~~~~~*~~~~~

Libby sat on her bed in her pyjama bottoms and tank top trying to figure out a new look for the *NSYNC website. She was bored with the old site and was determined to come up with at least one new idea before she went to bed.

"Are you still tapping away at that damn laptop?" Clare asked moodily as she walked past Libby's open door as she headed towards the bathroom and peered in to say good–night.

"Wow, role reversal!" Libby sniggered as she smiled over at her friend. "It's usually you on your laptop until the early hours of the morning."

"Yeah, well, I'm not the one who's supposed to be resting, remember?" Clare said pointedly, drawing an exasperated sigh from Libby who let her head flop back dramatically as she rolled her eyes.

"Eurgh! If I had a dollar for every time someone used the word 'resting' around me, I'd—"

"Those were the conditions for your discharge from the hospital, Lib," Clare reminded her firmly. She was irritated that Libby seemed to be taking such a laid–back attitude to her illness. She certainly hadn't forgotten how unwell her friend had been.

"God, how many times do I have to say it? I'm fine!" Libby yelled in frustration as Clare wandered into her room and came to sit on the end of her bed. Despite her frustrations, Clare couldn't help but smirk at the look on Libby's face. She’d never had liked being told what to do.

"What are you doing, anyways?" Clare asked as she pulled the laptop closer to her and spun it around so that she could look at the screen.

"The new *NSYNC website," Libby explained. "I'm bored with this look so God knows the fans must be!"

"And what've ya' come up with so far?" Clare asked as she peered at the screen. She raised an eyebrow and glanced up at Libby in confusion, "It looks exactly the same to me."

"That's because it is the same!" Libby laughed. "I haven't actually done anything to it yet."

Clare smiled and allowed her friend a chance to laugh at her expense. It was nice to hear the sound once again after such a long time without it. As Libby's laughter dissipated, Clare smiled fondly at her friend. "So you got any plans for tomorrow?"

Libby let out a sigh and shrugged. "Dunno. I'm guessing I'll be seeing J at some point to say bye. Other than that, nothing."

Clare searched her friend's eyes, remembering that the next day was the scheduled day for the members of *NSYNC—plus Lisa, Sara and Jamie—to leave on tour. She hadn't really discussed it with Libby—which is why it had been so easy for her to overlook the fact. Clare was surprised to find that Libby hadn't made a bigger deal about Justin leaving. Perhaps she just doesn't want to think about it, she wondered.

"Are you okay about him leaving?" she asked tentatively.

Libby sighed. "I'll miss him, but it's bound to happen at some point. I'll still be here when he gets back, and the separation may be good for us. Besides it gives me a chance to miss him, not the other way around!” Libby giggled and glanced at Clare who gave her a knowing look. Clare wasn’t buying it at all. There was no way that the Libby she knew would be so blasé about Justin leaving for three months.

"Yes, okay. I know what you're thinking,” Libby said with a sigh. “I hate the fact that he's leaving, but there's a lot I have to be grateful for. At least I didn't wake up from the coma with him on the other side of the world. We've had these few weeks together which have been wonderful." Libby smiled coyly and tilted her head to one side to look at Clare. “He’s pretty incredible,” she gushed.

Clare smirked and rolled her eyes. “So you keep saying. So if you don’t have any plans, shall we go out for lunch somewhere tomorrow? Once they've gone, I mean. It might help to take your mind off it?"

Libby turned her head and tried not to smirk. Clare really had no idea, and Libby was pretty impressed by that fact. Those men really could work wonders when they put their heads together. “Yeah, that sounds nice,” she said as she turned back to Clare, her poker face fully in place. “We haven't done that in a while."

"You have to promise me you'll eat, though,” Clare said, “I'm not taking you out and wasting my money on food you won't eat."

Only Justin and Clare were aware that Libby hadn't been eating well since coming out of the hospital. She kept saying that she didn't have an appetite, and although she was trying not to freak out unnecessarily, it was beginning to concern Clare. She hated seeing Libby pick at her food, and especially the way her clothes were still hanging off her thin frame. Libby had lost quite a bit of weight during her stay in the hospital, and now that she was home she was meant to be attempting to slowly put some of it back on. Clare wasn’t sure how she’d manage that with the way she was only nibbling at her food.

"Yes! Jeez, I feel like I'm at home with mom again!” Libby snapped, surprising Clare with the sudden change in her tone. “I'm not about to die, you know.”

Feeling defensive, Clare folded her arms across her chest and frowned. She didn't mean to be overprotective, but she was trying her best to adapt to having Libby back home again after her having being gone for so long.

Clare’d become so used to the hospital staff taking care of Libby’s every need that she felt lots of responsibility in taking over as main caregiver. She was doing her best not to take the role too seriously, but she felt that it would take awhile before she could stop worrying, or trying to protect Libby from what she considered to be harmful.

"You might not now,” she said in as calm a tone as she could manage, “but it wasn't too long ago that we thought you were, so you might want to lay off a bit.”

There was an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes before Clare felt Libby’s arms wrap around her and squeeze her affectionately.

“I'm sorry," Libby said into her ear. "I don't mean to snap, I just get so frustrated sometimes. I'm fed up of not being able to go straight back to my old life. I don't mean to take it out on you..."

Clare smiled and hugged her friend back. "I know, Lib," she said. "I know, and I’m trying not to be a menace. I just love you too much to risk losing you again.”

“I know, and I love you, too.”

~~~~~*~~~~~

Clare was woken abruptly by the sound of someone pounding their fist on the front door. At first she tried to ignore it, but after it persisted for well over a polite amount of time she reluctantly threw on her robe and sleepily fumbled her way to the front door.

"What do you want?" Clare yelled through the closed door before making the decision whether to open the door or not. It was only 7.00 a.m., after all.

Receiving no answer, Clare opened the door a slither and peeped through, instantly uttering a groan as the five members of *NSYNC began to grin back at her.

"Oh, God, what?" she groaned as she opened the door wide enough to show her displeasure.

"Nice. We’ve come over here on this lovely morning to wake you up, and this is the welcome we get,” Chris chuckled as he shoved the door open wider with his foot and brushed past Clare.

"Why are you waking me up?" Clare muttered as the rest of the group traipsed into the apartment and quickly spread out, disappearing up the hallway and into various rooms. Clare eyed them suspiciously but was still too drowsy to do anything to stop them.  

"Is Lib up?" Justin asked as he gestured at Libby's closed bedroom door.

"Of course not!" Clare replied sarcastically as she narrowed her eyes at him. "It's seven a.m., why would anyone be awake at this time?"

"Okay, I'll go wake her."

"No, you won't!" Clare told him angrily as he reached out a hand and thumped loudly three times on Libby's bedroom door.

"She's sleeping!" Clare hissed as she made an attempt to pull Justin's hand away from the door by his sleeve. He ignored her and continued banging on the door. Unbeknownst to Clare, he was simply acting as the decoy so that Lance and JC could slip unseen into Clare's bedroom to pack a suitcase of her things.

Unable to sleep through the noise, Libby opened her door and stood in the doorway in her nightclothes—her hair sticking out in all directions—and stared at Justin through bleary eyes. She rubbed a balled up fist over her right eye and let out an enormous yawn. "Hmpf."

"Mornin' baby girl," Justin said cheerfully as he leaned forward to kiss Libby briefly on the lips. She attempted a smile and side–stepped to allow him access to her room. "You all packed?" he asked as he peered into her room for signs of her suitcase.

"Yeah, just got my stuff to collect from the bathroom," she said through another yawn.

"Okay, no problems. I'm on it."

"What the hell is going on?!" Clare exclaimed she glanced from Libby to Justin and back again. Justin shrugged and the characteristic smirk appeared on his face.

"You're comin' on tour with us," he said with a careless shrug. "You better get packin'."

"You have to be kidding," Clare snapped. "There's no way in hell, and Libby's certainly not going anywhere. She's only just come out of the hospital, remember?"

"What time is it?" Libby asked Clare as she watched Justin head along the hallway to the bathroom to collect her toiletries. He'd been right to suggest that she pack her clothes and personal effect the night before. There was no way she'd have a clear head at this this time in the morning to not forget something essential. It had been hard enough working out what to pack for a three–month long trip in the first place, let alone if it'd been sprung on her like it would be poor Clare. But she'd been sworn to secrecy just like the others, and had promised not to utter a word to Clare about 'the plan'.

"Ten past seven," Justin called from inside the bathroom. "You better get dressed, babe. We gotta leave for the airport soon."

"Don't worry, Libs," Clare said as she turned to Libby and placed what she thought was a reassuring hand on the younger woman's shoulder. "You don't have to go anywhere. Justin has clearly lost his mind."

"No, he hasn't," Chris said as he stuck his head out of the bathroom. Clare could see that in his arms he was holding her face wash, moisturising lotion and toothbrush. "You're coming too, Gid'."

"Put my stuff down!" Clare shouted. "What the hell is the matter with you? There's no way in hell I'm going anywhere with you lot."

"Yes, you are," JC muttered from down the hallway, and Clare shot her head around just in time to see him retreating into her bedroom. Her blood boiled at the thought of him being in her apartment uninvited, let alone in her bedroom. And she still hadn’t cleared up or done something with the funeral pyre she’d created of their ‘relationship’. No doubt it wouldn’t escape his attention that she’d tried to remove his presence completely from her life.

"Get out of there!" she shouted as she rushed down the hallway to haul him out of her room. She'd kick his ass if she had to.

Once inside her bedroom, Clare understood immediately that she'd been played. Clearly Justin had been distracting her the whole time so that Lance and JC—the most organised, neatest and quickest packers of the group—could gather her things and pack them into her travelling suitcase. She couldn't remember the last time she'd even used that case, but it seemed either Lance or JC—probably JC—had known where she kept it.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Clare roared as she found Lance standing by her bed with armfuls of her underwear, and JC busily folding piles of blue jeans.

"Packing," Lance replied without even a hint of shame. He dumped his armful of bras and pants into the case and crossed the room towards Clare's dresser to get more.

"I think we already went over this," JC said calmly as he looked up to meet Clare's eyes for the first time since their argument. "You're coming with us on tour.”

"And I do believe I turned down the privilege," Clare sniped back as she headed over and elbowed him away from her case. She reached out and lifted an armful of clothes and placed them onto the bed.

"And I believe we don't accept 'no' for an answer!" Lance said as he brushed past her and calmly picked up the clothes she'd just removed and placed them back into the case.

"I don't care what you accept," Clare said angrily. "I'm not going anywhere. Especially with him," she shot daggers in JC's direction and aggressively jabbed her thumb at him. "Now put my stuff down, and get out of my room!"

Rising to her full height, Clare reached out and placed a hand on both of their chests, pushing them backwards towards her door. As soon as they were close enough, she reached for the door and slammed it closed in their amused faces. She pressed her body weight against the wood and braced herself in case they attempted to shove their way back inside.

"Chris!" Clare heard Lance call to his band mate as she rested her ear against the door. "Giddy's being difficult!"

There was the sound of muffled discussion and then the door burst open abruptly, almost sending Clare flying across the room.

"'I've been told you're not being a good girl," he said as he folded his arms across his chest and raised an amused eyebrow at her. Clare wanted to laugh at the expression on his face, but she understood that this was no laughing matter. If she wasn't careful she might well end up on tour with the group.

"You can forget this tour idea. I swear to God, it ain’t gonna happen," Clare said as she mirrored Chris’ stance and folded her arms across her chest. It was a standoff, but one that she was determined to win.

"Are you gonna get dressed and come quietly, or do I gotta dress you and drag you out to the car myself?" He asked, his dark eyes challenging her.

Clare snorted in amusement. "That's a stupid question seeing as I am not going anywhere," she retorted.

"There are no stupid questions," Chris replied, "just stupid people." He took a step towards her and let out a deep sigh before raising his eyes skyward, saying a silent prayer. "Okay, this isn't going to be pleasant for either of us, but seeing as you won't do it yourself... God help me." He reached forward a hand and in a swift movement tugged on the tassel of her robe.

"What are you doing?!" Clare shrieked as she clutched her robe to her body, covering her vital areas. She wasn't naked underneath—thank goodness—but she had no desire for Chris to see her in her nightwear, either. Plus, it was completely inappropriate of him to try to undress her. How would she face Jamie after this?

"I'm gettin' you dressed," Chris muttered with a roll of his eyes as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. Despite his efforts to remain nonchalant, Clare could detect a hint of blush around his neck and ears. It took a lot to embarrass Chris, and at any other moment Clare would relish in her ability to have achieved this elusive status—but obviously not now.

"Get off!" she shrieked again as his hand once again reached for her.

"Sorry, Giddy, but you can't board an airplane in your jammies," he said. "It's against the rules."

"Stop!" Clare said as she slapped his hand away again. She retreated and watched with horror as he took a step towards her for every one she took back.

"I can't, sorry,” he said, sounding genuinely remorseful, “We’re behind schedule as it is.” Clare eyed his apologetic face and wondered for a moment why he’d been nominated for this particular task. He seemed to most unlikely person to volunteer to get her dressed. No doubt they drew lots, she thought irritably.

"My God, please stop," she told him as her hand made a loud crack against his as he reached for her again. "If I agree to get dressed—nothing more—will you stop trying to undress me?"

Chris let out a massive sigh of relief. "Yes, please,” he said, turning immediately and heading out the room. "But hurry," he said. "We've gotta be out of here in ten minutes, and there’ll be hell to pay from Jamie if we’re late."

Clare waited until he'd turned his back before pulling the nastiest, most childish face she could manage at his back. It wasn’t much of a payback, but it made her feel better for a moment, at least.

Once the door had clicked shut, she quickly slipped on a pair of jeans and a white belly top. Grabbing her brush from her nightstand, Clare ran it several times through her hair and instinctively glanced at herself in the mirror.

She looked like death.

Death warmed up.

She'd had a bad night's sleep, and her face was pale with obvious grey rings beneath her eyes. It wasn't a pretty sight, and she hated the fact that her emotional turmoil was so clearly written across her face. She'd aged several years in just a few months.

"If you're not out of there in five minutes, I'm coming in!" she heard Chris call to her through the door and she quickly realised that he was doing sentry duty outside.

Clare sucked in a deep, shaky breath as she tossed the brush onto her bed. Adrenaline started coursing through her veins and she eyed her escape routes. If the door was guarded then there was really only the window, but she wasn’t quite that desperate. Yet.

Maybe she could somehow distract Chris and sneak out the front door? But then there would doubtless be another four pairs of eyes keeping tabs on her. Five, if Libby was involved in the plan, which Clare realised now was probably the case.

She thought back to Libby’s underwhelmed reaction to Justin leaving the night before and a light bulb went off in her head. No wonder she wasn’t that upset, she thought wryly. Clare wanted to be upset with Libby for keeping something like this a secret from her, but there was no time. She had to come up with a plan of action before Chris came bursting back in, and time was already running out.

~~~~~*~~~~~

"Hey, sweetie, wake up. We'll be leaving soon," Justin said as he crouched down next to the couch that Libby had collapsed onto. She'd made it to the lounge—which was pretty far, she thought—before falling asleep in the closest possible chair.

“Leave me alone. I’m tired,” she said through a loud yawn as she curled her body up into a tight ball and eyed him with half–open eyes. She was already regretting her involvement in the plan. When she’d agreed to be involved she'd overlooked the fact that it would involve an incredibly early start. She hoped that it’d be worth it.

"Ready or not, here I come!" Chris called loudly as he burst into Clare's bedroom without waiting for permission. Once inside he looked around, but the room was empty.

"Clare, I know you're in here. Come out, come out, wherever you are!" he sang as he began a search for her in the most obvious places—under the bed, behind the door, in the gap next to her dresser. After an unsuccessful few minutes of searching, he gave up and called for reinforcements. "JC, get your ass in here and help me find Giddy!" he shouted down the hallway.

Unlike Chris, JC found Clare’s hiding place almost straight away. He made a bee–line for Clare’s closet and smiled to himself as he moved aside some of the clothes on the rail to find her tucked at the very back, hiding from the both of them in the near darkness.

"Come on, out,” he ordered with a chuckle.

Clare shot daggers at him. "Has it still not sunk in?” she snapped, “I said no!"

JC shrugged and silently dragged her from the small, dark space.

"Yeah, we don't get that word," Chris sniggered as he picked up her suitcase and headed for the door.

"That doesn't surprise me,” Clare muttered, “'cause you don't know the meaning of most words!" She turned her head to scowl at JC and tried to pull her arm free of his grasp. She hated the smug grin that was plastered across his face, and the fact that he was touching her. No doubt he was up to his eyeballs in the groups’ attempt to get her to come on the tour with them, although why he would bother, she wasn’t sure. If he thought she’d been making things difficult for him before, then wait until he was stuck on a tour bus with her for hours on end. She’d bring a whole new meaning to the word misery.

Chris and JC exchanged a look, having a clear exchange without words. Clare scowled at them both, awaiting their next move. If she managed to loosen JC’s grip on her, then she’d make a run for it. It was unlikely that she’d be able to outrun either of them, but she’d damn well have a try.

Silently, Chris tossed Clare’s suitcase across the room at JC, and he released Clare to catch the case in mid–air. Before she could run, however, Chris jogged across the room, bent down and tossed Clare over his shoulder in one easy move. It took a second for her brain to catch up with what was happening.

"Next stop, England!" he cheered in victory as Clare’s face turned scarlet with embarrassment and anger. She pummelled her feet and fists against his chest and back but he simply laughed as he and JC casually made their way out of the room.

Clare’s ear–piercing scream filled the whole apartment. “Chrrrriiiiiisssss!”