don't have to stay. You've really helped a lot already."

"Do you want me to go?"

"No, I like the company. I just don't want to keep you up."

"I'm okay." JC stretches out again next to the box and risks life and limb to reach in and pull some of the soft fabric over the bird to keep him warm.

"Hey," Lance says in amazement. "I think he likes you."

"He heard me talking about bread before, so he wants to stay on my good side."

"He's just using you for food? He must be related to Joey."

JC looks at the bird critically. "There is sort of a resemblance."

"When he gets better, we'll see if he does the hammy dance." Lance's smile vanishes. He knows that it's unlikely the bird will live.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. I just hope he'll be okay."

"You should lie down, too. You look exhausted."

"I'm fine. Really. I can't sleep right now anyway. I just want to know he's okay. It's so much easier taking care of a dog."

"You don't have to sleep. Just lie down. See? Even he's resting," JC says, indicating their small patient.

JC is right. The bird had grown quiet, its chest still rising and falling rapidly. There was nothing more he could do. Lance flops onto his back, staring at the ceiling. "When I was little, I used to bring my mom bugs and stuff."

"I bet she loved that."

"She was probably freaking inside, but she acted all cool, like I was giving her a diamond ring or something. I wish she was here now."

"You're doing great. Should we try to get him to drink a little more?"

Lance sits up. "Yeah. Hand me the eyedropper." JC lifts it from the nightstand and passes it to Lance. He helps lift the bird's head so Lance can drop some water into its mouth. "He doesn't seem to want any," Lance says sadly.

"Come on, little one," JC whispers.

"Maybe if you sing to it."

"What do you sing to a bird?" JC pauses, then sings, softly:

Blackbird singing in the dead of night Take these broken wings and learn to fly All your life You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

Lance lies back again, hands behind his head. Since the day he met JC, Lance has been in awe of his bandmate's voice. Each note sung perfectly. And now, with JC singing so softly, Lance closes his eyes and is lulled to sleep.

Still singing lightly, JC goes to the closet and pulls out the extra blanket, spreading it over Lance. "Looks like it's just you and me, kid," he murmurs to the small bird, as he manages to give him a bit of water. Then he lies down himself, humming almost inaudibly.

*****

The first rays of light hit Lance, and he opens his eyes to the brightness of the room. Sometime during the night he acquired a blanket, and that's when he looks across the bed and sees JC stretched out, sound asleep. JC stayed with him all night. Because of the bird. Lance sits up suddenly, aware of how quiet the room is. It's dawn, and the bird should be awake by now. Should be, but isn't. When Lance peers into the box he sees the bird, wrapped in the shreds of a torn t-shirt, still, breathless, and very, very dead. Lance's heart sinks as he prods the bird gently, on the off chance that it's sleeping. It's stiff to the touch. Lance sighs and holds the box in his lap.

At Lance's movement, JC stirs, trying to turn away from the light. He has trouble, though, because he's lying half across the bed and there's something in his way. His eyes flicker open and he sees Lance, sitting very still. "Lance? What's go-- Oh," he finally says, as he remembers.

"It's dead, JC."

JC sits up. "I'm sorry, Lance."

"I wish I could have done something."

"You did. There wasn't much you COULD've done, but you made sure he was safe, and warm, and cared for. No one else gave a damn. You did."

"He was so scared."

"And you helped him be less scared."

Lance sniffs and looks over at JC. "Thanks for staying."

JC puts an arm around Lance's shoulder. "No problem. I wanted to."

Wiping his eyes, Lance forces a laugh. "Yeah, I bet it's real fun watching a bird die."

JC squeezes Lance's shoulder. "I didn't say it was fun. But I wouldn't have wanted you to have to do it alone. Should we, um, take him outside?" JC gets up and looks out the window. "It's still pretty dark under the trees. We'll just be really quiet."

Lance puts the lid on the box. "Let's do it."

"Okay." They leave the room, walking down the quiet hallway. JC pauses to take a spoon from someone's discarded room service tray. "In case we want to dig and stuff like that."

Lance cradles the box in his arms, telling himself it's only a bird, it's only a bird. But it's dead and that makes him sad no matter what he tries to tell himself. It's never going to fly again. It's never going to sing again.

They manage to slip out unnoticed--at this early hour even the fans are asleep. They find a tree at the side of the hotel that is blocked from view, and Lance crouches beside it, taking the spoon from JC's hand. He quietly digs a hole big enough for the box, then places the box in the hole and covers it up. For a moment he stays there, just staring at the dirt.

JC watches Lance thoughtfully. He's not quite as wrapped up in this as Lance is, but he certainly sympathizes. He puts a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder.

It's the touch that brings him back. It's so comforting--JC is the perfect person to be around right now. Lance doesn't have to pretend, doesn't have to listen to jokes or be teased. He can just...be. Without thinking about it, Lance covers the hand with his own.

JC reaches out with his other hand and pulls Lance into a hug, murmuring "it's okay" and other nonsense.

Lance allows JC to hold him--in fact, it feels good. Really good. Funny. He never noticed that before. It's not like JC has never hugged him before, but it's like something is awakening inside him...He pulls back, wiping his eyes and smiling, embarrassed. "I'm acting like a baby."

"Shhh." Without the slightest hesitation, JC pulls Lance back to him and kisses away three teardrops.

The thing that surprises Lance most is that he's NOT pushing JC away. JC is kissing his face and he's LETTING him. And before he knows what he's doing, Lance moves his head so that his lips meet JC's.

JC had never expected Lance to respond like this. But he had never expected to be kissing Lance, either. And it feels absolutely right as their lips meet again and again.

Finally, Lance does put his hands on JC's chest and gently pulls back. "What are we doing?"

JC moistens his lips. "I...I don't know. But it feels awfully good."

Lance doesn't make an effort to move away, but he still can't believe this is happening. "It does. But we've never done this before."

JC smiles. "We've never spent a night together like this, either."

"That sounds so saucy."

JC blushes. "I didn't mean it that way."

"How did you mean it?"

"In a not-saucy way."

"I've never kissed you before."

"I know. I was there when you didn't kiss me." JC smiles sheepishly. "Okay, bad. But honestly, I've never felt as close to you as I do right now. Kissing you just felt...natural."

"I've never kissed a guy before. But it felt good. This is crazy."

"What's crazy is us standing out here when we could be in our nice warm hotel."

Nervous about being alone with JC after what just happened, Lance hesitates. "Okay. Yeah, sure. Before Dre or Lonnie finds out."

"Yeah, 'cause they won't let us go out and play today."

"Wanna play?"

"Later. Now I want to sleep. With you. And I mean THAT in a not saucy way, too."

"You mean in the same bed?"

"Yeah. I want to be close to you. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, I guess. If it doesn't freak you out."

"If it was gonna freak me out, why would I have suggested it?" JC asks as they move quietly to the door.

"I don't know. I don't know about anything anymore."

"Sleep is good for that." They manage to get into the hotel and back to Lance's room without being detected.

"You think sleep is good for everything."

"It is. And we didn't get much."

"No." And Lance remembers why as he sits on the edge of the bed and kicks off his shoes. For the first time, he notices the dirt on his hands from digging the hole. "What a weird night."

"Yeah. And sad," JC says, taking one of Lance's dirt-speckled hands in his own.

"I'm getting you dirty."

"Oh, well. You'll let me use your soap, right?"

"Of course. You can use anything you want."

"Now, THAT sounds saucy."

"It's true. We've known each other how long?"

"Feels like forever," JC says, leaning in for a quick, soft kiss.

Lance licks his lips, still tasting JC. "How come we never kissed before?" Lance asks on his way to the bathroom.

"Too blind to see what's right in front of me?"

At that moment, Lance is looking in the bathroom mirror. "Me?"

"You."

Lance diligently scrubs the dirt from his fingernails and watches as it disappears down the drain. After brushing his teeth, he emerges from the bathroom running a hand through his hair. "All yours."

"Thanks," JC says, passing Lance on the way in. When he returns, he realizes he's nervous. No reason, he thinks. We're just gonna sleep.

Lance strips off his pants, revealing his black boxers, and leaves on his t-shirt. JC has seen him undressed hundreds of times, but now Lance feels self-conscious about his body. He pulls down the bedspread and crawls between the sheets, marveling at how strange this all is, how he never even protested when JC suggested sleeping together in Lance's room.

JC toes off his sneakers and pulls off his socks, then slips under the covers in his sweats, still chilled by their early morning expedition. He looks over at Lance, smiling. "I'd like to hold you. Is that okay?"

Lance nods, unable to speak, then curls up on his side against JC.

JC gathers Lance closer, then reaches over to put out the remaining light. "Long night, huh? But this feels good."

"Mmm. Yeah, it does. It really does." Lance surprises even himself. JC's body is so warm and comforting, and having him so close is making Lance feel things he's never felt before with a guy.

JC kisses Lance's forehead, then settles more comfortably against his pillow. "Good night, Lance. Or good morning."

"Good morning," Lance mumbles. Before falling asleep once again.

It's the shrill ringing of the phone that awakens Lance. Wake-up call? On their day off? Then he checks the clock. Noon. As he reaches for the phone across the bed, he sees JC still sleeping. JC. IN HIS BED. Then he remembers. Everything. The bird, the kiss, the bed. He moves carefully, afraid to wake the sleeping figure, afraid to end the magic. Afraid that if JC does wake up he'll realize where he is and run as fast as he can from this room. And JC can run FAST. Somehow, Lance manages to grab the phone, and since it's a cordless quietly moves from the bed and retreats to a chair across the room. "Hello?" he whispers.

"Dude, it's noon. Were you still sleeping?"

Joey's voice comes through loud and clear, and Lance pulls the phone away from his ear.

"Yeah. Didn't sleep much last night. What's up?"

"Why are you whispering?"

"Am I? Oh, a little sore throat." Lance clears his throat then, hoping Joey will buy it.

"Have some tea. We want to hit Busch Gardens. You in?"

"Yeah. Sure." Maybe that's just what he needs. What they both need, Lance thinks, as he gazes over at JC. A day of fun. A day to just hang and be kids again. "Give u--me a half hour."

"Okay. I tried calling JC but there's no answer. He must be in the shower. Can you grab him?"

"Sure." Lance smiles at the thought, then pushes that away. What am I doing? He hangs up the phone, then remains in the chair watching as JC's chest rises and falls with each sleepy breath.

JC stirs and turns over, burying his head against the pillow, feeling the pull of the day and trying hard to escape it.

Lance smiles. He's never really watched JC sleep, except occasionally on the bus or a plane. Not like this. Not with him all stretched out. He sits quietly for a few more minutes, then heads to the bathroom to shower and give JC that much more time in dreamland.

JC finally gives up the struggle and reluctantly opens his eyes. And is utterly confused. The shower is running, the clock is not where he expected it to be, and the possessions scattered about are not his. Suddenly, the night before comes flooding back. Lance's room. Lance. He looks toward the bathroom door. Lance.

Humming softly, Lance reviews the night's events as he often does when he's trying to work out a problem. Logically, methodically--only this isn't a logical situation. It's the most completely illogical thing that could happen. Hooking up with your bandmate? A guy? Lance hadn't even realized he had those feelings until last night. Sure, every now and then, over the years, he'd catch himself checking out some guy, maybe even thinking about kissing someone--kissing JC. But he'd always, ALWAYS, pushed those thoughts down. Why now? Why did they both do what they did? And why does it feel so right? As he steps out of the large shower stall and towels off, he once again feels that nervous adrenalin rush. Maybe JC is gone by now. Maybe he went back to his room and is pretending this never happened.

JC does the only thing he CAN do in this situation. He orders room service.

When Lance hears JC voice coming from the next room, he first breathes a sigh of relief, then cracks the door. He sees JC on the phone. Curious, he opens the door a little more, wrapped in the soft velour robe provided by the hotel, and hears JC ordering room service. "Don't forget the bacon," he calls out.

JC grins. "Would I forget your bacon?"

Lance blushes. "Uh, no, I hope not." He heads over to where he's left his bags and locates a pair of clean boxer-briefs. Lance has never been totally comfortable changing in front of people, even though he's done it hundreds of times before in front of JC and the other guys. But now, he slips on the shorts under his robe and only when he feels covered does he drop the robe as he searches for a clean shirt and pants.

"Um, look," says JC. "I don't have any clean clothes here. Or my toothbrush or stuff like that. So I'm just gonna go next door and shower and change, okay? I'll be back before room service comes."

"Okay. But hurry. The guys want to go to Busch Gardens. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, that sounds great. Okay, I'll hurry, but if I don't beat room service back, leave me some bacon, you got that?"

"I might," replies Lance, with a wicked grin.

"You're so cute," JC replies, ducking out the door. He takes a very quick shower and barely fusses with his hair at ALL before pulling on jeans and a white turtleneck. He arrives at Lance's door at the same time as the room service waiter.

"Good timing," Lance announces, as the cart of food is wheeled in and led to the windows. Lance signs the bill and gives the waiter a tip, and then hungrily digs in. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until the food arrived.

"Hungry, Lance?" JC says as he sips coffee before reaching for his own fork.

"Starving. Aren't you?"

"Yep." JC manages to smile around a mouthful of pancakes without being gross. "How's the french toast?"

"They make it pretty good here--" Lance stops, just as he's about to take another bite. "You ordered me french toast."

"Yeah? Lance, in case you haven't noticed, every teenie with a pulse knows you like french toast. I'm, um, I'm one of your best friends."

"I never thought you noticed."

"Duh. Man, you must think I'm stupid."

"Not at all. You're one of the smartest people I know."

"And you're one of the . . . best people I know."

"Aw, shucks, C. Finish your breakfast. We gotta get moving."

"I'm done. When are we supposed to meet the guys?"

Lance stares at his own plate. He's always the last to finish. He's relieved to know that even though something major has changed between him and JC, the little things haven't. He glances at the clock. "Like, now. We better get going before someone comes down here and wonders what you're doing here."

"Um, having breakfast? It's not like we've never had breakfast in someone else's room."

"Am I being paranoid?"

"Maybe a little. Depends . . . "

"On what?"

"On, um, whether you want to pretend that last night never happened?"

Lance puts his fork down. His leg bounces against his chair and he looks at the table when he speaks. "But it did happen."

JC smiles. "Yeah, it did. I was kind of worried you'd wake up this morning and be like 'What did I DO?' "

"Well, I was kind of like that, but then I realized what I did was a good thing."

"You really think so?"

"You don't?"

"Are you kidding? All I want to know is, what took us so long?"

Lance's face lights up. "I don't know. I guess I never realized I felt this way. It's crazy!"

"Maybe a little. But good crazy. Real good."

"So what do we do? Am I supposed to ask you out or something? Or are you supposed to ask me out?"

"We can take turns."

As Lance pushes away from the table to finish getting ready, a thought occurs to him. What about Bobbie? But he doesn't say it because he doesn't want to ruin the moment. He has a feeling it's going to be a good day, and after last night Lance could use one.

JC sees the cloud pass over Lance's face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Guess I'm still a little down about that bird."

"You sure?" JC persists.

"Yeah, it's nothing, really. I just want to have some fun and forget about everything for a while. I mean, not you--everything else."

"Yeah, that sounds good. But you know you can tell me when something's bothering you and stuff like that, right?"

"Sure. I will. If something's bothering me. But nothing is. Everything's fine. Really. C'mon, we're gonna miss our ride. But just one more thing."

"Yeah?"

Lance walks over to JC, puts his hands on JC's face, and kisses him. It's a long kiss, but Lance breaks it and steps away. "Just that."

"Oh. That." JC smiles "I suppose I'd be pushing it to ask you to repeat yourself."

Lance is usually pretty shy around girls, and even though he's known JC for years he suddenly feels shy around HIM. Maybe because he's discovering that he really does like JC, in more ways than just friendship. "No." Lance takes a quiet breath and a step forward and his mouth is on JC's once again.

"WOW," is all JC can manage when they again separate. Then he steps back. "We better go before I can't."

This causes Lance to blush. JC did not just say that. His bandmate? Horny? Lance has the urge to change; it's gotten very hot in here, and he too is anxious to leave before things go any further. "Oh . . . oh my goodness. That would be . . . we should go." Lance retrieves his phone and sunglasses from the nightstand and claps JC on the back. "I think you need to get wet."

JC smirks. "Wet?"

Lance nods. "You're going on a water ride, JC. You need to cool off."

"Let's go out and play."

And that's exactly what they do. Lance is a little paranoid being around his other friends, but no one seems to notice anything out of the ordinary. Because they are who they are, they're allowed to interact with the baby animals at the safari. This is Lance's favorite part of the day. Being with JC and playing with baby animals. It's like they're kids again.

JC enjoys watching Lance with the animals. He's as gentle with each as he had been with the injured little bird, but without the touch of sorrow that he'd carried when dealing with the small creature. Lance is in his element here, and he doesn't even seem upset when the other guys tease him about birds.

Lance hasn't had this much fun in days. At times like this, he can forget about anything weighing on his mind. Well, in this case almost anything, because with JC beside him he can't help think about waking up in his arms and how wonderful that felt.

The other guys continue being way more annoying than usual. "Look, that gazelle is limping, aren't you gonna pull the thorn out of his paw?"

"Hey Lance, I think that giraffe's neck is crooked, wanna straighten it out?"

"Dude, that zebra needs a backrub."

Lance ignores them all, until he spots a rather rambunctious tiger cub. "Hey, Chris, I think he wants to give you a kiss."

"No WAY," Chris says, backing away.

"Aw, he's just a baby," Joey adds. "Grrr."

JC and Lance walk away. "They're so easy to distract."

"They can make fun of me all they want. I'd do it all over again."

"Me too. And not just because of this morning."

"I really appreciate you being there. I hate to watch anything die."

"I know. But don't think about it too much. You did everything possible. I really admire you for doing it, too."

"You know what we need? Cotton candy. We really need some cotton candy right now."

"Oh, absolutely. I don't know how we've gone so long without."

"We've been depriving ourselves. This cannot be a good thing."

"Nope. I'll even buy you some cotton candy, since I've neglected your needs."

Lance takes a step backward. "You're going to buy ME cotton candy? JC Chasez is going to buy ME something? Wow, this is serious."

"Don't get too used to it," JC growls, but he's smiling as he leads Lance over to the cotton candy vendor.

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