"We're taking it back to 1999 with a little ditty that ransacked the airwaves day in and out for months at a time. Here's Blaque featuring JC Chasez with 'Bring It All To Me' here on HOT! 109."

She smirked, reaching blindly over to her radio and turning the knob, volume raising drastically as the music began to pound into her ears, she nodding her head along to the beat of the music as she continued slicing the object at hand. The words were sung along to softly, a smile forming on her face as she thought about that year. 1999. That was the year she had actually met JC Chasez. The year he decided he would turn her world upside down and bring her into his own. It was actually at the radio station she had originally worked in that had brought him in as a guest host to premiere the song, the click between them immediately.

"I can't believe you're listening to this," a voice said with a slight tease, quickly adding, "is that chip dip? Oh, what are we watching tonight?"

"Why wouldn't I listen to this," she asked, not even turning around, though trying to calm her racing heart at the voice that startled her. "And do you not knock?"

"Because it's nearly ten-years-old and completely outdated. Timbs? Thug appeal? C'mon, now. And I never have to knock. You said so."

She scoffed, turning to look at him as she pushed herself away from the counter, putting the paring knife into the dishwasher. "I still happen to like it, so hush." She returned back to the counter where she began to mix ingredients, ignoring his presence behind her as she continued to sing softly to herself, the wide grin forming on her face as she heard his voice filter through the room, from the radio and the man standing behind her. "Yeah, I can't believe I'm listening to this."

"All right, so it's catchy, sorry." He stepped up beside her, planting a wet kiss to her cheek as she grinned, bringing her gaze up to look at him. "Miss me while you were away?"

"Probably not as much as you missed me," he teased, reaching across her and into the small candy dish that she kept her latest addiction, Hershey Kisses, in. "'Course I did. Who else would I let beat me at a game of Scene It?"

"Let?" She scoffed, reaching for the mixer as he pushed her away, settling himself in front of the mixing bowl and turning the mixer on, combining all the ingredients. "That's just how a sore loser would put it."

"And a poor loser would go into denial."

She chuckled, sitting down at the kitchen table and watched him as he continued mixing, the quiet falling between them comfortable. Reaching forward and grabbing the hair tie that she had wrapped around her cell phone on the table, she put her hair up messily, tucking a piece of hair that had already fallen out behind her ear. "So how was it? How as London?"

"Same," he shrugged, "wet, busy. The usual."

"In October," she asked, eyebrow raised. "No snow?"

"In October," he reiterated. "It's a little early for snow anywhere, anyway. I'd probably boycott mother nature if snow fell in early October."

"It has happened."

"And I don't recall it, so she can slide for now," he grinned, tossing a glance over his shoulder at her as she smiled back. "So what are the plans for this afternoon? Rest before the big Halloween bash on the roof?"

She nodded. "Gotta prepare. With you as a friend and Lacey, Tank and Penny as the party coordinators, I won't be in bed until I'm usually up."

"What, noon?"

She chuckled, giving him a shrug. "The wonders of working from home," she grinned, looking over at her laptop that she hadn't even touched the entire day. "A weblog here, responses from clients there. It's a wonder that I even get paid for it."

"Must be nice."

"Ah yes, my grandfather is beaming down from Heaven at how proud he is."

"As he should be." He set the mixer down, groaning inwardly as he music begin, turning to see the grin on her face slowly form as he shook his head. "I hate this song."

"Boy, for a musician, you hate a lot of music," she remarked, "Danity Kane doesn't do it for you?"

"Not after the upteenth time of hearing this song today," he murmured, watching as she got up, taking the mixing wisks and putting them into the dishwasher with the knife, wrapping the cord around the mixer itself and putting it away. "I swear, if you begin to serenade me, I'm gonna throw you out your balcony window."

"Whatever," she smirked, walking towards her cupboard and pulling out a bag of chips. "Hey, Jace?"

He blinked back random thoughts, looking at her. "What?"

"Do you got a first aid kit handy?"

"Why did you cut your hand?!" He turned quickly, looking over at her as she kept a serious look on her face. "Nat -"

"Do you know how to patch up a wound?"

He opened his mouth to speak, realizing what she had been doing. "I honestly hate you. I don't really remember why I thought you were a good person to hang out with."

"Ah, because I am the light of your life, and without me, it'd be dark."

"You really should drop the day job and become a comedienne; really, you'd be great at it."

"You'd die from laughter. Actually, I don't know why you haven't yet with my side-splitting humor." She turned off the radio, gesturing for him to go into the next room with her, waiting for his response.

"Probably the same reason that you aren't goo at my feet; not possible." He gave her a wink as he picked up the bowl of dip, following her into the living room. "So really, what are we watching?"

"We? Well, I don't know about you, but I'm watching 'Beaches'."

"Ha, good joke. Really, what movie?"

She sat down, placing the chips on the coffee table next to her as she wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, snuggling into the corner of the leather couch. Reaching forward and grabbing both the chips and the remote, she hit play and gave him a smug expression when the opening menu of the said movie illuminated the screen. Ignoring his rolling of the eyes, she patted the seat next to her. "Either you come sit down and share that dip with me or you can give me the dip and just stand there."

With a dramatic, sigh, he crossed the threshold and plopped down onto the couch next to her, resting his head on the back. "Why this movie?"

"Because seeing you whine and complain during the first half of it and then try to mask the teary-eyes you get when the real chick stuff happens between the two friends completes my life."

"I have never cried watching this movie."

"I'll let you believe that," she smiled, reaching into his lap and taking the dip, setting it on the pillow she had resting in her lap. When he gave her a shocked look, she gave him a knowing one, "hey, I made the dip, I hold it."

He smiled, shaking his head as he heard the opening credits, unable to help himself as he hummed along to the words of 'Under the Boardwalk'. "You know, it's a pretty sad thing when I can sing one of Bette Midler's cover songs, knowing nearly every word because I've seen this movie more times than I've sold an album."

"You're a closet Bette fan, don't deny it," Natalie grinned, gaze never tearing from the screen. "You're like Jack from Will and Grace: If I could turn back tiiiiiooooommmmee ..."

"If you're insinuating I'm gay, I might have to smack you," he chuckled, stealing a chip and swiping it through the dip. After chewing, he looked at her with a sudden interest. "Hey, you never told me what you're going dressed up as."

"Bette Midler," she deadpanned, looking at him from the corner of her eye as he rolled his. "Can't tell you. It's supposed to be a masquerade-type Halloween party. No one is supposed to know who anyone is."

"That's just asking for trouble; Penny realizes this, right? I can only imagine it was her idea."

"Actually, Tank's," she corrected. "I like the idea. You can make an ass out of yourself and no one will realize it's you. That's the beauty in wearing a mask."

"I suppose," he shrugged, "some could give themselves a whole new persona and nobody would know."

"That's the beauty of having a mask," she said, nodding. "Now, shut up or leave, I'm watching the movie."

He grinned, reaching forward and poking her side before making himself more comfortable. He may have hated the movie, but he loved the company much more.

She walked over to the table, seeing everything labeled with gory names: bloody vodka shots, brain salad, gut punch, pus shots. The bloody and pus shots were jello of red and green origin and seemed to be the only two things that she'd touch that night without being intoxicated, and intoxication was the next thing on her list.

She grabbed the bloody vodka (cherry) and downed it quickly, the pus (green) following shortly after. She already felt better about herself with two shots down in her system, smirking when she saw nearly everybody on the dance floor. "All right, now, where's Jace," she asked herself. If there was one thing that anybody knew about JC Chasez, it was that no matter how hard he tried, everybody knew who he was, regardless if he wore a bag over his entire body and disguised his voice. The way he carried himself, the way he handled the environment and situations around him were only things he'd do, things that people noticed quickly. And, the fact that he was always smiling. If he wasn't smiling, the distinguished, almost giggle that escaped his mouth as he laughed would make him stick out like a sore thumb.

And yet, he was nowhere in sight.

A man brushed passed her, holding a bottle of Bud Light in his hand. "Hey!" She grabbed his wrist, stopping him. "Where'd you get that?"

"The casket cooler," he said, turning and pointing towards where the smaller collection of people had gone. Success. If JC wasn't at the dance floor, he was at the cooler, getting his drink on. Squeezing her way through to the cooler, she reached down and took a bottle by the neck, popping the top off and putting it to her lips, she looking from side to side slowly, trying to make out his face beneath mask upon mask. He was not there.

She had been there about two hours, the feel of the alcohol running through her system making her feel light and unlike herself. JC had not made an appearance and it was beginning to annoy her. He had said he was coming, right? He was going to come and keep her company so that she didn't have to be there alone, and yet, he was nowhere to be seen.

"Hi, witchy lady."

She turned with a half-smile, expecting it to be JC. When it wasn't the smile slowly faltered, but grew as she took in the man dressed as a Pirate stood before her, only half his face evident. "Hey, matey."

He chuckled in front of her, eyes beneath a mask but not hidden to where she didn't take notice of him taking in her attire. "Anyone ever tell you that you make witches sexy?"

"Not today," she smirked, "anyone tell you I'd walk the plank if you were the one I was jumping on?" She felt the red creep on her cheeks as she realized what she had said, the alcohol doing wonders for her word vomit as she smirked anyway. It was one night of flirting with someone who was a complete stranger for the night; no one had to know.

"Well, I do have a stiff board."

She forced a grin, holding back the groan of disgust bubbling in her chest. Even with the amount of alcohol in her system, that was not a turn-on.

"Care to ride my broom?"

She opened her mouth to speak, eyes wandering around the rooftop and settling on a man leaning up against the makeshift wall, seemingly bored and slightly intoxicated himself, just by the way he was swaying in his stance. "I see my friend over there," she said, lifting her hand and pointing blindly to him. "I've gotta go. Nice talking to ...you, whoeveryouare."

"But I -"

She took an unsteady step on her stilletto, taking in the man as he looked over, gaze catching hers. He had a full mask, one that was cut only where his mouth was, that skin the only thing visible to her. The mask was cut so that his eyes weren't even able to catch light for her to make out what eye color it was, but she didn't care. She had her eyes on the man with the cape. "Hi!"

The man nodded his head, head drifting down to her feet and slowly dragging up her legs slowly, settling on her breasts before making their way up to her face.

Oh, he was that kind of man.

"Hi," he said coolly, dipping his hat at her. "Have a good ride over here?"

She chuckled at his question, nodding her head. "Bit bumpy, but it was all good."

"This party is already dead," he said, looking around the roof, "excuse the pun."

"Yeah, tell me about it," she mumbled, hands flying this way and that, "I've been here two hours and I pretty much got drunk on my own. What kind of loser does that?"

"The one standing in front of you," he grinned, she feeling the familiar flutter in her stomach as he flashed his teeth at her. "About eight pus shots, three blood shots and about five Coors will do that to you."

"Amen, whatever you are."

He chuckled, gripping his cape and bowing. "I, am the Phantom of the Opera. And you, are obviously a witch."

"In the flesh."

"One that could bewitch my thoughts anytime," he said, pausing before shaking his head, "that was incredibly corny. I'm going to go over there and get a beer now, ignore me -"

"No, it's fine," she stated, grabbing his arm and stopping him. "It's nice to have normal company after Captain Morgan over there tried getting to 'jump his plank' and 'ride his broom'."

The grin widened on the Phantom's face, he shaking his head in disbelief. "You can't be serious."

"Just about as serious as a heart attack, sorry to say."

He chuckled, crossing his arms across his chest. "Ah, some men don't know how to play it smooth like us drunk Phantom's. Us drunk Phantom's would serenade you with the music of the night, then attempt to get in your ... skirt."

"How incredibly romantic."

He tucked his bottom lip into his mouth, it sending an electric shock through her body, the fluttering in her gut evident again. "So, did you ever do anything crazy at a party you were at as an unknown?"

"Well," he said, voice trailing off, "I never told anyone this, but when I was nineteen, I went to some fraternity party with a buddy of mine and hooked up with some girl in the linen closet."

"That's ... definitely getting crazy," she chuckled. "I wish I had stories like that to tell. The craziest I've ever been was dancing on a bar. And that's with half of the alcohol in my system."

"Oh, we have a crazy here," he announced sarcastically, she chuckling and grabbing his hands, stopping him from flailing his arms about with his words. He froze at her touch, dropping his gaze back to hers. "We've gotta get you broken in," he chuckled, "whose got a bar for this witch to dance on? C'mon, someone's gotta have somethin-"

She reached up as he was speaking, pressing her lips to his. And just like she had thought, it was a good idea to have kept them uncovered. His mouth was warm against hers, contrasting the light breeze around them. His kiss was slow, deliberate; the man knew what he was doing. Resting her hands against the fabric on his chest, she felt him pull away, breathless. Before he could say anything, she tugging him through the mass of people and towards the doors that led to the stairwell to the elevator. If she even made it to the elevator.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, he had her up against the wall, not caring about the people filtering in and out of the party. His leg nudged hers apart so that he could rest his leg between hers, his hands holding to either side of her face, mouth nipping at her lips aggressively. She was pretty sure that if she didn't get them out of that stairwell, he'd fuck here then and there.

Gasping for breath as she pulled away, grabbing his hand and tugging him down towards the elevators, the elevator at the bottom of the apartment complex and slowly ascending towards the floor. They both stood there, she shifting from foot to foot, he doing nearly the same as he teetered from the ball of his feet to his heels, the elevator doors opening painstaking slow. As soon as the doors opened, they were a mass of arms and legs in the elevator shaft, doors shutting quickly.

Mouth to his, she blindly reached for her floor, hitting the button as the elevator began to slowly drop towards it's destination. A low, gutteral moan escaped her lips as his latched onto the warmth of the skin on her neck, rocking her hips against his. "We gotta, we gotta wait," she managed to pant as he brought his face up to hers, "we gotta wait until we get to my apartment -"

"No," he said, voice low as he reached behind her, hitting the emergency stop, holding tightly to her as it stopped abruptly, "we're going to finish this here. I can't wait until then."

"But -" She stopped, biting her lip as she felt his hand travel slowly up her inner thigh, thumb running down the length of her folds and immediately weakening, "okay."

He chuckled against her skin, licking, nibbling and then blowing gentle air against his assaults, pushing her up against the wall of the elevator with one hand. The other pressed to her belly, he gripping the fabric as he pulled gently at the fabric of the top, revealing the black see-through lace of the bra she wore to support herself more within the confines of the costume. His mouth trailed down her collarbone, tongue dotting against her skin through the valley of her breasts before his hand cupped her through the lace, thumb hooking the side of the fabric and pulling it away, mouth immediately covering the flesh that had been bared.

"Oh, God," she moaned, her hands gripping his hair, the hat that had been on his head long gone. His mouth continued, other breast uncovered, hand cupping, tweaking the already painful nipple. "Don't, oh God ..."

He smiled against her skin, releasing both breasts as he lowered himself, hiking her leg up over his shoulder as she looked on, wide-eyed. With one swift movement, her fishnets, along with her panties, were down at her ankles, his fingers sliding up and down her wet slit with appreciation. Almost as if in slow motion, he slid one long digit into her, curling against her walls and slowly pumping, her body bucking against him as he continued, another finger entering. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, unable to do so as his hot, wet mouth met her lips, licking at her juices that had already began to slide down her leg, mouth gently nibbling at her clit, she nearly collapsing on top of him with a cry. "D'you like that," he asked, tone raspy and deep, "you like when I fuck you like this? Fuck you with my fingers?"

She nodded frantically, whining when she felt both his mouth and hand leave her body. "No ..."

"Tell me you like it," he commanded, her eyes widening, his fingers lifting and touching his lips, sucking each finger as he waited. "Tell me."

"I love it," she said softly, watching as he dropped back down his knees, her leg back up on his shoulder. "Fuck ..."

"That's right, baby," he mumbled against her, "you'll get that, in due time ..." His mouth was definitely experienced, she thought, mentally thanking whoever had taught him how to do it right, thinking or maybe he was just that good. Whoever was the one to take the responsibility, had a special place in heaven waiting for them.

Her chest was heaving as she felt the warmth boil in the pit of her belly, crying out as an orgasm hit, his mouth clamping against her clit and clicking furiously, hands shaking from holding his hair so tightly. "My God, my God ..."

If that had not been hot to her, the sight of him wiping his mouth with a smirk as he stood back up, mask still intact, was. The connection of their bodies were nonexistant, she reaching for him by the lapels and tugging him against her, legs still shaking as she kissed him fiercely. He was hard against her, her hands dragging down his chest and towards his black slacks, unbuttoning them and tugging downward, freeing his erection as her eyes widened. "My, my," she murmured, hand curling around him as his head dropped back, she watching as he swallowed hard, Adam's Apple bopping up and down, "no wonder the girl wanted to fuck you in the linen closet."

His head dropped back in place, looking at her. "Tell me what you want."

She licked her lips, they swollen from their feverish kisses and his biting. "You know what I want."

"No, I want you to tell me what you want," he said, voice attempting to remain steady as she continued to pump him in her hand, he dropping his forehead to her bare shoulder, licking his lips and watching her do so. "Tell me what you want. Tell me what you want and I'll do it. Otherwise, I'm taking my very erect, very painful dick home and dealing with it myself ..."

She licked her lips again, chest heaving. His hand circled around hers, pulling him away from his dick as he looked at her. "Tell me what you want."

"I want you to fuck me," she managed to croak out, a slow smile gracing his face as he nodded, releasing her hand and pressing against her. "Fuck me," she said again, feeling his hand slowly slide down her thigh, gripping it tightly.

"Hold on," he demanded, her hands snaking over his shoulders and gripping tightly, gasping as he filled her with one long thrust. Her head fell back against the wall of the elevator, the feel of him in her. "Fuck, you feel so good," he murmured, his thrusts slow at first, growing accustomed to her, "so tight ..." He held tight to her, she rolling her hips in time with his, her release already building quickly. "God, just like that ..."

She clenched her jaw, reaching forward and grapping at the collar of his shirt, unaware of what had snapped in her hand, she crying out as she felt him tense against her, warmth filling the pit of her belly as he came, his thrusts quickening as she soon followed, her leg dropping down to the ground as they breathed heavily, looking at one another.

"That was -"

"I know," she chuckled, eyes widening as the elevator began to move again. "Oh, shit ..." She grabbed at her panties, pulling them up quickly and tugging at the fishnets, getting them back on as he zipped himself up, the doors sliding open and security staring back at them, stern expressions on their faces.

He looked at them and then at her, thinking quickly. "I told you to stop with that bullshit. I can't believe you'd keep throwing that shit back at me. We're done. Done!"

Jaw dropped, she watched as he began to step out, throwing his hand behind his back in small wave, head turned and giving her a wink. The security said nothing as she stepped back, hitting the floor to her apartment in shock. What the hell had just happened?

"It was crazy," he stated, "one minute, we're talking; the next, she lunges at me and we're making out right there on the roof. And then the stairwell. And then we're hooking up in the elevator ..."

She stood in the same spot as she had been for the last few minutes, frozen there. It couldn't have been; no, it wasn't him. They both just got lucky. Really lucky. She heard his footsteps approaching the bedroom, she scurrying to the side of her bed and kicking the costume underneath her bed. "Sounds like you had a good night."

He walked into her bedroom, a smirk on his face as she jumped from shoving the remnants of her fishnets and shoes under her bed, she jumping up and staring at him from her position. Leaning up against the doorframe, he watched as she went to her nightstand, rummaging in the drawer before pulling out her glasses, setting them on her face. "Headache that bad?"

"Argh, you have no idea," she said quickly, the glasses a decoy so that she could throw his necklace into the drawer. "So you uh, you lost your pendant?"

"Yeah," he chuckled, shaking his head, "somehow, she managed to grip it from underneath my shirt and grabbed it up and out. It's either still in the elevator or it fell when security showed up andI left. Quickly."

She licked her lips, trying to keep her cool. "Security showed?"

"I ... from what I remember ... I hit the emergency stop on the elevator. Things got a little out of hand."

She felt the redness crawl on her cheeks unexpectedly, turning her head. "You remember it all?"

"Nah," he said, shaking his head, chuckling. "I just know that I've got bite marks right here ... "

She turned her head, looking just as he motioned to the curve of his neck. Her stomach dropped, she clearing her throat. "Those are ... interesting."

"Ah, yes. It had to be good. My hips hurt -"

"Argh, enough information," she groaned, her headache suddenly pounding ten-fold. "I have to go to the bathroom." She quickly brushed past him, body shuddering as she felt his body against her side, hurriedly closing the door behind her. "Oh, my God," she mumbled, her mind racing with memories of the night before like the commercial for the perfume Curious.

Of course she dared! Apparently, she dared with way too much alcohol and the bite necks evident on his neck. She leaned up against the sink, head dropping as she sighed deeply, masking the devestated sob that settled in her throat. Pushing away, she backed up, sitting on the toilet and immediately hissing out in pain at her legs, mainly her left leg. Tugging down her pants, she gasped at the bite mark the rested in her inner thigh, muscles aching from the position that she had been in, from the force of this thrusts. If it had been questionable before, it was no longer: she had sex with her best friend, not knowing it was her best friend. She ripped off his necklace in the midst of passion, somehow maintaining a hold of it until she undressed and passed out in her own bed later.

Touching her tender skin, she saw the formation of where his mouth had been, saw the bite marks. A sob escaped her throat, she putting her hand to her mouth and trying to calm herself. How was she going to fix this? How would she be able to fix something between one of her closest friends? There wasn't any deeper feelings than that, she didn't feel for him that way!

And then her stomach lurched, heart beating rapidly. Did she?

She stood, body shaky as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Turning on cold water and cupping it into her hands, she splashed it against the warm skin, trying to calm her racing thoughts. Mouth to collarbone, hip to hip, hands holding to her face, mouth to mouth; bright blue eyes that nearly disappeared when he smiled cheekily, chiseled cheekbones, soothing voice.

"Oh, my God," she said softly, realization washing over her face. She cared about him more than she led herself onto believe.

"Natalie, are you okay?"

She jumped at his voice leaking through the door, turning the water off and using the remnants of the cold water to pat her face once more. "I'm okay," she said softly, composing herself before slowly opening the door. She was met with his concerned gaze, trying to brush it off. "What?"

"You were crying."

"My head hurts," she answered shortly, walking away from him and into the kitchen. How the hell was she supposed to act now?! She slept with the man behind her, following her, and he had no idea that it was her! "I need some strong medication, some strong pills ..." She reached into her cupboard, gasping when he gripped her wrist, stopping her. All right, so maybe it wasn't her head hurting so much as her heart and her feelings ...

"C'mon, Nat, talk to me," he said softly. "I didn't even see you there and I know that if you got as drunk as that headache is hinting, then I would have noticed some girl dancing on the ledge or something, thinking it was a bar ..."

Bar. She told him about dancing on the bar. God, help her if he suddenly realized, if it suddenly dawned on him ...

"I probably wasn't that drunk," she murmured, "I probably just cracked my neck or something when I was going to bed." Which, was the partial truth: she wasn't that drunk. Blind drunkenness had found her when she was a college student, blacking out and not waking up for hours at a time, not ever remembering her rendez-vous' the night before. The night was coming back to her slowly, in bits, flashes. Teeth scraping against breasts, against her jawline, her thigh, her - oh, God. He had been in her ...

"Natalie, you're so fucking pale," JC cried out in shock, he grabbing her elbows to stop her from moving, "come on, sit down." He led her to the kitchen table, sitting her down gently and watching her bury her face into her hands. "Are you really okay?"

She cringed as he touched her back, fingers gently running up and down her back soothingly. With his touch, it sweet, worried, she felt what was left in her stomach begin to churn, bile slowly rising. "I think I'm going to be sick." She turned away from him, rising quickly and running to the bathroom. Throwing herself onto the floor, she heaved what came out as she sobbed hysterically, the thought of what happened and it's repurcussions to come wrecking her on the inside.

"Christ, Natalie," his voice said, soft and worried as he kneeled beside her, hands tucking her hair behind her ears and pulling her hair back, blindly reaching for the hair tie that rested on the sink as he tied it low on her neck. Dropping her hair as he watched her intently, she breathing heavy as she fought the sobs, he unsure of what to do. Getting up, he took the mouthwash that she had, pouring some into the cup and placing it at her lips, waiting for her to gargle and spit it into the toilet. "Here," he said softly, getting back up and placing the cup on the sink, picking her up by underneath her arms, leaning her into him. "I'm taking you to the emergency room."

"No," she mumbled, shaking her head and stopping him from walking. "I'm fine, just nauseous, is all." She gently pushed away from him, stepping unsteadily away. "I just -"

"Come on now," he said softly, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, leading her back into her bedroom. "You need to lie down."

Thankful she had kicked her costume underneath her bed, she released his neck as he lay her on the bed, she searching his eyes. How had she not known it was him all along last night? The same touch, the same tone? At that moment, the promise to herself to never, ever drink again went through her brain, along with never going to a Halloween party where masks were mandatory.

Never again.

"I'm going to make you some tea, okay?" His eyes studied her, hand sweeping over her forehead, ridding her of the small beads of sweat near her hairline. He pulled her blankets back over her, exiting the room slowly, but not before taking one more worried glance back at her.

Once he was out of earshot and sight, she felt the tears begin, silent sobs escaping as she put her hand to her mouth. What had they done? That one tryst would, and did change everything ... even if he didn't know it had changed. She knew, she'd always know.

She lay there in silence, her tears the only company she had as she listened to him move throughout the kitchen, dishes being movied, the sugar jar on the counter moving. The spoon hitting the sides of the mug brought her eyes to the door, watching as he appeared there shortly after. Crossing the threshold slowly and sitting down in the space she left between her and the edge of the bed, he set the tea down, looking at her with an eyebrow raised, though eyes still dark in concern. "What, Jace?"

"Why do I have the feeling you aren't telling me the truth?" He swept his hand over her forehead again, her eyes falling shut as she swallowed roughly, trying to will the tears away once more.  "Why do I feel like something happened to you and you aren't telling me?"

"I'm fine," she whispered, eyes still shut as his thumb lingered on her skin, gently rubbing it near her temple, "I just need to sleep."

"All right," he said softly, defeat evient in his voice. But she knew him, she knew he wasn't going to give up so easily. "I'll let you rest then."

She nodded, heart speeding up when his lips touched her clammy skin like he had done when he came into the kitchen the day before. "Thanks, JC."

"Mmm-hmm," he murmured, getting up and closing her blinds, leaving the room and closing the door gently behind him.

She sighed deeply, angrily. This was going to be the death of her. Not old age, not some sort of illness; the devastation brought on with the scientific name, sleptith withith bestus friendus; also known as, Joshua Scott Chasez.

He was all over her. After the hook-up, she remembered nothing. Putting pieces together, she figured that she somehow made it to her apartment, stripped of all clothes but her panties and threw on the shorts and tanktop she was now lying in bed in. Which meant, the evidence of sex was still there on the very fabric she wore beneath her shorts; the very thing she is wearing was one that he nearly ripped off of her in the elevator.

She felt weak again, scrambling to her feet and ripping her clothes off, grabbing the robe hanging on her computer chair and went quickly to the bathroom, turning the water as hot as she could handle. Within moments, she was in the shower, head against the wall and crying. Grabbing the washcloth from the shelf she had set some clean ones on, she lathered as much soap as she could get, and while leaning, scrubbed her skin raw. Every place his hand, his body, his lips, his ... she bit her lip to keep the tears away as she tried to contain herself, hissing as she rubbed too roughly against the sensitive flesh between her breasts, eyes clenched shut. She had to rid herself of him, rid herself of the images that riddled her mind of his hands all over her, his mouth on her.

The water was reddening her skin quickly, it almost tender to the touch. Quickly washing her hair and giving herself one more scrub down, she stepped out of the shower and quickly dried off, throwing her robe back on and going into her room, grabbing a clean pair of panties and a long t-shirt. She brushed her hair, sitting down on the bed and pulling open the nightstand drawer, pulling out the pendant and holding it in her hands. Fingers tracing the lion delicately, she blinked back tears. It was her choice: choose to tell him and ruin everything, or forget it ever happened. She couldn't afford to lose him, he was the only one she ever looked forward to seeing anymore.

She'd push aside the fact that the mistake they made last night was the very reason she realized she cared a little too much about him, going over the lines of friendly to friendlier; push aside any other thoughts than, he cared about her simply as a friend and telling him they slept together would be her greatest mistake. She had to forget about it herself, forget it ever happened. She'd have to tell herself over and over again that it never happened; maybe within time, she'd believe her own lies.

She put the necklace back as she lay back down on the bed, curling up into a fetal position and turning the television on, settling on an older episode of Gilmore Girls. Within a few moments, she was sound asleep.

"All right," he said softly, clearing his throat, "so then can I tell you my problem?"

She chuckled. "You? Of all people? You have a problem?!"

"Ha, ha, Natalie," he said sarcastically, clearing his throat again. "If I tell you my problem, you can't think of me any differently."

She felt her stomach drop, possibilities of what he wanted to say racing through her head. "I'd never think of you any differently," she said softly, he giving her the smile that always gave her the weak feeling in her stomach, the sweet, gentle smile, that although it may not have reached his cheeks, his eyes sparkled. And all that was bad in the world was suddenly okay, she putty in his hands. It killed her to know that it took the little tryst that they had had the night before she realized that she had fallen for him blindly. Blindly and helplessly. Shaking off her feelings, she continued. "So tell me what your problem is."

"My problem," he said softly, inhaling as if he were preparing himself to get an earful, "my problem is that I think I've formed an attraction to this ... woman."

A sudden wave of relief went over her. This, this was good. Not only would she be able to focus on the idea of him being attracted to someone else, but he was already moving on from the one night stand with her that he knew nothing about. Maybe it was a woman that worked in his studio, or worked along side him; a friend of a friend, friend of Justin's. "And who is this woman?"

He smiled, this time wider, as his eyes got a faraway look in his eyes. Focusing back on her, he shrugged. "I would like to know, too."

"Wait," she said, confused. "Why would I look at you differently for developing a crush on someone you see from far away? That happens to a lot of people."

"I didn't exactly see her from far away, Natalie," he whispered, she seeing a hint of red crawl up his cheeks, "I saw her pretty close. Intimately close."

Her eyes widened as she realized what he was referring to. Bile was already forming in her stomach, churning as he looked at her expectantly. "A girl you hooked up with on tour? In LA?"

He shook his head. "The girl from last night." When she was quiet, he continued, "I mean, we definitely did something that isn't really something to be completely proud of, but she was different. She was different than every girl I've ever ... well, you know ... hooked up with. The way she touched me was like she knew me forever and it just felt good. It felt good to have a woman touch me without flipping out because of who I was ... even if I was wearing a mask. She approached me and it felt like we were meant to meet last night. She had these amazing brown eyes and -" he stopped, she almost thinking he had put two and two together. He hadn't. "I'm sorry, I'm spilling all this like you even care about some chick I hooked up with."

She smirked slightly, shrugging. "It's fine. At least I'm not hearing how much of a whore she was."

He laughed. "Well, she was dressed like a pretty provocative witch, but that didn't seem to be in her demeanor at all. She seemed pretty shy when I was watching her walk around. She didn't speak to anyone and she looked like she was lost ... until some dick Pirate walked up to her."

She chuckled. "And what did you do?"

"What could I do? She handled herself pretty well, I think. He hit on her for a few moments and she seemed to just go along with it. But when he got pretty much into her, she walked away. Walked away to me." He looked proud at that moment, she only able to contain the slight chuckle from escaping her lips. "I don't know what it was about her, but I can't get her off my mind. I can't ... I keep picturing the way she looked at me right before we kissed and how she felt ... how she felt like home, you know? Like she was this woman I came to all the time." He laughed, shaking his head. "And now I sound like a woman."

"Well, in which case, you are," she joked, he pushing her shoulder gently. "That's abuse. If you weren't a woman, I may have to call the police. Otherwise, I'd beat you."

"Funny, Natalie." He closed his eyes, inhaling slowly and breathing out, letting the silence fall between them. "Rest, would you? I'm sick of talking."

She smirked, turning over onto the side she usually slept on, feeling him scoot closer to her, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek. "Thanks," she murmured, letting her eyes fall. "Thanks for being here."

"Anytime, Nat," he murmured, leaning back up against the pillows, "I just wish you'd tell me what was going on in your head."

"I know you do, but I don't want to talk about it." She closed her eyes tightly, feeling emotional all over again. The bile rose, stomach churning. "I'm going to get sick again," she groaned, getting up and running for the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Though nothing ended up coming out, she still felt as horrible as she did when it slowly rose in her throat, stinging and feeling like a large lump that she couldn't swallow. He was like a pill she couldn't swallow; couldn't get rid of - not that she wanted to. But she knew once she swallowed and bit the bullet, she would lose him after he found out what she knew.

She took a deep breath, opening up the door and walking back into her bedroom. "Sorry," she said softly, seeing him sitting on the edge of the bed facing the opposite wall on her side, head down. "I'm okay now."

"Good," he said softly, eyes still settled between his legs where his hands were. He was stoic, never moving. He didn't even look up to see if she really was okay.

She grew alarmed at his suddenly change in demeanor, walking into the room and looking at him worriedly. "Jace, are you okay?"

He finally brought his gaze up, she gasping at the sudden darkening of the light blues of his eyes. "How could you keep this from me?"

She looked at him, alarmed. "Keep what, exactly?"

He brought his hand up, her heart pounding and color draining from her skin as she saw the pendant dangling off of his hooked finger. "I thought I'd be the nice guy, get you some aspirin that I knew you kept in your drawer and make you take them. Then, get this, as I'm opening up the drawer, something oddly familiar looks up and me and I'm like, 'hey, Nat found my necklace!'. Then, I'm like, 'well, she couldn't have because I lost it last night ... unless I didn't wear it last night and thought I did.' But you and I both know that this necklace never leaves my neck unless it unclasps, which it's been famous for, or gets tugged on. And then the wheels started turning and I'm thinking, 'oh, holy fuck, it was Natalie.' I had sex with you last night, Natalie."

Her chest was heaving as she tried to hold in scared sobs, his eerily calm demeanor scaring her more than the act itself did. "JC -"

"Is this what you were so hung up on? So sick about? Jesus Christ, Natalie, why couldn't you just tell me?! Why did you let me go on and on about this amazing girl who ended up being you?"

She took a step back, offended. "Gee, way to make a girl feel good."

He shook his head, weaving a hand through his hair and getting up, she backing up once more as he stepped away from her and towards her door. "That's not what I meant and you know it. Why couldn't you tell me? Why couldn't you tell me before it happened?!"

"In case you forgot, I was drunk, JC. I wasn't the only one trying to get into someone else's pants!"

"I know, Natalie, but God! You knew! I can't ... I feel sick." He stopped moving abruptly, leaning up against the wall and holding his forehead. "Oh, my God ..."

"What do we do about this, huh? Why do you think I was trying not to tell you? I didn't want this to happen and I didn't want you to go over in your head a billion times what happened and how it's going to affect probably the best relationship you and I have ever had with the opposite sex. How you are probably the only man in my life, besides my father that I trust completely and suddenly witht his burden on my shoulders, not knowing if I should tell you or not because I know the trust would somehow diminish, regardless of it being a mistake or not. How it went through my head that this is going to completely fuck up whatever we see each other as. How, even if I tried, I wouldn't be able to look at you the same way and I was okay with that because you weren't looking at me like that. That I'd live with knowing what was done and do nothing about it because I'd rather have the burden myself and not lose you than tell you and probably lose you."

"You kept this from me. Best friends don't keep things like this from each other! Especially when it deals with fucking each other!"

"Jace, stop it." She stepped forward, reaching for his hand that was yanking at his shirt, he suddenly uncomfortable within his own skin. He looked at her, eyes wild. "Jace, we'll fix this -"

"How the hell can we fix this? We fucked up so bad, Natalie; so bad. You let me go on and on about how this woman I slept with was someone I wanted to go after and it was you. It was you! You let me go on and on and make an ass out of myself! You ... God, I can't even look at you right now without thinking of last night." He stepped away from her, briskly walking through the apartment to her kitchen. "I have to go. I need to go. I can't be here right now."

"JC -"

"Just, stop, Natalie, okay? Just stop."

"Josh, you can't leave like this."

His face reddened at the use of his first name, he shaking his head. "And you can't keep secrets like this, either."

She opened her mouth to speak, he holding his hand up to silence her as he grabbed his keys. "Ice cream is in the freezer, cake is on the counter. I'll see you later, Natalie."

"JC, please -"

"Goodbye, Natalie."

She cringed as he slammed the door, shaking her head. She knew there wouldn't be a later. It was a see you never. Grabbing the door and swinging it open, she stepped out into the hall, watching his form walk away towards the elevators. "JC, stop, please."

"No."

She turned, closing her door and running after him, catching up to him as he hit the button to go down to the ground floor to the parking garage, he not meeting her gaze. "You have to let me explain this, JC. You have to let me explain why I kept it from you when I know I should have said something the moment I realized what happened between us last night ..."

"I don't want to hear excuses, Nat," he murmured, looking at her through his peripheral vision. "I'm sick of being lied to."

"Yeah, well, I'm sick of being looked at like I'm some whore," she snapped, his eyes widening as she spat it out at him. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want to fuck up what we had, JC. You're my best friend and if anything ever came between us like this, it'd kill me. You're the only person I respect around here, the only person that I care what they think. I may not show it much, but I do care about you and what we have a lot. Last night, should never have happened and I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry. But you weren't exactly Mr. Prude ripping off my fishnets, either!"

"And you weren't exactly Miss Innocent shoving your tongue down my throat, either -"

"Stop it," she snapped once more, shaking her head. "You know why people hide things like this. It hurts them, it tears them apart. If someone loves another person, they would do anything in their power to refrain from that. To do anything to keep them happy and I tried. I tried so hard and it made me sick to my stomach thinking what happened because of two drunken, horny people."

"Are you saying that you love me," he asked softly, seeing how pale she became with just that question. "That in order for you to protect me, because you ... loved me, you had to keep it from me?"

"Of course I love you, you're one of my best friends!"

"No," he murmured, "that's not what you meant. You meant it the other way."

She took a step backward, shocked that he was laying it out in front of her like he was. "No, I -"

"That's how you said it."

She stood there, silent. She had already dug the six feet for a proper burial, why not dig further? Their relationship as friends was doomed anyway. "I did."

He turned his head, confused. "You did, what?"

She sighed deeply. "I did mean it that way. That is why I was suddenly sick to my stomach. I realized that there's a whole new level of caring that I have for you and it's because I loved you."

The elevator doors dinged, he jumping at the sound. Looking from her and to the door, he looked almost as if he were making a life and death decision. In a way, he was. "I have to go," he mumbled. He quickly got into the elevator, letting the doors slide shut without so much as a glance back at her.

Her shoulders slumped. She had to be strong, she expected this. She knew this would happen. This was how her life measured up, anyway. Things come out at the wrong time and she was the one left to pick up the pieces. Not this time, she'd be strong, she'd move on.

Closing the door, she walked slowly into her bedroom, crawling back onto her bed and lying down, cringing when something rubbed against her back roughly. Reaching underneath her blindly, she pulled out the pendant, eyes immediately watering.

Okay, maybe next time she'd be strong.

"I swear, I never, ever catch you at home anymore," a voice sighed into the answering machine. "You need to call me soon; let me know you're around ... alive, would be better. It'd be nice if I could catch you so I could take you out to celebrate your birthday, but apparently, you have vanished into thin air. So, Happy Birthday. Call your damn sister because she's worried about you."

Natalie sighed as her sister hung up, reaching over and blindly taking the phone off the hook. Unfortunately for her, she had to keep her cell phone on in case of work issues, but when she saw the familiar numbers grace the front of the phone screen, the call was silenced and she resumed her staring at the wall.

After many minutes, many hours of staring at the spackled ceiling, she had gotten many figures, many words out of the designs, one that made her heart pang with guilt and grief, bringing her to a sudden stop to her time-consuming game: JC. That, and many forms of his name.

Josh. Joshua. C. Jace. JC.

She sat up at that moment, sighing deeply. She was 29 today. November 18th. Which meant that she had not seen or spoken to JC for 18 days. 432 hours. 25,920 minutes. God, she didn't even want to acknowledge the seconds. Not that she was counting.

She wasn't doing much of anything. Besides working, she felt no need to get up and do things. She'd just lie on the couch, in her bed and just mope. There had never been a break-up quite as heartbreaking as the one between she and him. It wasn't even like it was a break-up, anyway; he was just her friend. Her angry friend who walked out of her life possibly forever. The only thing she knew was that it would never be the same.

Her stomach roared to life, startling her. She hadn't eaten a full meal in days, and it was now fighting against her. She knew she had to eat, had to move on, but it was hard. She was foolish; he probably was out hanging with other friends, drinking beer, having fun.

Getting up and heading towards her kitchen, she pulled out a pot and a bag of the Ramen Noodles she usually kept for when she didn't feel well - this being a pretty good occasion for them. After putting the water on to boil, she turned on her radio, the frown on her face immediately deepening.

Yeah, she had perfect timing.

... Made a mistake
Let you go baby
Don't you know I drive myself crazy
Wanting you the way that I do
Wanting you the way that I do

Why didn't I know it? (How much I loved you, baby)
Why couldn't I show it? (If I had only told you)
When I had the chance
Oh, I had the chance!

Jumping at the brief knock on her door, she rubbed her eyes roughly, walking up to peer into the peephole. There was no one there. Opening the door slowly and peering out, no one stood before her, but a small box with a deep purple ribbon: her favorite color. Footsteps were heard going down the corridor, her eyes widening. "JC?"

He stopped, shoulders stiff as he turned slowly, hands jammed into his pockets. "Happy Birthday, Natalie," he said softly, watching her as she bent down slowly, picking up the small box and holding it in her fingers. "I wish I could say more, but I can't. Not right now." He turned on his heel, retreating back to the opening elevators, wanting to make a quick escape. No such luck.

"Jace."

As hard as he tried to not turn around, the woman in front of him held more power to his being than he realized, slowly turning on the ball of his foot to look at her figure, she still little ways down. "Yeah?"

She looked at him as he stood in front of the elevator, hand that had been holding the door to the elevator dropped to the side, eyes dark, littered with emotions that she wasn't sure she could decipher clearly. She had been wrong though; he wasn't out partying, celebrating the gain of freedom away from her. He looked just as hurt as she did. "Thank you," she said softly, looking from the box to him, lifting it up somewhat to show him what she had been thanking him for. "For this, and for not forgetting."

"There are a lot of things I don't forget, Natalie," he said, licking his lips and sighing deeply as he turned, looking at the elevator in disdain, "and the last few weeks I haven't forgotten, either."

"I never asked you to, Josh," she said softly, he looking down at his feet, "I only asked for you to forgive me in what I felt was the right thing to do at the given time. I'd never hurt you intentionally, you know that."

"I do know that," he agreed, head slowly bobbing up and down in a nod, "but you did and it hurts more than I could have imagined you hurting me. There's a lot of confusion bubbling in my head, a lot of anger. As much as I want to snatch that box away from you and say you don't deserve it, you do. You've been there for me a lot the last few years and it's the only thing I have been sure of since I left your apartment that day. Here I was, setting up this big hunt down for this girl who I had no idea how to locate, and there she was, in front of me the whole time. I thought I had no idea who this amazing person was and it was you. You in cognito. I can't ... I can't think of what happened between the two of us without getting dizzy, confused ... I can't grasp how we used to say we knew each other so well that we couldn't even realize it was the other person standing in front of us. I knew that this woman had a familiar touch and I -" he stopped, shaking his head. "I have to go. I don't want to be angry anymore and standing here trying to explain myself to you is making me angry ..."

"You don't have to explain yourself," she said, hands dropping to her side as he shook his head, hitting the button for the now gone elevator, "I never asked for an explanation. I don't want one."

He frowned. "Look, Nat ... Natalie, you were my best friend. Something big happened between us and now I've gotta figure out how to accept it. I won't be able to look at you the same way and I just ... I don't know if it's worth even sticking around when I used to look at you with so much respect and pride because of who you were and I knew I'd never have to worry about things between us ... but I guess that's where I failed. I should have worried, I should have seen how we looked at each other, how we spoke; I should have paid attention to the little quips we'd throw back and forth, the closeness we always ended up having when we'd watch movies. I should have realized just how different we were from what we were in the beginning the moment I realized that anytime I said 'hello' or 'goodbye', I suddenly had to touch you ... to kiss your cheek, your forehead ... any piece of skin that was not your mouth that I could touch on your face. That ... if I kissed you like I had wanted the last few months, I may have never realized like I do now how bad it would be ... how bad it would be to lose someone that you thought the world of because of silly feelings. And just when I realized it, I couldn't stop, as hard as I tried; then you throw what you said out there on me and I could only walk away. I have to. I just have to walk away before either of us get hurt again."

"You walking away hurts," she frowned, he seeing tears forming in her eyes as he sighed deeply. "You walking away as if nothing matters anymore hurts. That I don't matter."

"I'm sorry," he murmured, stepping into the elevator then. She wasn't sure if he was apologizing for the hurting or for his leaving, but either way, it only made the situation worse. "I'll see you around, kid."

"Jace -"

"Happy Birthday."

Her shoulders slumped in defeat as the elevator doors slid closed, he disappearing from sight. His lack of presence suddenly depressed her, she holding back tears as she walked back to her apartment, closing the door gently behind her as she cradled the box in her hands, some ridiculous song now on the radio, she ignoring it, sitting down at her kitchen table and looking at the box.

JC

She gripped the paper, anger boiling to her very core. Within moments, the hand that had been gripping the paper had crunched it into a tiny ball and she was throwing it across the room in rage. How dare he? How dare he try to sugarcoat what he really was trying to say? It was her fault what happened, happened. It was her fault; everything was her fault. He was trying to be the saint, the martyr, trying to perceive her as the Mary Magdalene, the failure in need of rescuing!

Take care?! Take care?! She scoffed, walking briskly into her room as she threw clothes this way and that, grabbing a hooded sweatshirt and a pair of her shoes, slamming the door behind her.

She'd give him a piece of her mind. Give him a piece of reality. Her reality. He wasn't the only one suffering from this; she was in more pain than he was! She lost him! It was a whole hell of a lot more than losing her.

Her hands were weak from gripping the steering wheel as she walked up the path to his home, trying her best to grip the small box in her hand and keep herself from going too insane. The nerve of him; the nerve of him even to act all depressed! He had no idea what it was doing to her!

He had a doorbell. Oh, no, he wasn't good enough for the twinkling of the chimes that alerted him of a visitor behind the large, thick door. Oh, no, she was pounding against it. Fist raised and balled tightly, she slammed her hand against the wood. Once, twice. Three, four times. She heard him moving around in there, heard him setting down something heavy on the table. Heard him play with the chained and deadbolted locks before finally turning the last lock and pulling the door open, startling and stepping back away from her.

"Natalie, what the hell are you doing here?"

She lifted up her hand, thrusting the box into his chest as he scrambled to grab it before it fell. "I don't want it. Take the damn thing back."

Stumbling a bit with the stance he was now in and the words thrown at him, his eyebrows creased, mouth slightly falling open. "What do you mean, 'take it back'? I bought that for your birthday."

"And I'm telling you, I don't want it. I don't want anything from you."

"I don't understand -"

This time, I won't take it back
'Cause something's coming to you

"What don't you understand? I don't want your damn gift and I don't want any sort of sympathy from you! In fact, maybe it's just best that I don't have you in my life anymore. Maybe that's it, right? Apparently, you've made that decision yourself anyway."

"What the fuck are you talking about, Natalie? I've never said I wanted you out of my life!"

She scoffed, "no, but you're walking away did. Just like my walking away will." She sighed angrily, turning on her heel and down the sidewalk, hearing him call out to her in confusion, she ignoring him

This time, I'm gonna breathe a breath
Walking on down the road

I can never promise that you'll never be lonely
But as long as we're together, it can always only be
Misery

"Natalie, wait up," he called, she hearing his door shut and his footsteps hit the cemented sidewalk quickly. "I said, wait the fuck up! What are you doing?!" He grabbed her shoulder, turning her to face him as she cried out in surprise. "Why the hell would you think I'm trying to sympathize you?! That I would want to walk away from you? I don't do shit like that and you know it!"

She laughed bitterly. "Right. That letter you wrote me -"

"That letter was how I felt," he snapped. "How I felt at that given moment; how you felt! We didn't want to put blame on either of us, so we didn't! I didn't! It took two people for what happened last night to happen and I can't point any fingers! Natalie, you were my best friend -"

"Were," she snapped. "I was your best friend. Past tense, am I right? You've already pushed me aside because you're just too damn scared to face what happened, what I said to you! Well, I'm not regretting any of that, all right?! I'm not regretting anything that happened between us and you know why? Because it's not worth it! What I said wasn't worth it, what happened wasn't worth it!" She swiped her hands together, lifting them to show him. "See? My hands are clean of the situation. So, all right, I slept with someone I fell for. So, he was a complete ass about it! I'm over it. I'm over you."

Last night, I got off the fence
'Cause I won't be a fool
On this side, the grass is greener
Than the garden that I used to grow
I'm walking on down the road

"Natalie, what are you talking about? Over me?"

"That’s exactly what I said," she snapped. The look on his face as color drained from his cheeks startled her, her eyebrows knitting in confusion. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You ... love me?"

She scoffed, stepping away from him. "Don’t play the dumb card, JC; you’re not part of a group and you don’t need to hold a title for the slowest to get the punchline anymore. You know what was said."

"I know I know what was said, but I -" he stopped, shaking his head. "You love me, love me? You meant it that way?"

She was ready to tear her hair out. Or his. His would be better, he had less. More painful. "I’m not repeating it."

"I didn’t know ... I mean, I knew you loved me ... but I didn’t take it as you loved me." He was quiet then, hand still clenching the earrings. "I didn’t know, I honestly didn’t know ..."

"Yeah, well, now you do," she mumbled, sighing deeply as she felt the beginnings of the bitter cold. The wind began to whip around her, she shaking her head in disbelief. "I should go." He stood there, not saying one word. He had suddenly become speechless.

I can never promise that you’ll never be lonely
But as long as we’re together
It can always only be
Misery

He shook from the blank stare, eyes settling on the earrings in his hand and then back to her face, her eyes; every piece of her face he was making a permanent memory, a permanent picture, even if the picture isn’t one she’d be fond of. "Yeah," he said, finally speaking as he sucked in his bottom lip, shivering at the suddenly flash back of memory, his tongue tracing her bottom lip before nipping it gently. "Maybe you should go."

"Yeah," she repeated, she rolling her eyes in annoyance. "Just give me two seconds and I’ll be out of your life for good."

"Natalie -"

I can never promise that you’ll never be lonely
But as long as we’re together it can always only be

"Goodbye, JC," she said softly, he swearing her heard a slight tremble in her voice.

"Natalie, c’mon," he grabbed her door, keeping her from closing it. "Just ... listen."

"I’ve heard everything you could ever say, Jace," she frowned, eyes burning into the steering wheel, keeping her gaze away from him. "Please give me your door back. I need to get home."

He couldn’t do anything, the words coming at him like ice. Was he really going to let her go, drive away just like that? Cringing as the door closed, he heard the car start and she soon was driving away from him, back out of his life again.

Apparently, he was.

Misery ...

It was beginning to snow. The air was brisk, sky a faded gray as small flurries began to fall around her. Eyes closed as she tugged the blanket around her tighter, she inhaled deeply, letting the cold enter her throat and lungs. It was refreshing, her favorite time of the year in that moment: the first snow fall, the snow covering the ground and past seasons just like white out, ridding it of all prior memories of what once was there, what had been left to ruin.

What was now lost under a thin sheet of frost and snow was one of the things she wanted to lose, what she wanted to forget. She wanted to forget the last month and a half, wanted to forget the friendship she had that was still tearing up her insides like a shredder, leaving no piece unharmed. Her heart seemed to have taken the most abuse, she surprised it was still beating. Tears had long ago subsided, her eyes feeling like they were eternally dry; her mind no longer raced, in fact, it seemed to have stop thinking all together - her work was suffering because of it.

How he had affected her as he had still drove her insane. She loved him; realized it too late and spoke on it at the wrong time, but she loved him. Told him so to only get her heart ripped out and broken even more than it was after the past incident had happened. Her heart broke the moment he walked away from her, the moment he didn't go after her that night at his home; when he stopped calling at that very moment, too.

He had become hypocritical the moment he said he never walked away. He did. He wiped his hands clean, wiped his slate completely clean: clean of her, clean of memories of her. He was in LA now, doing radio promotion, performing random bits of songs for DJs and fans alike in a chipper, typical JC-like mood while she, she sat clear across the country in her Tribeca apartment and seemed to have made a career out of blank stares and blank articles.

The cold had spread to her fingertips clear down to her toes, she shivering as she finally stepped into the apartment again and inhaled the faint of pumpkin and apple, pies that her sister had brought by before taking she and her boyfriend, boyfriend down to Vermont to meet her parents and spend Christmas with them.

Christmas sucked.

She slid shut the glass door, drawing the blinds back to the end and letting the curtain follow, keeping the gray day outside of the apartment. She didn't need anymore depression around her; didn't need anything around her anymore.

She walked into her kitchen, slicing a piece of the apple pie and putting it into the microwave, nuking the insides as she reached for the radio, putting it back to her favorite station, one that had never seemed to let her down with good music.

She took the warm plate from the microwave a few moments later, sitting down and piercing the crust with her fork, pausing mid-fork to mouth as the DJ's voice began to speak after a commercial.

"So you've been back in New York for how long now? A week?"

"A little less than, yeah. Did my thing in LA and came back to the east coast to see family."

"Family, as in Florida family or Maryland family?"

The voice chuckled, it low and forced. "No, I uh," he cleared his throat, "I've got family here, actually in the Tribeca area that I've been somewhat avoiding and it's about time I went to see her."

"Oh, a her, huh? Is this 'family', and I say 'family' very loosely, a girlfriend?"

"No."

She snorted, rolling her eyes. Far from it, far from anything. How dare he even say he was even in the area to see her? She knew it was her, she knew she was the only person he knew in Tribeca. "Fuck you," she mumbled as she put her fork down on the plate, shaking her head in disbelief. "Fuck you, Chasez."

"Well, now that we know you're here to see your quote-unquote 'family', how about that promise to sing a bit of the song you were singing earlier? The one that the girls over there in our studio nearly fan-girled out with and we had to send them all to the emergency room?"

"You really want me to sing? I just thought it was joking; that we were going to talk about ABDC ..."

"Well, I mean, you can sing about that if you want, but I'm pretty sure I'll get laid by one of those chicks if you sing ..."

She rolled her eyes again, suddenly hating the radio station, hating the DJ, hating herself. Her mind, one that had been on a slow cruise control was suddenly on auto pilot, going a million thoughts a minute, she unable to stop any.

He sounds fine.

No, he sounds upset.

He had enough nerve to bring me up as 'family'. I'm not his 'family'.

I miss him.

No, I don't. He's not part of my life anymore; don't miss what you don't have.

" ... It's a wonder we don't hear about your sex life, Chasez; with a voice like yours, I'm shocked to see girls aren't knocking on your door, your hotel room door or any door for that matter to get with you."

"I'm not like that, man," he laughed. "It's flattering you would think so ... I think, anyway? But ten years ago, maybe I would have been but things change and some things have suddenly become a lot more important than having one night stands."

Her heart panged. And there it was. The last nail to drive through her already barely beating heart. Tears welled up, she nearly sobbing when she realized she had not cried herself out, pinching the bridge of her nose to keep the tears at bay. Was this really how she was going to let him affect her? Was this really what she had brought herself down to?

Yes and yes. No matter how many times, it'd be always yes.

"My heart was taken a long time ago," he continued, "it definitely took me through a loop and I really didn't know how to react. A lot of things were said and I am just now getting back on both feet."

"Sounds like you may end up unavailable to all these girls in here," the DJ teased, "but hell, that's okay, I'll take 'em!"

"If she'll have me," he said softly, barely audible over the fans in the studio, "I don't think that's possible anymore."

She scoffed, gripping the sleeves opposite of both arms tightly, knuckles white. She knew what he was doing, knew exactly what he was doing. She'd beat him before he got there, beat him to the punch, let him feel as she did the last month and a half. Christmas was not even a week away, but this Christmas, she'd let him be alone. She was done waiting around, done feeling as if she was never going to be good enough. She was going home, going to the people she knew would accept what she said, welcome with open arms when she told them she loved them.

She pulled a suitcase out of her hallway closet, lugging it back to her bedroom as she threw various sweaters and jeans in, underwear following shortly as she stalked across to the bathroom, grabbing her toothbrush and all toiletries in one swoop of her hands. And just like a forceful punch to the stomach, she stopped abruptly, tears welling again in her eyes as the same voice she had heard over and over again drifted into her ears, into her brain, into her heart.

"Forgive me if it's a little rusty," he said softly, "this goes out to you, where ever you are ..."

I don't know when we fell apart ...

She shook from her stance, quickly grabbing her bearings and throwing all of her things into the suitcase, zipping it quickly as she lugged it out into the kitchen and threw it by the door, grabbing her keys and reached for the radio's power, hand stopping as his voice continued to sing.

Things we said were so wrong
And I haven't held you for so long
My foolish pride turns me inside
Why did we tell all those lies?
If you can reach for the phone
You don't have to be alone

"That was amazing, man. Fantastic."

"Thank y-"

She shut it off before he could speak further, sniffling loudly as she grabbed her cell phone. Dialing the number asn she put it to her ear, she inhaled deeply, waiting for the other end to pick up. After a few rings, it finally did. "Mama," she said softly, "can I come home for a while?"

Vermont was beautiful in the winter. Of course, many places were when just the right amount of snow had fallen, covering trees and the grass in a thick blanket of white. It finally promised to be a white Christmas, and for this, she was happy.

For everything else, she was not.

"So are you going to tell me what's going on in that little pretty head of yours, or do I have to smack it out of 'ya?"

She turned on her heel from staring out the living room window, a lazy smile forming on her face as her mother looked at her in worry. "No, I'm okay, mom, really ..."

"Attie," her mother said softly, using the nickname that she, and she alone used, "I can see it in your face. I know you. I carried you nine and a half months, raised you twenty and watched you take care of yourself for the next eight. Something is up."

She frowned, giving her mother a slow shrug. "Scratch my head?"

Sighing in defeat, her mother sat down on the couch facing the bay window, lifting her arm and waiting for her grown daughter to place her head in her lap, fingers slowly weaving in and out of her hair. "Tell me what's going on, Natalie."

"Everything is going wrong, is what's going on," she said softly after a few moments of silence. "I'm sucking horribly at everything: life, friendships, work ... I don't know where or when it all started spiralling out of control, but it did and I can't gain my footing."

"I see," her mother said, Natalie knowing the gears were shifting quickly as her thought process continued, "so what happened with JC? I know this started it all."

"How do you know that?"

"Mother's intuition," she said, smirking when Natalie looked up at her, eyebrow raised, "And, maybe Cecilia told me."

"Remind me to strangle my sister."

"It was going to come out sooner or later, Natalie," her mother reminded her, "you have never kept anything from me for too long."

"I know."

"It'll all work out for the best, Natalie; it always does. I don't know why you can't just ... call him."

"It's not that easy anymore, mom," she said, pulling herself up and fixing her hair as she stood, "it's ... complex what happened between us. I don't know how to say it, but it is ..."

"If it's complex, it's because you slept with him."

"Mom!"

Her mother shrugged. "I'm just saying. Sex always makes things difficult when you're not in a relationship with that person. Especially when feelings are involved."

"Mother," she groaned, "I'm not having this conversation with you."

"Why not? You're 28, I'm 56; it's not like I'm living in the Cavemen era, I know what happens to people when they start falling for them. Lives get confusing, feelings get jumbled up and it just happens."

"Yeah, well, it was one-sided and I should have stopped it had I of known -"

"How can it be one-sided," her mother questioned, standing to look at her daughter evenly in the face, "it wasn't just coming from your side, Natalie. I saw the way he looked at you when you brought him around for the 4th of July picnic; I saw how he looked at you when you brought him home for your grandmother's birthday party. A friend doesn't just come to something like that. Someone who cares a lot about that person, who would like to spend time with that person, does. He could have just as easy went to see his one bandmate that also lives in New York; could have flown home to see his family for the holiday, but he didn't. He chose to come with you because he wanted to be near you. I don't know about you, but that's definitely called -"

"Friendship," she said, cutting her mother off, "friend in New York wasn't in New York if you remember him saying. Joey was in Italy with his wife and daughter on vacation. His mother and father were also both back in Maryland to be with Heather at some party for a relative that wasn't related to JC, himself. And before you add any other people: Justin was in LA recording with Pharell; Tyler was also in Maryland; Lance was being, well, Lance and was in California pimping himself out and Chris was back in Pittsburgh with his mom and sisters, introducing them to his new girlfriend. Anyone else you'd like to add in?"

"I swear, you get that smart ass attitude when you don't want to believe something," her mother murmured, lifting her hands up in defeat, "I'm going to start dinner. Go take a nap, you need one."

"I don't need anything."

"Right, you keep telling yourself that. Let's see how many times you look at your cell phone, waiting to see if he'll text or call you. Because, since you've gotten here, you've looked at the phone about ten times in the span of every five minutes. No, you don't care about him all, do you, Natalie?"

She looked at her mother, speechless. Not a word was said as she turned on her heel, slowly climbing the stairs to her old bedroom, hearing her mother move around in the kitchen while her father's television traveled through the floors of the hall. She had been there a little more than two hours and it already felt like eternity. This was why she never came home: her mother knew her all too well and it annoyed the hell out of her that she knew more about her just by looking at her face than she did of herself.

She closed the door gently behind her, throwing herself onto her bed and sighing deeply. The comforter still faintly smelled like the detergent her mother used, she closing her eyes and breathing deeply. Soon after, she was falling into a slumber that she had fought for so long.

"Mom! Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! Mama! Mama! Mama! Ma! Ma! Ma!"

She jolted awake to the sound of her alert on her phone, reaching blindly for the device sitting on the nightstand above her head. Pulling it down to her eye level with the pillow, her heart began to beat fast as she read the alert.

NEW TXT MESSAGE
JC
TUE, DEC 23, 2008

She didn't even want to open it. Didn't even want to know what he had to say. Nothing he said mattered to her anymore. Nothing. He could tell her that he was dying and she wouldn't care; that he was moving to Iceland and she wouldn't even blink an eye.

And that was all a lie, no matter how hard she tried to make herself believe the words she said. She'd always care, that was a weakness she'd have to live with for the rest of her life.

Yo estaré
Por siempre a tu lado
Nunca me alejaré

She felt the tears well in her eyes as she read the words, words blurred below on the screen as she took in the words he had sent to her.

I'll be forever at your side
I'll never leave.

Before she had a moment to let it settle, she received another text, this one in English and very much what she was thinking at the moment.

I need to see you. There's something
I need to say and it has to happen in person.
Why aren't you home? Where are you?

She sighed deeply, lifting the phone back up and responding.

I think we've already decided that the two of us
were better apart. Everything has been said that
needed to be said and everything that you could
even want to say to me is unwelcomed. I told you
I don't want to see you anymore, JC. I'm done
with this, with all of it. I'm sorry.

She set her phone back up onto the nightstand, getting up and stretching dramatically. It smelled of pasta sauce and garlic bread, her mouth watering at just the thought of the homemade sauce her mother was infamous for. Maybe it would all go away if she just pretended it was never around; she'd go downstairs and eat until she'd burst and go back to sleep and forget anything ever happened; forget that he happened to her.

Then her phone had to alert her with another text and take it all back from her.

We? I've never had one word to say about our
so-called 'decision'. There is still so much I have
to say to you, about what happened, about us. Do
you really think that you don't want to be around
me anymore? Because, if that's how you feel
then I'll leave it alone. But I can't leave you
alone - regardless of what you tell me to do.
Just please ... tell me where you are. I need
to talk to you, Natalie. Please.

She frowned. There went all the walls she had fought so hard to put up in the first place.

You have something to say to me? Then tell me
here, now. I really don't know what I think or
know but right now, I think it's best if we stay
away from one another until we can think
rationally. Something neither of us have
done.

She slid her phone into her pocket, rolling out of her bed and headed back downstairs towards her family's kitchen. "Ma, you need help in here?"

"No, but if you are willing, you can," she said, turning her head and looking at her daughter as she pulled the sauce off of the stove. "Set out the salad bowls, will you? Cecilia and David will be back shortly with the Merlot."

"What's the occasion? Merlot and pasta?" She looked at her mother as she pulled out wine glasses, smiling as her father as he made his way into the kitchen, inhaling deeply. "Hi, Daddy."

"Our girls are home, that's why," he answered before her mother could, placing a kiss to her forehead. "Hi, baby. You have a nice nap?"

"I didn't sleep that long, but it was all right."

He nodded. "Love will do that to you."

"Do wh - it has nothing to do with love, my lack of napping."

"Restless sleep. And yes it does," he said softly, winking as he walked over to his wife, nudging her gently as she smiled up at him, he taking the pasta into the serving bowl and grabbing the sauce just as her sister and David were heard coming through the door, she complaining as usual.

"I hate the cold! God, why did I follow Nattie up to New York after wanting to get away from here? It's so fricking cold!"

"I don't know, honey," David was heard responding, his tone light. "Because you love the lights of the city?"

"That and you couldn't stand being away from your sister!" Natalie grinned as Cecilia rolled her eyes, David taking the coat she had shrugged off, hand holding the bottle of wine. "You're actually going to drink wine?"

"It's not beer, I'll live," she chuckled. "You seem a little less cranky." Her eyes widened. "Did you talk to him?"

The room silenced as she pursed her lips, nodding. "A little. We didn't get anything established, but yeah, we've acknowledged each other again."

"That's a step in the right direction."

"Not when he's speaking Spanish at me," she murmured.

"What's that?"

"Nothing," she sighed, jumping when her phone went off again. Shit.

No se como podre yo vivir.

She thought a moment, her spanish lessons in school slowly coming back at her as she translated it into her mind, eyes widening. Good Lord, what was he doing to her? The very line alone would kill her.

I don't know how to live without you.

"You all right?"

Her head snapped up as David looked at her, eyebrow raised. Nodding quickly, she took her seat, holding the phone in her hands, looking anywhere but at the phone as she responded. This was all too crazy, too hot and cold for her.

I don't know what you want me to say, JC.
This is not going to get us anywhere if you
keep doing things like that. You want to
make a point? Make it. I don't have my
entire life to wait around for it.

"You guys ready to eat?" Her dad turned, laughing at the three younger adults already sitting at the table, he waiting for his wife to sit before he did. "Here, hand me the Merlot, I'll open it."

Cecilia handed it off to her father as she whispered something to David, they both looking at Natalie with concern. "Nat, you all right? You look a bit pale."

"I'm fine," she said softly, setting her phone down on the table next to her and between she and her sister. "It's been a rough few months is all. It's all catching up to me."

"Then tell him. Let all that weight go. It's not good on the skin."

She scoffed. "Tell him what? That's he's an idiot? That he wasn't the only one this happened to? That he's acting like he's seventeen again? Because I already have told him that and he seems to think the world revolves around him!"

"He's a man, sweetheart."

Her head jerked to her mother, David and her father both laughing at the response. "It doesn't matter what he is. He's just a dumbass and I'm sick of talking about it, so can we just drop it?"

"Ouch, all right," Cecilia murmured. "God, if I didn't know any better, I'd think ..." She stopped, looking at her sister with wide eyes. "You love him!"

"I said drop it, CeCe!"

Her sister's mouth snapped shut as Natalie threw her cloth napkin on the table, dropping her head in her hands. "Sorry, Nat."

"Whatever," she mumbled, head dropping to her hands as she rubbed her temples. "I'm getting a tension headache."

"Drink some wine, you'll forget all about the last few months," her dad smiled as he handed her a glass, she taking it and sipping the sweet liquid. "Let's stop talking about anything that's happened in the last few months and talk about what we're doing tomorrow night for Mass. Ceec, are you and David coming to Midnight Mass with us?"

"Of course we are -"

Her phone began to sing, she nearly crawling out of her skin at the designated ringer for the one person she didn't want to think about. The whole family was looking at her now, she meeting her sister's devilish eyes as she looked back, cautious. "What are you -"

Before she could finish, Cecilia had grabbed her sister's phone, she ignoring her cry of protest as she answered, voice syrupy sweet. "Hello, Cecilia speaking!"

"I seriously wish I were an only child right now," she snapped, getting up as her sister continued to talk, she wanting nothing more than to go back to bed and bury herself in her comforter, only to suffocate herself with it soon after.

"Sure, hold on! Natty, he wants to talk to you!"

She glared at her sister, wishing that the 'if looks could kill' had actually been true. If it had been, she definitely would have been a puddle of water with the ice she shot at her. "I don't want to talk to him, Cecilia."

"Too bad, 'cause he wants to talk to you!"

She ripped the phone from her sister's taunting hand, putting the phone to her ear and walking into the living room away from her family's hearing range. "What do you want, JC?"

"You told me if I wanted to say something to you to tell you," he said softly, "and I do. I have a lot to say to you."

"And you couldn't wait to talk to me in person?"

"That's the thing, Natalie," he said, voice still calm, quiet, "I haven't been able to get you in person. You've ignored every one of my calls since you left that night, and every time I show up at your apartment, you're mysteriously gone! I need to talk to you and if this is the way I have to -"

"How? What way?"

"Calling you, cornering you into talking to me like this. Talking to me after you ran."

"I didn't run."

"You ran the moment you knew I was coming to Tribeca."

"You ran the moment you found out it was me."

"All right, so what if I did? Now, here I am, crawling back to you, trying to make it right. What else is there for me to do, Natalie, huh? Sing you a song? Write you one? Post it on a billboard that I'm a bastard and don't deserve your friendship, but I want it anyway? That I want you, anyway?"

"Stop saying shit you don't mean, JC," she snapped. "Just go back to LA and forget all about me. Forget all about our friendship and anything that has ever happened between us ... good or bad."

"See, that's the thing," he said softly, "everything I've ever said, I am saying, I mean. I have searched high and low for meaning and direction on what I was feeling with what happened and how I felt about the whole thing and it's just something I need to tell you face to face."

"Yeah, well, I'm hours away and it's not going to happen," she replied. "Sorry."

"See, there's that thing, too," he said as she turned her head at the knocking on her front door, she pulling it open and meeting his face with wide eyes, "I'm only inches away and it will happen because I'm going to make it happen."

She stared at him, he standing in front of her with his cell phone to his ear, body covered in a heavy black winter jacket and a pair of blue jeans, boots covered in a thick layer of snow. "What the hell are you doing here," she hissed, she gripping her phone and the door frame, staring at him in disbelief. "How did you know I was here?"

"I'm here to fix this," he answered, "and you always go somewhere familiar when something happens. How much more familiar can you get than this?"

"I can't believe you."

"Yeah, well, I can't believe either of us," he said coolly, she shaking her head. "Are you going to let me in, or am I going to have to suffer a major case of hypothermia before you even take slight pity on me?"

She sighed deeply, stepping away from the door and letting him in as she walked away, bile rising in her throat. Now, how the hell was she going to get out of this one?!

"Nat, are you just going to continue looking at me like that or are you going to say something?"

She blinked once, twice; he was still standing there, still very much real. It had not been her imagination playing a very mean trick on her, had not been just her dreaming; she was awake, staring at the dark-haired man who stood in front of her, helpless. "I don't know what you want me to say," she said softly, eyes looking anywhere but at him. The moment he had walked into the house, she had turned on her heel quickly and walked up to her old bedroom, he following quietly. Suddenly, the walls felt like they were closing in on her.

"Natalie, please," his voice was desperate, sad. "Just say something, anything. Please."

"You tracked me down to my parents house."

"Cecilia told me you'd be here," he said softly, a small rush of relief flooding him as she finally acknowledged more than just him standing before her. "She told me you were upset, that I should be here -"

"I don't need you," she said, eyes narrowing as he took a step back, threatened by her gaze, "I never did. Who the hell are you to even think that I'd need you?"

"You're right," he said, hands going up in defeat, "you don't. But, newsflash, Natalie? I do. I need you."

"That's bullshit."

"Listen to me," he said, turning sideways to shut the door behind him to give them privacy, "I was an asshole to you. A glorified asshole, a pigheaded man -"

"At least you can admit one thing," she snapped, turning away from him as he stepped forward, grabbing her and preventing her to move as she cried out, surprised by his sudden touch. "Let go of me."

"Natalie, please. Let me try to explain this to you!"

"I don't even want to listen to you speak, JC."

"Please."

Loving you like I never have before
I'm needing you just to open up the door
If begging you might somehow turn the tides
Then tell me to, I've gotta get this off my mind.

She sat down on the edge of her bed, dropping her hands between her legs and dropping her gaze to the floor. "Fine," she said softly, her barriers slowly falling, "talk."

"Can you please just look at me while I say this? Please?" He saw her not make a move to bring her gaze back up, he stepping closer to her and touching her chin, surprised she didn't pull away from his touch. "Natalie, if I'm going to be laying my heart out on the line, I'd at least like to look at the browns of your eyes and not the brown of your hair."

He felt the air escape his lungs in a small gasp as she looked up without a fight, gaze dragging up toward his face slowly. Tears were pooled in her eyes, the browns nearly looking like a reflection off of water, few droplets easing down her chin without a swipe of her finger. He took a deep breath, preparing himself for the long monologue that he had rehearsed, repeated and rewrote numerous times in his head and aloud during the trip there. Suddenly, the words were gone, he was left with nothing but the choice to improvise.

"I had this all planned," he said softly, her eyebrows knitting in confusion, "had this all set out on how you'd react, how I'd react to that ... and now, I can't. I can't say what I had planned because none of this was planned. Us sleeping together wasn't planned. My walking out wasn't planned, and God, I regret that, but I can't take it back. I'm sorry that I walked out, but that's all I'm sorry for. I'm not sorry for anything else: our friendship, how much I care for you, none of that I'm sorry for." He stood still, waiting for his heart to calm as he closed his eyes. "I'm not sorry for falling for you months ago; for not knowing when it started, but knowing exactly when I realized. That, in itself was not planned and I'm only sorry on that account that I hadn't acted out on it sooner. Neither of us would be in this mess that we're in now." He scoffed, shaking his head sadly. "Sleeping with you wouldn't have been a masquerade in it's own right."

Won't you save me
'Cause saving's what I need
I just wanna be by your side
Won't you save me
I don't wanna be
Just drifting through the sea of life.

He watched her slowly pull herself into a standing position, face still held in the confused expression she had given him the moment he said he hadn't been sorry for anything except for the listed things. Her arms crossed at her chest, neck thrust forward as she waited for him to go on. She didn't believe him. "Natalie -"

"You came here to make me feel bad," she said, voice low, icy. "Came to make me feel more horrible that I'm spending Christmas alone and without you around, right? Because if you -"

He stepped forward, heart racing as his hands gripped the sides of her face, pulling her mouth to his. She silenced the moment he was a breath away, eyes falling closed as his lips touched hers gently, meeting ever curve and crevice of her mouth with his. The kiss was gentle and sweet, he pulling away and studying her face. "I'm right here," he said softly, "you're not alone, Natalie; you've never been alone. I've been here all this time."

She put her fist to her mouth as she looked at him, bewildered. "You just kissed me."

He couldn't help but grin at her observation, tongue snaking out and licking his bottom lip, tasting the remnants of what seemed to be Merlot from her lips off of his. "That is what they're calling it nowadays, I believe."

She shook her head, opposite hand raising and pointing a finger at him partly, other fingers lifting then as she held that hand open toward him, silencing him. "I can't ... no, you can't ... I just ... I have to go."

He looked at her, eyes widening as she grabbed the doorknob and turned, he stepped in between she and the door, leaning up against it to slam it shut. "You can't," he said softly, "I'm not done talking."

"You kissed me, JC!"

"I'm not sorry for that, either."

"It's wrong!"

He laughed. "Why are you running from the truth, Natalie? The truth you already told me? I know how you feel about me, and here I am, trying to tell you why I came back, what I feel about you, and you're trying to walk away from me!"

"Sounds kind of familiar, doesn't it," she snapped, he sighing deeply as she stood mere inches away from him, though feeling too far out of his reach.

Won't you listen please
Baby, don't walk out the door
I'm on my knees
You're all I'm living for

"I told you I was sorry for that," he sighed deeply. "I was scared, all right? This is me, we're talking about. JC Chasez, the one groupmate that the others had labeled as the permanent bachelor. The noncommitment-type. The one who got the girl and then lost her because of something he did. I don't want to lose you, Natalie. That is why I walked away. That is why I pushed myself and made myself distant. But then, something inside me clicked and I thought, 'I had it. I had what everyone had been looking for their entire lives and I just let it go with a simple close of an elevator door.' Here, I had this amazing woman who accepted me at my worst and knew me at my best; this woman who, at three o'clock in the morning, was on a plane to be with me when I heard the news that my grandmother had died; the same woman who, when I brought to Justin's New Year's Eve party, had stolen the spotlight off of his woman of the hour. I was the envy, not him. I was the one people were jabbing in the ribs with their elbows, saying they were so glad you and I were only friends because it had to be a sin to waste someone like you on someone like me, who didn't know what I'd have until it was too late." He looked at her, eyes dropping shut as he frowned. "I'm too late, aren't I?"

It was silent as the question fell into the space between them, tension slowly building as the words finally began to register in her mind. He waited for an answer, the dead quiet killing him as the vibrating of her phone went off on the bed where she had placed it, clock on the wall ticked with the seconds that seemed like hours. He swore he could hear the dead with the silence between them.

His heart was pounding, feeling as if it were in his throat, stomach knotted. Her silence was his answer. He was too late. He should have swallowed his pride a long time ago and let her know, but it was him, he wasn't like that. She was his best friend, for Pete's Sake! He crossed a line, he screwed up; now, he'd be paying for it the rest of his life.

"I need to leave," she said softly, he jumping to the side as she pulled the door open, but not before reaching for her vibrating phone. "I have to go -"

"Natty -"

"I don't know, JC," she said softly, finally finding her voice, "you hurt me when you left. You weren't the only one who went through it, but you carried on like you were. You're not the only one who threw his heart on the line and waited for it to be sliced to pieces by the other."

"No, I'm not," he said, voice calm, steady, "but neither are you. The two of us, we're not the only ones in this world who have gone through hell because of someone we cared about."

She looked down at the hand that had encircled around her wrist, his hold gentle but firm. Her eyes dragged up his arm to his face, feeling the familiar pain in her sinus that meant she would soon cry if she didn't get out of there soon. "Let go of me," she said softly, the plead shaky, "please, just let me go."

His hand released her, she stepping away from him and walking quickly through the hall and down the stairs. He heard her in the foyer, heard her call faintly to her mother or father that she was going out for a while, to not call her; he heard the gentle swoosh of the screen door, the faint click of the front door as he cringed, the soft sound like a bomb exploding in his head. His head dropped, nearly defeated. What had he expected? He threw negatives every which way at her, and suddenly, he came back groveling at her, expecting her to forget what he had said and just jump in his arms?

He knew that wasn't how it worked; that wasn't how anything worked. It took work, a simple miracle. He scoffed. It'd take more than a miracle to change her stubborn mind. A lot of coaxing, a lot of sucking up, a lot of things that could just as easy question his masculinity - but he was ready for that.

He swiped a hand down his face as he began to follow the path she had just taken, his steps sure and quick. He pulled open the door, thankful that he hadn't taken off his coat just yet, turning the knob of the front door and pushed it open, eyes darting back and forth in search for her. "Natalie," he breathed out slowly, seeing her standing on the porch, back to him. She hadn't left, she had just walked away. There was a difference; there had to be a difference. It was all he was holding on to - she had not left him.

"Go away, Jace," she murmured, arms crossed at her chest as she stared ahead of them, eyes settled on the man and woman getting out of her neighbor's car, both laughing, carrying Christmas gifts and a miniature tree towards the front door where the oldest daughter stood, smile wide as she hollered something inside, turning to watch her parents carry the things in. Happy. She wanted to be happy for Christmas - was that too much to ask for?

"You can do all you want to try and get me to go away, but I'm not going anywhere, Natalie," he swore, "not without you."

She scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief, "yeah, you should have tried to say that before you walked out the first time."

He stepped closer to her, weary of her movements, waiting to see if she'd move away; she didn't. "There are a lot of things I should have said, a lot of things that I shouldn't have said. I can't take that back, but I can fix this. I can fix us -"

"Don't try and fix something that isn't broken."

"A friendship that's just barely dangling on a loose thread isn't broken? A girl that refuses to even look at me because of things I have said isn't broken? Then what the hell am I doing here? What the hell is the real definition of broken, huh? Please, enlighten me! Let me know your wise words!"

"Fuck you," she spat, stepping away from him quickly and walking down the few stairs of her porch carefully, the snow falling slowly with mixed rain. "I don't need you, I don't need anybody."

"Natalie, I need you."

Raindrops fall from everywhere
I reach out for you, but you're not there
So I stood waiting in the dark
With a picture in my head
Story of a broken heart

"You act like you need people, but in reality, you don't. You don't need anyone. You just think that." She walked down the sidewalk, hands shoved in her pockets, intent on walking the path behind her neighbor's house to the getaway she had as a child. She needed to get away, she needed to get away from him.

"Natalie, please. Don't leave like this. Stay, please."

Stay with me, don't let me go
'Cause I can't be without you
Just stay with me and hold me close
Because I've built my world around you
And I don't wanna know what it's like without you
So stay with me
Just stay with me

He heard her mask a sob, she shaking her head and continuing to walk. "I can't. I just can't. Staying would kill me."

"Like leaving isn't killing you right now?" He felt his heart pounding as he slowly inched towards her slowing form, "like walking out of your apartment that day I found out didn't kill me? Like, holding back what I had felt for you so long didn't kill me? When I could have told you and didn't because I thought you'd deserve better than some burnt-out popstar who couldn't even make a hit record anymore? That didn't kill me?"

"And, just like everything else in our relationship, it always comes around back to you," she said harshly, voice low, unsteady. "It's always about you, you never thought about me and this is why -" she stopped, breath hiccuping, "this is why I can't stay. This is why you can't stay." She began to walk again, pace quicker. "Just go home."

"Natalie, come on," he walked quickly, nearly jogging as he grabbed her shoulder, she shrugging away from him. "Please, just -"

"Just go away."

I'm trying and hoping for the day
When my touch is enough
To take the pain away
'Cause I've searched for so long
The answer is clear
We'll be okay if we don't let it dissappear

He swallowed hard, shaking his head. "I'm afraid I can't do that."

"Why? Afraid you won't have someone to inflate your ego?" She turned to him, nearly slipping on the icy road, eyes wide and teary, "because losing something else besides everyone else in your life would mean you'd have no one?"

"No, because losing you ... losing you would be my biggest regret," he said softly, "I can't lose you, Natalie."

She crossed her arms, looking at him in disbelief. She was standing firm on trying to get him to leave, but he couldn't. He could see that she knew she was breaking, she was trying so hard to keep her barriers up, to keep the damn from breaking, but he knew he was getting there. He would break her down, get her to see what he had been trying to say, regardless of the consequences. He couldn't lose her.

"Why can't you lose me," she asked softly, unsure. "What would you do if you lost me? Move on with your life like I hadn't existed?"

"What would I do if I had lost you," he repeated, hearing the question once more in his head, "lost one of the only things in my life right now that are real? If I lost you, then it'd mean I would lose the only thing I've ever felt for someone in such a long time and I'm not sure if I want to get rid of that feeling. You've brought out a part of me I thought I locked away such a long time ago and I'm suddenly back at square one, pleading with you to not take the key and put those feelings back in that box, lock it up and throw the key into the darkness of eternity. I came here to hand you that key. What is done with that key is up to you, but I'm begging you, Natalie ... I'm begging you, don't let me get lost again. Don't give up on me."

She licked her lips, chest slowly beginning to pulse as she held back tears, held back breaths. "I have to go."

Stay with me, don't let me go
'Cause I can't be without you
Stay with me and hold me close
Because I built my world around you
And I don't wanna know what it's like without you
Stay with me
Just stay with me

I've searched my heart over
So many, many times
No, you and I, is like no stars to light
The sky at night
Our picture hangs up to remind me of the days
You promised me we'd always be
And never go away
That's why I need you to stay

"Natalie, please -"

She shook her head, walking away from him as he stood, all sense of what he had gotten through to her falling to the ground. He watched her walk down the road, watched her fall and throw her hands forward as she cried out, body nearly sprawled out as she landed on the ground. "Natalie!" He jogged quickly to her, watching as she slowly pulled herself up, reaching for her hand as she yanked herself away from him, eyes downcast as her hand held her forehead. "Jesus, Natalie," he murmured, stepping to her again and yanking her hand away from her forehead as he knelt eye level to her, investigated her face. "Did you hit your head?"

"No," she murmured, voice dripping with sarcasm, "there's just a forehead sized dent in the ice on the curb."

"Oh, you've got jokes," he said, rolling his eyes. "Can you just stop being such a smart ass so I can at least make sure you're okay," he snapped, her eyes widening and for the first time, looking at his as he surveyed the slight red rise on the center of her forehead, it only looking like a scratch. His fingers touched the skin on her head gently, pressing to see where she'd react in pain most. Both hands went to either side of her face, checking her cheeks as her eyes fell closed to his touch, the warmth in his hands as it radiated onto her skin. He felt the tear fall onto his fingers, looking at her clenched shut eyes. "Natalie, are you okay?"

Her hands shakily reached up, gripping his wrists as she shook her head, panic washing over him as she struggled to stand, he holding tightly to her as he helped her to her feet.

Stay with me, don't let me go
'Cause I can't be without you
Just stay with me and hold me close
Because I've built my world around you
And I don't wanna know what it's like without you
So stay with me
Just stay with me

Her eyes opened, looking at his as he realized what she had been talking about. "JC -"

"If I wore the mask again," he said slowly, choosing his words, "would it make this easier on you?" He saw the corners of her mouth tug up into a smile as he let a little of his own appear. "Natalie, I do care about you a lot. What happened between us has changed us ... forever, and I -"

"There's a lot we have to talk about," she agreed. "I don't ... I can't lose you, either."

"We just need to sit down and talk about this," he said softly, "I want us to be friends like we used to."

Her shoulders slumped at the realization of what he was getting to, releasing his hands and stepping away from him as he looked on, confused. "I'm going home."

"Natalie -"

"I know what you're trying to say, JC."

"No, no you don't," he said, voice rough, "you have no clue what I'm trying to say."

She scoffed. "Then fucking say it! Stop being such a pansy-ass and say it!"

He looked at her in disbelief, stepping towards her as she stood ready for attack, ready to walk away. He grabbed her by the waist, pulling her hip to hip as his hand found the side of her face and pulling her to him and kissing her. Her body lost all tension as his lips met hers, her hands gripping the openings of his jacket. He pulled away slowly, eyes half-lidded as he finally opened his mouth to speak. "Now, do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

Oh, don't leave
So I stay waiting in the dark ...

She stood frozen in her stance, lips sucked inward at the feel of his, they tingling and numb from the cold being relieved by the warmth, his smell radiating her senses. He stood in front of her, breathing labored, eyes set on hers as she tried to think of words to say, an ice breaker that wouldn't make her feel like an awkward teenager. This was her best friend. Her best friend had just kissed her and was now waiting on her reaction. Her reaction other than the response she had given him when he put his lips against hers.

Jumping at the ring of her cell phone, she looked down, seeing her sister's name grace the front of the screen as she sighed deeply. This was the wet blanket in the snow - the one thing that would ruin it. His shoulders slumped as he saw her attention go elsewhere, she knowing that it had been ruined. The moment she thought might have been something she could only have imagined happening was ruined. It was only her imagination.

"I have to go," she said softly, eyes still settled on the phone in her hand, "have a safe trip back home, JC."

"Natalie," he said softly as she began to walk away, "where are you going?"

"I have to leave and go help set up dinner at the church," she said softly, "CeCe and I do it everytime we're in town." She was ignoring his slow steps behind her, trailing her as she made her way back to her home. He stood at the bottom of the sidewalk as she stepped to her car, waiting for Cecilia to leave the house and get into the passenger seat, closing the door quickly and without a word. "I'm sorry, if that means anything." She got in, not waiting for him to respond to her as she shut the door and started the car, pulling out of the driveway and meeting his confused gaze before she pulled out, he awkwardly standing there, unable to say anything.


"And he just kissed you? You didn't say anything to him?!"

She placed silverware down on the table ontop of the napkins, shaking her head. "What could I say? We were in the middle of arguing, I demanded he tell me what he was getting at and he just ... did it. I didn't have time to respond to it when you called me."

"If I had known that's what had gone down, I would have come here myself," she said softly, Natalie shaking her head. "What?"

"It's like ... it's like a worn welcome," she said softly, trying to explain, "you know how someone comes around so much and you enjoy their company, but all of a sudden, it's like they're just trying to make you claustrophobic, or it's just something that suddenly bothers you that they come around. That's how it is now. That's what we were to each other; we needed the space just as much as we needed each other. I just think the space is more welcomed than us being friends again, or whatever we were. I think he's had enough of me, had enough of us. Otherwise, he never would have left in the first place."

Cecilia looked up at her side of the table, looking at her sister in disappointment. "Then what is your excuse? Why did you leave him this time? He came around, didn't he? He came around because it's you he wants, nothing else. He wants to be with you, Natalie; he doesn't care what happened on Halloween and he doesn't care what was said. All he cares about is you."

"I know," she said softly, "I care about him, too, but -"

"Everything before the 'but' is bull sh-" her sister stopped, catching her swearing in the church hall, "is not the truth, so spit out what you mean, Attie."

Natalie put what she held in her hands down, wiping her clammed hands on the apron tied around her waist. "What I mean, is that I care about him too much to put my heart in his hands. I care about him more than he wants to care about me and I know I'll end up getting hurt in the end. I fell in love with him, he fell for the idea of being able to be with the person he thought he wanted that night. It's not me he wants, it's the made-up vision of the girl he met and Lord, forgive me, hooked up with in an elevator shaft. I'm not who he wants."

"Then," Cecilia said softly, voice trailing off as she nodded behind her sister, "why is he here now?"

All the color drained from Natalie's face as she swallowed the lump in her throat, looking at her sister, searching for any sign that she was just jerking her chain. The chain, she hoped that her sister had a tight hold on, was not there as she turned around slowly, body beginning to shake in panic as she met his eyes. "I thought you went home," she said softly, voice barely audible as he leaned his head forward, straining to hear what she had said. "That was it. You left."

"You never let me finish what I was trying to explain," he said, watching as she looked over at her sister who was trying to look anywhere but at the two of them and then towards the door. She was making an escape plan; she wanted nothing to do with listening to him explain all that he felt. All that he felt could consist of a lifetime, or three simple words - three simple words that were like word vomit to him when he was younger; he didn't say it as often as most people did.

He watched her without moving his head as she walked past him, watched her grab her coat and begin to walk down the hall towards the large, heavy double doors, following her with a thousand things racing in his mind. Of all the things he wanted to say, to spit out so that she'd understand, he could only manage to say, and quite loudly, was 'I love you'."

He froze, heart racing as he saw her entire body pause, arm half in, half out of the heavy coat, one hand on the door, ready to push it open. "Natalie -"

"What did you just say?"

He licked his lips, she still facing away from him as the phrase ran back and forth in his head, on the tip of his tongue like it were the high-dive, waiting to take the jump, ready to lunge hands, arms, head first into the deep end. This was it. He, along with that phrase, dove. Inhaling slowly, he repeated what he had said, voice shaky. He was a man, a man in all terms, but he couldn't help the sudden burning in his nose as the tears started to form in his eyes. She had brought him to this, brought a grown man to an emotional state that he only imagined happening to men who were truly in love, who were watching the love of their lives stand before them at the altar, bear their child - but she was neither of those. She was not marrying him, not giving him a child, she was giving him a chance. A second chance to say what he felt - she may have not been in a wedding or hospital gown, but he did love her, he was in love with her. She was the love of his fucking life.

"I said, I love you, Natalie." He stood his ground, refusing to step closer or further away from her, watching her for a response. Slowly, her hand fell from the door, followed shortly by her head. She had given up on leaving. She wasn't leaving. "You might find it hard to believe, but I love you. I love you more than you want to believe, more than you thought I'd ever love you. I love you like those sappy love songs I always write, all those love songs you sing when you think I'm not paying attention. I love you like," he paused, trying to think of a good example, "like Chandler loved Monica. He loved every little quirk, every little antic that could drive another man wild. Loved that he looked at her as his best friend, as this truly amazing woman he was blessed to have in his life and though he was afraid and paranoid to admit it at first, he truly loved her. He loved that she cooked for him, that sometimes, she let him cook with her. That, despite all that they had gone through, it still lead him to the same person that he belonged with. You are my Monica, Natalie," he said softly, shaking his head and laughing at his comparison, "God help me for watching that show with you for so long, but it fit. You are my Monica Gellar. You are my crazy, sometimes a little too set in your ways Monica.

"Our sudden ... get-together might not have occurred in London, but it happened and I'm not going to brush it under the rug. It happened, and I'm not going to act as if it hadn't. If it hadn't of happened, I might not have come to the realization that I did as quickly as I did. I want to be your Chandler. I want to be your sometimes paranoid, sometimes scared of commitment, but never afraid to show how he feels Chandler. I want you, Natalie. I don't know how much more clear I can make this, but if I have to, I will. I'll do it forever if I have to."

She turned finally, he sucking in a breath as he saw the tears pooled at the lids of her eyes as she blinked, letting them release down her cheeks. Her face was blank, minus the tears that could have meant more than just sadness. He saw the browns of her eyes magnified by the teardrops, saw her tongue dart out and slowly lick her dry lips. What he didn't see, was her response. "Say it again," she said softly, he raising his eyebrows in confusion, "say what you first said to me, not your whole Chandler-Monica speech."

He cleared his throat, confused, "Natalie -"

"Just say it," she stepped towards him, his eyes widening as she closed the space between them, her eyes going from his mouth and waiting to see the words form from behind his lips and to his eyes that never left her face. "JC, please."

He felt her lean into him as her hands slid down his forearms, fingers lacing with his open hands. Locking her fingers between the spaces of his own, he felt as if it were the piece that had been missing; her hands fit his perfectly, her body fit his like a worn glove. She was it. As much as he had wanted to run, there was no other place that he wanted to be than there with her in that moment. His fingers closed over hers, saying what she had pleaded with him to say once more. "I love you, Natalie."

The smile slowly formed on her face as the words registered once more, it reaching her eyes as tears began to form once more. She kissed him, kissed him like she had wanted to for so long and never could because he had been a royal jerk, it soft and deep but full of need. She needed him. As much as she told him to leave, the one part in her always hoped that he would argue with her, that he'd stand and stay because he knew that was what she wanted. He was right: he may have left before, but he was here now and that was all that mattered to her.

She heard her sister clear her throat, the kiss slowly breaking as her eyes traveled to Cecilia, she leaning up against the doorframe, amused. "I hate to break it to you guys," she said, voice lowering, "but you are in a church. Fornification begins in the bedroom, Forgiveness begins at church. Not the other way around."

Natalie laughed, red creeping up her cheeks as she buried her face in his jacket, his arms splayed across her back, holding her protectively. "Then," he responded softly, "Cecilia, I hope you can hold up fort on your own." He stepped away from her, she looking at him in confusion as his eyes met hers, the blue suddenly darkening, a different kind of emotion behind them now. "We have gotten over the forgiveness, so now we must leave and go over the other."

Cecilia laughed, shaking her hand away in a dismissal. "Mom and dad are on their way here with David; the house is all yours. If they ask, I'll say you left to go talk to JC over coffee."

"I'm not seventeen, Ceece," Natalie said, arching an eyebrow, "you don't have to cover for me."

"Well, it's either that or you have daddy knocking on your door to make sure you're okay."

Natalie nodded, "all right, touche." She felt her heart flutter when his hand tightened it's grip on hers, looking up at him as his eyes still held the dark color in comparison to the naturally light and almost green tone. She licked her lips, turning and walking away with him leading her towards his car. "I can't believe you drove all the way here," she said softly as he opened the passenger door for her, he turning to look at her with a certain light in his eyes that she never wanted to see gone, "that you came here ... just for me."

"There are a lot of things I'd do for you, Natalie," he said softly, he leaning down and placing a soft kiss to her lips, breaking it quickly and placing another to them, "c'mon, it's freezing."

She nodded, watching as he crossed around the front of the car and stood across from her, meeting her gaze in a questioning look. She swallowed, nose burning from the cold as she found her voice once more, afraid that she might lose it again, "I love you, too."

Any tension that seemed to have been carried on his face melted away at her comment, he pointing downward through the hood of the car, "get in the car, Natty," he said softly, it a gentle demand that she listened to, just barely shutting the door when his hand closed over her free one, pulling her to him and pressing his lips to hers. Once the kiss broke, his hands came to either side of her face, eyes burning into hers, "thank you for not hating me after all of this," he said, she nodding as he pulled away, starting the car and blasting the heat to ease the frigid cold that had began to numb his fingertips. He laughed, rubbing his hands together, "And you spent twenty years living here? Freezing your ass off?!"

"I loved it here," she said, softly, eyes cast out her window as she watched the snow fall, "I'd like to move back someday."

He smiled inwardly, taking one last look at her before pulling out of the parking lot and heading back towards her home a few minutes away. He just hoped that once they went through the threshold, awkwardness would not begin to fill the room with a thick tension and neither would be able to say what they wanted.



"You want anything to drink?"

He looked over at her, she pulling off her coat as she walked into the kitchen, voice distant as she rummaged through her cupboard for glasses. "I'll take whatever," he said in response, eyes casting ocer towards the upright piano in the corner of the room, Christmas music scattered all over the floor near it and on the music stand in front of it, a smile forming on his face as he walked towards it, sitting down on the bench and pressing his fingers gently against the ivories. He remembered her telling him that her mother had been a choir teacher before becoming the music teacher at the local elementary school, how she always had been playing when she was younger until her fingers began to ache so much that the arthritis had given her a very small chance of ever playing for longer than five to ten minutes at a time before excruciating pain began to throb within her joints.

He looked up, the smile widening at the sheet music in front of him, a favorite of his settled on the top. Playing a few notes, he heard her move from behind him, he turning to see her standing with two glasses of wine in her hands. "I know you're a beer drinker, but I figured that it's Christmas Eve and it's a little more classier of a day," she said softly, chuckling as he took one from her hands, "that, and that's all we have in the house, since that is all my parents drink."

"Wine is good," he said softly, take a slow drink of it as he watched her over the rim of the wine glass. She was curling herself up into a ball, blanket over her legs as she cradled the glass between her hands and looked at him. "What?"

"Well, aren't you going to play?" She sipped her wine, cracking a smile as he turned back around wordlessly, suddenly nervous with her eyes on the back of his head. This was a new feat. "Same song you were playing, Jace."

"Patience, oh-impatient one," he said softly, hearing her chuckle, "I'm getting there."

"We both know that I have more patience than you do," she said, "I could wait forever."

She may have meant to hear him play the song, but the words that escaped her mouth made his entire chest feel warm as a broad smile formed on his face. "You know, I could, too."

"Maybe for different things," she said softly, he hearing her move from behind him, "but other things, I don't think you would."

"Like my career," he said, scooting over on the bench as she sat down next to him, playing the lower notes to his higher on the piano. "Like, deciding ... things."

"What made you decide with ... things?"

He shrugged slowly, looking at her in confusion as she gripped the hand closest to hers, lifting it from the keys and tucking her body underneath it, he moving as far back on the bench as he could as she set on the very edge of the bench between his legs just barely on the uncomfortable wood seat. "Those things," he breathed softly, "weighed heavily on my shoulders for a very long time."

She leaned her head back, it resting on the curve of his neck and shoulder, eyes half-lidded as she continued to play, his hands idle onto of her graceful fingers. His breathing was even as she continued to play the introduction to the song, her head lulling to the side closest to his mouth as he began to sing softly, his voice like a children's lullaby.

The song finished shortly after, she still leaning into him as his hands laced through the tops of hers, pulling them to their bodies. "I was always afraid of being hurt," he finally responded, "of losing someone who meant so much to me that I never let myself see something in them that I was always looking for. I saw that I was beginning to see you like that and I started making excuses, little lies to turn me off of those feelings. Then, Halloween happens and I'm like, ecstatic that I can finally put all my energy in finding this woman. Great, I think. And then, it's you. You are that woman and everything just changes. I got angry. More so at myself than at you, at the issues suddenly running around in my head. I ran from myself, my heart ... you. I didn't want us to be a disappointment, I didn't want to lose you as the person I held you so dearly as. I left to clear my brain of all the thoughts of that night, to clear my head completely of how I felt about you. I held you at a distance and yet, when I look back, I held you so closely that I don't know why I didn't see how I was blindly falling for you without even realizing it."

He sighed deeply, leaning his head into hers and placing his hands on the ivories again, pressing a few notes before stopping. "And then, I'm in the studio with Tony, whom I haven't talked to in nearly a year ... and we're just dabbling with that song we wrote together. He goes to me, 'you know, the best part of that song is the story of every lovelorn man's life.' I, of course, have no idea what he's talking about so he starts to sing it and it clicked. It fucking clicked. That song, that song was written with the thought of you weighing heavily on my mind ... even before I really knew you, really knew how I felt about you. Like they said, 'every single person has the love life they want' and I depended solely on myself for so long that it was what I wanted for the rest of my life: I didn't want to have anyone to depend on, to depend on me; I didn't want to have to love someone else, just be selfish and keep it all to myself. Then, this quirky, baking, chick-flick freak of a girl comes into my life with this dark brown hair and these big, brown eyes and I think to myself that I can still have that life, I can still have this beautiful girl as a friend and still be a selfish bastard. All comes tumbling down and I'm alone again and I realized I don't want to be alone. I don't want to be alone unless I'm with you. I held onto you so tightly that I thought I let you slip away. And yet, here I am and here you are ..."

She smiled against his face near his jaw, eyes still watching his fingers on the piano. "Sing the story," she said softly, he humming in confusion as a response. "The song you were talking about."

He nodded against her forehead, keys pressing down once more and playing the sweet melody that she knew off by heart.

It's amazing how we fear, we may be
It's from ourselves we so often run
Abandon fear and consequence of heartbreak
Expose the truth and give yourself to love

We've all been set up to be disappointed
We have to crawl before we learn to fly
It's the blur that moves right into focus
Removes the doubt, aligns your heart and mine

He continued to play the notes softly, unsure of what to say as she sat there, eyes watering and slowly falling, pooling to the fabric of his sweater. "JC," she said softly, he letting his fingers fall from the keys and to his lap as she pulled her face away from his, studying his face. "Why couldn't you talk to me about it?"

"Because that would have made it real," he said softly, eyes slowly dragging up to hers, "because then I would have known that there was no turning back. I needed that exit, I needed that escape in case it would all blow up in my face."

"You weren't the only one holding on."

He smiled weakly, turning his head fully and kissing her. He gripped her hands, stopping her. "Wait," he pulled away, standing up as she sat, watching him in curiosity. He reached forward, taking her hand and pulling her to him. "That was uncomfortable," he chuckled, she smiling as she looked at him. "We have a lot of weeks to catch up on," he said softly as she nodded. "But it's going to take some time, I'm not rushing this."

She eyed him, tugging on his hand for him to follow her. "We've got a long time to catch up. I'm not worried about that."

"Then what are you -"

She turned to look at him over her shoulder as she pulled him up the stairs and down the hall towards her bedroom, eyebrow raised. "A typical man would know what I was doing. You are a man, right?"

He laughed slightly, shaking his head in disbelief as she pushed open her door, he pushing it shut once he was in. As soon as the satisfying click met her ears, she was against him, hands gripping onto his waist as she kissed him fiercely, the smile creeping against his lips as she soon released his waist and let her hands drop between them, popping the button open on his jeans and pulling the zipper down. "Natalie, you're crazy."

"Maybe."

He sucked in a breath, feeling her hands meet the sensitive flesh confined behind the denim. "It ... it's a good crazy," he added, head dropping back up against the door as she tugged his pants further down, already painfully erect. He let out a quiet gasp as the warmth of her mouth closed down around the head of his dick, looking down at her as she chuckled. "What's so funny?"

She pulled away, he already missing the heat that her body gave him. "It's not funny, it's just ... well, I'm pretty sure that I've got the answer to whether or not you're a man or not."

"In which case, I am."

She grinned, holding firmly to the base as she licked it painfully slow, mouth closing over the head once more as his hands reached downward, gripping her hair as she continued her ministrations. She began to pump him, head moving in time with her hand movements, he feeling close to the edge already, his release boiling. His hips bucked, trying to contain himself as she pulled away, a satisfying pop coming from her mouth as she let go of her suction, standing up and meeting his gaze. "I think you're an even bigger man than most."

Groaning as she winked at her slight tease, he reached down, tugging at the hem of her top and pulling it over her head. His hands immediately went for the pale red lace of the bra she wore, cupping her breasts and running the pads of his thumb over the centers. He placed hot, open-mouthed kisses to her flesh and between the valley of her breasts, hands pushing her gently backward and toward the bed. "I'm going to do this right, Natalie," he said softly, holding himself above her on his hands as she unhooked her bra, pulling it from her body, his eyes traveling downward and licking his lips. "This isn't just some release I need because some beautiful, witchy stranger gave me attention as just a male and not who I am."

"Then do it," she murmured, reaching up and cupping his face, "have sex with me."

He shook his head, her eyes squinting in confusion. "I won't have sex with you," he responded, hands going down to the black dress pants she wore, slowly unbuttoning them and then removing his own shirt, "as cheesy as it sounds, I'm going to make love to you."

She smiled up at him, lifting her hips as he pulled the pants and her panties off her body slowly, groaning at the skin-to-skin contact she had made. He leaned down, pressing kisses to her collarbone and neck, bringing his mouth down onto hers as his hand opened her legs, he bringing his body inbetween hers, rubbing intimately against her. "Natalie," he whispered, she holding onto his head at the base of his neck, eyes fluttered shut at his touches, "Natalie, look at me."

She opened her eyes, turning her head to meet his gaze as she gasped slightly as he pushed himself into her, his eyes never leaving hers. "Jace -"

"I love you."

Her eyes welled up as he turned so that he was directly above her, now holding his body up by his forearms, his thrusting deliberate and slow, rocking against her as her let out tiny cries, pulling his head down to hers and kissing him passionately. "God, Jace," she sucked in a breath, breathing shallow, "I love you, too."

He grinned, his thrusts meeting her hips in a rhythm, hand dropping between them as he stroked her intimately, her hips bucking at just the slightest touch. She was close, so close; he wondered why they hadn't begun this earlier. Her voice brought him back down to earth, the feeling burning deep in his belly bringing his thrusts quicker, harder.

"Jace, I'm almost there," she murmured, gripping onto him tightly, nails digging into his back. She cried out his name, nearly frantic as she came, his own release building quickly as he tried to hold off for a few more moments, nearly collapsing against her as he came. "Good God," she mumbled, pulling him to lie down on her, chest against chest. "I might have to keep you."

He laughed, feeling one hand weave through his hair as the other gripped his back. He inhaled slowly, trying to catch his breath as he traced beads of sweat on her chest, the body heat between them immense. "Good, because I've got you now, Natalie, I'm not letting you go."