~~~~~*~~~~~

Lisa let out a deep, contented breath and smiled over at Joey as they sat together on the beach. Their shoes were discarded at their side and they had their feet half buried in the warm, dry sand. Wordlessly, Joey leaned across and planted a kiss on her lips.

"I love you,” Lisa said as he pulled away and she reached out a hand to brush her fingertips across his bristled chin. Joey smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

"What’s wrong, Joe?” Lisa asked as she regarded his face carefully. It wasn't like him to be silent after she told him that she loved him. He usually said the words straight back to her without hesitation. Adding to her concern, he remained silent.

"What is it?” She said as a frown crossed her brow. So far, she'd been having a lovely evening, and she hoped that Joey wasn't going to ruin it for her by keeping secrets. If there was something wrong then she wanted to know.

"Come on, Joe. Something’s going on in that head of yours. Tell me.”

Joey opened his mouth to speak but at the last minute seemed to change his mind. He closed his mouth and pulled his lips together into a hard line. Lisa felt her stomach flip with anxiety and her mind ran into overdrive as she tried to contemplate what was upsetting him so much that he couldn't tell her.

"Seriously, Joey. You’ve never been this silent in all the time that I’ve known you. I swear to God, if you don’t start talking I’m going to slap you silly!”

~~~~~*~~~~~

Several hours and bottles of wine later, a few stragglers remained in the living room of Clare and Libby’s apartment.

Jamie, Chris and Sara had all fallen asleep in various locations around the apartment, and being a gentleman, Lance had left to drive Jenny back to the college dorms. Only Justin, Libby, Jason, JC and Clare were left.

"Ok–ay," Clare said sleepily as she reached out to poke JC on the leg. He'd moved to sit on the arm rest next to her after he'd lost the feeling in the lower half of his body from sitting in an uncomfortable position on the floor for too long.

Clare, meanwhile, had been waiting to go to bed for at least an hour, but having enjoyed the company of her friends she hadn't wanted to be the one to break up the party. Now that she was slouched comfortably on the couch, she still wasn't sure that she had the will power to get up and go and get some much needed sleep.

"It's time I was goin’ to bed,” she explained as she attempted to stand up. Instead of remaining upright, however, she fell straight back into her chair not a second or two later. "Ooh! Maybe not!” She laughed as she became aware for the first time the effects that the wine had taken on her body.

"Come on,” JC said with a laugh as he held out both his hands to help her sit up. He was slightly better at holding his alcohol than she was but even he slurred a little as he spoke.

"I’ve only had four glasses of wine,” Clare said as she tried to convince herself that she wasn't really drunk. She placed both her hands in JC's and allowed him to pull her upright. "Why is it that I can't feel the bottom half of my body?" She asked him.

"It’s fourteen percent proof wine!” Libby sniggered from across the room as she watched Clare with amusement. "And you’ve had six glasses, not four.”

Clare staggered forwards slightly as she tried to keep her balance, but managed to remain on her feet. Once relatively stable, she narrowed her eyes at Libby. "Who’s counting?" She asked sarcastically.

Libby—who like Justin had stuck to soft drinks all evening—was feeling the effects of tiredness creeping over her but was still mentally alert. She'd enjoyed watching Clare let her hair down, especially as it rarely happened any more. Clare was so busy with work that she often seemed to forget that there was more to life than being stuck behind a computer screen.

"Let me help you,” JC ordered Clare as she lost her balance once again and toppled back onto the couch for the second time. She slapped her hands onto her thighs and let out a huff of frustration. As JC reached his hands out to her once again, she playfully pushed them away.

"I’m nearly up,” She argued, causing Libby to burst into a fresh round of giggles.

Ignoring her protests, JC reached forward and pulled her upright once again before tucking his arm under hers and placing a hand on her back. Accepting his help, Clare allowed him to support her as she took a few tentative steps towards her bedroom.

"Thank you, kind sir,” she sniggered, causing JC to shoot her a withering look. As she began to laugh at his expression, she lost her balance slightly and toppled forward, crashing closer into his chest.

"Get her to bed, please,” Justin joked dryly from where he was half lying, half sitting on the couch, his lower body still covered by Libby’s legs.

As if realising that the party had come to its natural end, Libby shuffled to her feet and allowed Justin to stretch out the aching muscles in his legs. He smiled up at her appreciatively.

"So where is everyone planning on sleeping tonight?” Jason asked awkwardly as he watched JC and Clare disappear from view along the hallway. He'd left his overnight bags at Sara's apartment, having not expected to need them at Clare's, but he wasn't opposed to sleeping in his clothes if need be. Anything to prevent him from having to find a hotel at this late hour.

"I’ve got a great, big, comfortable bed all to myself!” Libby said with a grin as she stretched her arms out in front of her before letting out a big yawn. "And cosy pyjamas to snuggle into," she added as an afterthought, knowing full well that Jason didn't have a change of clothes to sleep in.

"Really?” Jason said as he raised a mischievous eyebrow at her and smirked. "You wear PJs to bed, do you, Libs?”

Realising that he'd found her comment amusing for all the wrong reasons, Libby poked her tongue out at him childishly and stomped out of the room, her cheeks red with embarrassment.

Both Jason and Justin laughed at her hasty departure.

~~~~~*~~~~~

JC and Clare made slow progress as they worked their way along the corridor towards Clare’s bedroom. Clare’s lower body was wildly resisting her efforts to control it and she felt sure that she was only moments away from uncontrollable, hysterical laughter at the awkwardness of situation.

JC maintained his firm grip around her waist, which certainly wasn’t helping matters any either. It was the closest contact she'd had with him in a long time and it was making her behave like a complete ditz. It was very unlike her.

Clare realised that at that moment she no doubt looked a complete fright, but for some reason those kind of things didn't matter around JC. He wasn't the kind of guy who judged a person based on their appearance. It was a relief. It was rare for her not to have to worry about the way she looked around her male friends; especially those she had romantic feelings for.

As they entered Clare’s bedroom, JC avoided turning on the main light as he guessed that Clare would probably fall into a deep sleep the moment her head hit the pillow, and the extra light would be a waste. It made his attempts to get her somewhat near her bed harder however as he could barely see where he was going, and consequently he tripped over the low wicker chest that Clare used as storage for blankets at the bottom of her bed.

Groaning with pain and using his spare arm to rub his shin where the corner of the chest had grazed it, JC carelessly loosened his grip of Clare slightly, and before he knew it she was leaning away from his body and slipping out of his grasp.

Clare's eyes grew wide as she realised that she was falling, but all she could manage to do was flail her arms wildly in front of her and grasp at JC's shirt. Gripping onto him tightly she pulled in an attempt to right herself but only succeeded in pulling him towards her. As she fell backwards—fortunately onto her bed—she managed to accidentally pull JC completely on top of her. They bounced several times as the mattress absorbed the impact of their fall and then Clare burst into raucous laughter.

"I really don't think I should've had that last glass of wine," Clare spluttered out in between giggles. JC quickly rolled away from her to release her from the pressing weight of his body and turned onto his side so he was facing her.

Resting his head on the palm of his hand, he watched her try to compose herself, an amused and fond smile crossing his lips. He'd forgotten how carefree she became when she'd been drinking. She was the life and soul of the party, and all the weights and worries that the rest of the time pressed down on her were released and she was free to fly like a bird.

Managing to somewhat control her body Clare turned her head to face him, realising in a sobering moment that he was staring at her in a way that she wished he always would.

"What are you looking at me like that for, Joshua?" She asked fearlessly, the alcohol giving her the courage to ask a question that the sober her would never dare ask.

"Nothin'," JC replied with a knowing grin on his face.

"What?" Clare asked again with a tinge of frustration in her voice. If he was laughing at her then she wanted to know why.

"I said it's nothing," he replied, and this time his smile broke and he turned his head slightly away from her to hide his wide smirk.

"What? You're laughing at something!" Clare observed, shuffling her body so that she was half sitting, her body supported by her elbows.

"You know, Chasez, if this room wasn't spinning so much and I didn't feel like I had a ten tonne weight attached to my shoulders I'd hurt you right now. A lot!"

"Sounds interesting!" JC remarked with a cocky grin as he turned back to face her.

Clare sucked in a deep breath of air as she absorbed his words. Was he flirting with her? She scanned his face for signs of embarrassment or suggestions that his meaning had been confused. There were none. Instead he seemed to shuffle closer to her, and Clare was sure that his attention seemed to change from her eyes to her lips.

She tried her best not to pout at him. Is he going to kiss me? She thought in a sudden panic. Would her inebriated state give him the courage to test the boundaries of their friendship, or was she already unconscious and dreaming? If he did kiss her, would it go further? Or would he realise that she was too drunk to remember, and do the decent thing? Of worse, would her drunken state be a turn off and make him decide once and for all that there was nothing between them?

Clare felt her heart beat increase in preparation of what she thought might be to come. She wished again that she hadn't had that last glass of wine and then maybe she would be in a more alluring state than the semi–conscious, rambling idiot that she had become.

Suddenly she was bought back from her rambling thoughts by the feeling of pressure on her forehead. She held her breath as JC ran his fingers down the side of her face, tucking a loose curl of her hair behind her ear as he did so. Where his fingers made contact with her skin, a warming sensation remained.

Staring deep into his dark blue eyes, unable to do anything else but be completely absorbed in them, despite a very small voice in her head screaming at her to regain some self–control, and not give away too much about how she felt about him, Clare felt her limbs begin to quake at the closeness of his body.

His face just inches from her, JC scrutinised every inch of her face before settling on her lips, when a smile that was so familiar to Clare, and so reassuring that she immediately felt a bubble of laughter spring its way up from the pit of her stomach appeared on his face.

He was going to kiss her! He, her best male friend and the person she had shared so many intimate moments with; the person who knew her better than almost anyone else and yet was the one she was meanest to because of it was finally going to answer her unspoken wish. It made her want to shout out loud and scream with delight, but instead she fought against the laughter that threatened to consume her.

Noticing the change in her expression, JC paused and gave her a sideways look. "Funny?" He asked and Clare knew exactly what he meant. Not wanting to discourage him, or prolong the moment any longer, she gave him the sweetest smile she could manage, shook her head and closed the gap between them.

~~~~~*~~~~~

As Justin exited the main bathroom—where he'd spent the last few minutes after everyone had vacated the living room—he passed by Libby's open bedroom door as he went in search of somewhere to sleep. Unable to resist the opportunity to see her once again, he casually glanced in the doorway to see Libby climbing into bed wearing the same pyjama set that she'd earlier described to Jason.

Justin grinned. He lingered in the doorway, and realising that there were people in the apartment trying to get to sleep he said in a quiet voice, "So you're one of the privileged people who get a comfortable bed to sleep in tonight."

Libby tucked the bedcovers over her legs and flashed him a smile as she propped herself up with her pillow. "It's an advantage of living in the place where the party's at," she said, making a big show of stretching and getting comfortable to make him feel jealous.

"Well, Jason got the last chair so lucky me, I get the floor," Justin said dryly and flashed her a crooked, slightly forlorn smile.

Libby glanced over at the couch that was positioned under her window and chewed down thoughtfully on her bottom lip. How awkward would it be if I offered him my couch? she wondered. Would it be weird? Or are we both too tired to care?

It didn't take long for Libby to decide that yes, she was too tired to care. "You can have my couch if you like. It'll be more comfortable than the floor." Justin flicked his eyes to the couch and back again.

"You don't mind?" he asked, not wanting to sound too enthusiastic in case she changed her mind. He was already convinced that it would be a much better option than any that he could find on his own. Plus it was nearer to her, which was always a bonus.

"Yeah, that's why I asked you, genius," Libby said with a roll of her eyes. She fought back a yawn as she watched him make his way across the room where he proceeded to fluff up the Union Jack cushion that she kept as a reminder of home. Justin made it into an impromptu pillow before settling his body into a relatively comfortable sleeping position on the couch.

Once he was still, Libby flicked off her bedside light which sent the room into almost total darkness. Only the faintest hints of the moonlight could be seen through the gaps in her window blind.

For a while there was silence, and Libby used it as a perfect opportunity to pretend to go straight to sleep. She hoped that if she were quiet and began to breathe slowly that Justin might be discouraged from trying to talk to her. Staying in her room was one thing, but talking to her in the dark was something else. It felt far too intimate for Libby.

"So... PJs, huh?" Justin asked into the darkness causing Libby's eyes to snap open in alarm. Oh no, he's talking.

"Nope," Libby said simply.

"Nope?"

"Nope, we are not going to talk about my pyjamas." Despite the darkness, Libby could tell that Justin was laughing. She could hear it in his voice when he spoke.

"That's a shame," he said. "I was going to ask you why you're the only person in Florida wearing PJs to bed."

"And I said we're not going to talk about it." Libby paused, and then added quietly. "I feel the cold, that's why."

"You feel the cold? In Florida?" Justin scoffed.

"Shut up. I like my PJs."

"I didn't say I didn't like 'em. I'm just surpris—"

"Yeah, anyway," Libby said, interrupting him. She was desperate to change the subject away from her choice of bed wear. Justin said nothing but Libby could tell that he was still laughing at her. It was lucky that it was dark, she thought, for if she saw him laughing at her she'd have to hurt him.

The room descended into silence once again until Libby began roughly slapping her arms against her duvet, unaware that she looked something like an angry penguin. Justin—who was lying on his back—turned his head to the side to look at her, wondering if she had some kind of sleep issue that he didn't know about. Maybe the living room floor had been a better option after all? he wondered.

"What's up?"

"I can't sleep!" Libby said, letting out a huff of frustration.

"Probably too much caffeine," Justin replied matter–of–factly. He was an expert in messed up sleep schedules thanks to his time touring with the group. Nowadays he was so used to being exhausted all the time that he could sleep just about anywhere.

"Great," Libby continued to complain. "Now I'll be falling asleep in class tomorrow."

"Can't you take the day off?" Justin suggested.

"I can't," Libby said. "I'm in the middle of exams. If I take the day off I'll fail the subjects I miss. Believe me, I cannot afford to fail."

"You won't fail," Justin said confidently. Although he had no grounds to be so sure, he'd never known anyone—besides himself—who was as determined to get what they wanted as Libby. He knew that she would find a way to graduate no matter what.

"I hope not," Libby replied, a small quake evident in her voice. Afraid that he might have noticed the uncertainty in her reply and want to discuss it with her, Libby quickly flopped onto her side and repositioned her pillow so that she was more comfortable. "Anyway... good night!" she said cheerfully and let out a loud, fake yawn.

When Justin attempted to engage her in conversation once again, Libby ignored him until he eventually gave up and fell into a deep sleep. As he slept, Libby lay on her back and stared up at the ceiling, feeling more awake than she had all day. With an ironic smile, she thought of the young fans that the group had met earlier in the evening. Doubtless they too were lying awake unable to sleep. She knew that she was fortunate to know the members of *NSYNC as well as she did, but there was certainly a price to it.

Libby let out a deep sigh at the thought. Unlike the fans they'd met, she wished that she could stop thinking about the group—Justin in particular. She turned her head in the direction from which the sound of his breathing was coming from and sighed once again. Clare had been right all those months ago when she'd told her that unrequited love was the worst. Clare had been completely right. It was awful.

~~~~~*~~~~~