****

*Clang*

The sound of her keys hitting the wooden floor, and the sharp intake of air that followed afterwards, caused the two, who were half-naked at the moment, to spring apart from one another, startled.

"Melissa," they both exclaimed simultaneously as Melissa, too shocked to speak, stood under the threshold of the door, looking from her fiancee to her best friend, who she had just caught in bed together. "we can explain."

"Hey green eyes, table seven!"

Melissa was knocked out of her flashback as she realized, not only, was her boss, Mr. Murphy, yelling at her, but her coworker, Sam, was trying to tell her that table seven was ready to order.

"Sorry!"

Moving quickly, she sped-walked towards her section of the dining-room hall, only stopping to pick up her notebook pad and pen as well. "Hello, I'm Melissa, and I'll be your server today."

The three men, who had been busy eying a group of ladies at another table, looked up at Melissa, and one by one started to grin. "Well, hello Melissa, my name's Tony, and whatever you're serving, I'd like a double." The oldest guy, who was also the closest to her, stated, before giving her a once-over, and licking his lips; an action which caused his friends to laugh at, amused.

Blushing at the statement, Melissa opened her mouth to continue on with what she had to say, but before she could do so another voice spoke up, interrupting her "Then I guess you'd like a double order of pea soup...."

Melissa turned around to see Sam glaring down at the guys with a fake smile on her face. "And the rest of your friends would like some wine to go with that corny ass cheese line."

Tony blushed as his friends began to laugh hysterically. "Umm.."

Rolling her eyes, Sam continued on, smiling sweetly nonetheless. "Close your mouth, boy. You'll catch flies."

With that being said, Melissa watched in awe as Sam pivoted on her heels, making her way back towards the kitchen; before turning back towards, the still embarrassed, Tony and his, still laughing friends; telling them their order would be ready shortly.

Groaning as the alarm clock beside him beeped, Lance quickly hit the machine, turning the annoying thing off.

Sinking further down in his sweat covered sheets, he briefly wondered why he had even set the contraption the night before; knowing full-well he had nothing planned that day.

Must still be on Nsync time.

Just as the thought left his head, and he prepared himself to go back to sleep, the voice from last night entered his mind; answering the silent question that hadn't been asked. "Right..I remember. So I could find that girl."

With a slight smirk on his face, Lance sit up on his bed, yawning as he wordlessly ran a hand through his unkept hair, "Somebody needs a haircut."

Sighing as he removed his hand from his hair, he noticed the sunlight, from outdoors, leaking through the window. He figured he could only imagine what part of town the mysterious woman lived in and would probably have to get his bodyguard to go with him in search of the brunette.

That, unfortunately, probably going to be easier said than done.

****

After taking a quick shower, the enthusiasm that Lance had held the night before, while planning the approach he would use when meeting the mysterious singer, caused him to be slightly jumpy as he knocked on his bodyguard's door.

"I knew I should've went back to sleep." He said, to himself, sighing as he realized it was only nine forty-five, and Mike might not be awake yet.

Fortunately for him though, his thoughts seemed to be wrong as the door in front of him opened, revealing a more than awake bodyguard.

"Bass, what the hell are you doing up?" Mike, Lance and Chris's larger than life-six-foot four-bodyguard asked. Afterwards, moving sideways to give Lance a little bit more room to squeeze through. "Isn't it a rule somewhere that when you guys are on vacation, you can't and mustn't be moved from whomever's bed you're sleeping in. No matter what the circumstance is."

"First of all," Lance began, walking towards the middle of the room; waiting until Mike had shut the door from any hallway passerby's before continuing, "that rule only applies to JC and Justin. And second of all, the line about whomever's bed you're sleeping in... that one is in the handbook under Joey Fatone not James Lansten Bass. Thank-you-very-much!"

"Oh, you're right. I must be losing my mind at the young age of thirty." Mike retorted, jokingly, before making his way over to Lance; taking a seat on the chair next to his unmade bed, "So, what's up? What can I do you for?"

Lance shrugged, as he absentmindedly moved his eyes around the room; searching for something to throw in anger if Mike wouldn't grant him his wish, "Nothing really, I just need a favor."

"What kind of favor?" Mike asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity at the younger male's worried expression, "And if it has anything to do with money, no can do. I'm not getting paid enough for handouts."

Lance wanted to throw out that Mike wasn't getting paid anything, but he bit back the comeback; deciding that in getting what he wanted, he'd have to be honest. "I want to go out."

"Well then, why didn't you just say so. Let me just grab my-"

"Alone. I want...no, I NEED to go out alone." Lance interrupted; causing the older man to look at him like he had just said 'he wanted to strip down naked, and do the holy dance'.

"Are you out of your mind?" Mike asked, taking his hands away from the night stand, where his wallet laid, "You know I can't do that. I don't even know why you'd....wait, does this have anything to do with that girl we heard sing last night...Melissa?"

"Melissa?" Lance asked, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion "That's her name?"

"YES, that's her...never mind, just never mind." Mike said, letting out a frustrated sigh, before closing his eyes; running a hand over his forehead, angrily, "Just..just tell me why you think you need to go out alone, and please spare me the bull shit about it being easier for you to go out alone than with a big black strong man. I've heard enough stories from Justin."

Dammit. Lance said, inwardly; frowning to himself. That remark having been the only line he had thought up that morning.

Sighing, he realized there was no way of getting out of the bodyguard thing.

Unless...

"How would you feel about wearing makeup?"

Sighing as she plopped down at one of the empty tables in her section, Melissa could hardly believe it was finally 'break time'.

"I want to go to bed."

"Ah-ah-ah, there's no sleeping on Murphy's clock. He'd yell at you faster than you could say 'just resting my eyes, sir'."

Laughing slightly at the remark, Melissa opened her eyes, from their slightly closed state, and watched silently as Sam hopped in the booth across from her.

"So, what's shaken, newbie? How ya like your first day on the job?"

Shrugging slightly, Melissa let out the yawn that had been threatening to come out of her ever since she had arrived at the coffeehouse 5 hours ago. "Excuse me....It's okay, a little bit different from my old job at the Pancake House, but it has it's pluses."

"Yeah, if by pluses you mean free bagels." Sam joked, causing Melissa to laugh, once again. That is, almost causing her to laugh once again, if not for the large yawn that took a hold of Melissa shortly beforehand, "So, what's the deal with you? You look like a well enough kid, what are you doing in a dump like this?"

Blinking back the tears, that were caused by the yawning, Melissa shrugged once again; this time because of the fact she was feeling slightly uncomfortable with the line of questioning her coworker was heading towards. "The same thing you're doing here; making an honest living."

After chuckling at Melissa's words, Sam brought her hands up in front of her face as if to say I surrender, "Whoa there, didn't mean to step on private property. I got to hand it to ya, though, most people would've just let me sit here digging through their trash."

Furrowing her eyebrows at the statement, Melissa looked at the woman confused, but then realized that the older woman must've meant that if she hadn't stopped her, Sam would've continued to ask questions. "Well, I'm not like most people."

"That you aren't, kid. That you aren't."

Before Melissa could ask Sam what she meant by those words, her attention was diverted as she eyed the flirtatious man from before, out of the corner of her eye, making his way towards their table.

"Uh-oh."

"Huh?.....Tony! You're early." Sam said, getting out of the booth Melissa and her were sitting in, and throwing her arms around the man's neck; embracing him with as much strength as she could, and confusing Melissa with as much power as she could.

"You two know each other?" Melissa asked, after a second; watching the two grown adults in front of her giggle and flirt with one another as if no one was around.

"Of course we know each other, silly. Hell, we've been married for the past six years." Sam retorted, smiling proudly as she showed off the diamond wedding band, that Melissa hadn't noticed until now.

"But before...?" Melissa began; remembering how Sam had treated her husband, in question, as if he was a no good bum she had just met off the street.

"You'll have to excuse my wife," Tony chimed in, with a voice that sounded eerily different from the one he had used earlier when pretending to hit on her, "She sometimes likes to pull me in and play pranks on the new waitresses. This one, not being as bad as the usual stuff she has me do, if you don't mind me saying."

"Hey! It's not like you don't have any fun, buck-o." Sam said, getting an 'I can't disagree' shrug in return from her husband, and an 'I can't believe this' stare from Melissa. "Sorry if I upset you. I have, what they call, a sick sense of humor."

Melissa shook her head as if to say 'it's okay', but couldn't help but, inwardly, agree with Sam. The woman did have one sick sense of humor. Melissa had never met ANYONE who had thought having their husband hit on a stranger was funny. Comical at that.

"So, you ready to go, Bonnie?" Tony asked, his voice snapping Melissa out of her thoughts.

"Whenever you are, Clyde." Sam answered, mischievously winking at her husband, before turning her attention back towards Melissa, "You care to join us for some high-fashion bank robbing, Lyss?"

While shaking her head no, Melissa couldn't help but smile slightly at the couple's pet names for one another. Figuring from what she had seen so far, the names fit them to a T. "That's okay, I'd prefer my breaks to be bullet proof free, but thanks for asking."

"Don't mention it, party pooper," Sam remarked, before fully turning away from Melissa, and hitting her husband with a coy grin, "Whadda ya say we hit the road, Jack?"

"After you, my little love shack." Tony chimed in, never missing a beat.

And with that being said, Melissa watched as the couple made their way out of the small restaurant; both singing off-key to the 80's hit song 'Love Shack' while, gracefully, ignoring the patrons who looked at them in disbelief.

"A match made in laughter..that's what they are."

Glancing up at the overhead clock on the wall, Melissa sighed as she blew away the loose strand of hair that threatened to fall out of it's hair clip and into her eye.

'One more hour to go.. just one more hour.'

"Would you like cream or sugar with that, sir?"

"Uh...I'll take cream."

Nodding while writing the order down, Melissa turned her body towards the other occupant of the booth; never looking up from her pad of paper as she did so, "And you, what would you like, ma'am?"

"That's SIR, not ma'am." A deep voice boomed, causing Melissa to look up in surprise and bite her inner cheek in disbelief as she noticed the person, dressed in, what looked to be, a 'Sunday's best' dress, was indeed a man, and not what she had assumed; a woman.

"Oh..I-I 'm sorry. Excuse me, sir." She said, trying hard not to laugh at the poor makeup job the man had, "What can I get you..sir?"

The man grumbled at her amused expression, but quickly rambled off his order; telling her he'd like two bagels: one with butter, the other with cream cheese, and a black coffee; no sugar or cream.

"I'll be right back with your order.....sir."

Turning around, quickly, Melissa couldn't get away fast enough before she nearly collapsed in laughter.

"Oh my God!" She exclaimed, spying on the man in drag, silently from her spot behind the kitchen walls, "Wait till I see Sam."

****

"Did you see the way she looked at me? The girl nearly broke her ankle trying to get away from here so she could laugh in private. I can hear her now, probably calling her little girlfriends, telling them about the 'freak' she just saw."

Rolling his eyes, Lance adverted his eyes from the direction where the waitress had just walked in towards the man, who sit across from him, now complaining about his panty-hoes. "Take it easy, Mike. You don't look that bad...I mean, besides the bad makeup job, you could possibly pass for Rupaul..in heat."

Mockingly laughing at the man's joke, Mike threw the balled up napkin he was holding, at Lance's head, hitting him in the forehead, "Yuck it up, solider, cuz as soon as you tell this girl who you are, and why you had me search the whole God damn tri state area of New Orleans, we're going back to the hotel, and I'm taking this dress off and kicking your ass."

Chuckling at his bodyguard's discomfort, Lance turned his attention back towards the counter area of the small restaurant; waiting for 'Melissa' to come back with his coffee.

'All right Bass, you came this far, just remember to use your head, go with the plan, and charm the pants off your soon to be first pop star client.'

"Here's your coffee, and....here's your bagel's." Melissa said, causing Lance to jump, startled, since he had been caught up in his pep-talk when the, what looked to be, younger woman, had made her way towards their table. "Are you all right, sir?"

"Yeah, I was just..." Lance began, but quickly realized that all common thought was gone as he made eye contact with the girl; losing himself in her dark green eyes, "wondering if you wanted to go to Orlando with me."

***