~~~~~*~~~~~

Clare slouched down unhappily in one of the metal benches in the airport's departure lounge as she waited for an opportunity to make her escape. Already this morning she'd been forced out of her apartment by the members of *NSYNC, endured a forty minute cab ride to the airport—protesting all the way that she was not going to accompany them on tour—and now she was stuck being watched like a hawk whilst the group waited to be called to their flight.

Clare was very nearly out of hope—and options.

She'd already made several attempts to escape. She’d even tried to make a run for it as soon as the taxi cab had pulled to a stop outside the terminal building. However, Chris had had her number on that one and he'd bolted out of the cab behind her and dragged her right back.

Thanks to that final unsuccessful attempt he was now keeping even stronger tabs on her, and Clare had begun to realise that despite her protestations, it looked very likely that she would be spending the next few months on a too-small tour bus, travelling around Europe on *NSYNC's 'Ain't No Stopping Us Now' tour.

"God, I ache!" Chris complained as he lifted his arms and began to swing them around in a windmill formation in an attempt to ease the cramping pain that had developed between his shoulder blades. Clare narrowed her eyes as he shot her a pointed look. She had no sympathy for him.

"You insisted on carrying me to the taxi," she reminded him moodily. "That's your penance for kidnapping me."

"It was a necessary evil," Chris replied as he glanced away from her sulking face to check once again that he'd remembered to bring his passport. It was the one thing that he'd been required to bring from home—the rest being handled by the group's Assistant Tour Manager, and his current girlfriend, Jamie—and he knew that there'd be hell to pay if he'd forgotten.

"Necessary, my ass," Clare replied sullenly as she frowned back at him. "It was necessary for me to get a few more hours sleep. It was necessary for me to continue looking for another job..."

Realising that she was running out of time, Clare decided to quickly change tactics. She leaned forward in her chair and smiled sweetly at him, widening her eyes and fluttering her eyelashes ever so slightly. "How about we forget about this tour nonsense,” she said, “and you just let me go home, hmmm? You don't want my miserable face looking back at you for the next however many weeks, do you?

Chris snorted, amused by her attempt to get around him. It was not going to work. "No, I don't," he replied with a chuckle causing Clare's face to break out into a relieved smile. "But neither do I want to have to look at his miserable face either." Chris gestured with a nod of his head at JC and Clare followed his gaze, the smile tightening on her face. One look at JC and her hope was gone.

He was sitting as far away from the group as was possible whilst still remaining within earshot. His head was bowed and resting forward onto his chest as he caught up on some much needed sleep. Although he looked as though he were deeply asleep, Clare knew that he would wake with a simple nudge or word. He would never allow himself to fall deeply asleep in such a public place.

"He's happier with you around," Chris continued as Clare watched the steady rise and fall of JC's chest. At the sound of Chris' words, Clare's eyes narrowed. She already knew that Chris' plan was a stupid one, but she was only just beginning to realise his full intentions. She wasn't happy, to say the least.

"He's not happier when I'm around," She objected vehemently as she turned back to face Chris. "We both hate each other and that's the way it's going to stay."

Chris smiled a full, cocky grin which sent Clare's blood boiling. He really shouldn't be enjoying this as much as he was. "We'll see," he said with a chuckle. "You'll be living out of each other's pockets for the next few months. Anything could happen."

"Wow, you think you're so clever, don't you, Kirkpatrick?"

Chris beamed. "No. I know I'm clever."

~~~~~*~~~~~

"...Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. On behalf of the crew, may I welcome you aboard this British Airways flight 31624 service from Orlando International to Birmingham International Airport. Once we get airborne today, our flight time will be approximately nine hours. Once again, may we thank you for choosing to fly with us today, and we wish you a pleasant journey."

God, Clare thought miserably as she listened to the pilot's announcement over the plane's intercom. It's really happening. They've actually managed to pull this off.

Clare twisted around in her chair to glare once again at Chris, who was sitting a seat away from her across the aisle on the right hand side of the plane. He met her eyes and grinned, even raised his hand to wave his hand goofily in her direction. Clare bit down hard on her bottom lip to prevent an expletive from slipping out.

"Who do I have to blame for this again?" she asked angrily as she turned to Jamie, who was sat beside her. Jamie rolled her eyes skyward and continued to flick through the inflight magazine that she'd found. It was pretty grim reading, but at least it was something to do.

"Don't look at me," she replied simply, her eyes never leaving the glossy pages. "You've got dumb and dumber to blame for that."

"I knew it," Clare growled as she turned back around to face Chris and made a cutting gesture underneath her chin with her index finger. Chris laughed and nudged Joey—who was sat beside him—and the pair of them openly laughed at the furious expression on her face. Clearly they were thrilled that their evil plan had worked.

This is bad. Very bad, Clare thought as the plane began taxiing up the runway. She grasped tightly onto the arm rests until her knuckles went white from the strain. If her willingness alone could have prevented the plane from taking off then its wheels would never have left the tarmac.

The only thing Clare could hope for was that there would be a soon-to-depart flight waiting for her at the other end that could bring her straight back home in nine hours’ time. For there was no way that she was going to spend the next few months on tour with *NSYNC. Of that she was one–hundred percent certain.

~~~~~*~~~~~

"Are you okay, baby?" Justin asked in a whisper as he leaned towards Libby who was sitting in the window seat beside him. Her face was pale as she peered anxiously out of the window, watching as the plane lifted up off the tarmac and pointed its nose to the sky. Libby turned to face him and gave him as brave a smile as she could manage, but it didn't reach her eyes.

Now that it was actually happening, Libby wasn't sure that this was such a good idea. She’d been swept away by Justin—and the other men’s—enthusiasm about taking her and Clare with them on tour, and despite there having been a very small voice in her head that had told her to take a step back and really think it through, she’d allowed herself to get carried along with the preparations without really thinking about the realities of being on tour.

She’d so badly wanted to go with them that she hadn’t even dwelled on the niggling doubts that had tried to convince her that she shouldn’t. It wasn’t that she’d been careless about it—Justin had taken care of all the details, even going so far as to book an appointment with her consultant to discuss their opinions on Libby travelling abroad—but she had to admit to herself that she hadn’t quite been as honest as perhaps she could have, or should have been.

When Justin had asked her if she thought she was up to touring she’d said yes. Had it been the truth? She wasn’t sure. But then she’d assumed that she’d be spending most of her time on the bus or at a hotel. What would be so tiring about that?

When her consultant had asked her if she’d been suffering from any pain, nausea, headaches or fever she’d said no. Not really. Not unmanageably so, anyway. They’d told her to expect some adverse reaction after her accident, and so she’d assumed that everything was normal. Everything was normal, she kept telling herself. The headaches weren’t that bad, and she’d been given almost a lifetimes worth of Tylenol for use when she felt she needed it, so obviously they’d expected her to feel a little achy and sore now and then. Maybe not all the time, but still…

And she wasn’t stupid. She’d known what they’d really been asking her. If she’d mentioned anything about her lack of appetite, the nausea or the pounding headaches she had from dawn till dusk they’d never have let her leave the hospital, let alone the country.

And she wasn’t going to let anything keep her from Justin. Of that, above all, she was adamant. She’d put up with whatever to have more time with him.

She hadn’t said anything to anyone—she wouldn’t have dared—but until his mention of the plan to bring her on tour, she’d had sleepless nights full of frantic dreams about him leaving. It’d made her feel even sicker to her stomach to think of him gone and her having to remain at home without him.

She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t imagine a day without him. Even the thought of it sent her straight back to her time in the coma when he’d felt literally a million miles away from her, and she’d thought that she’d never get to see him ever again. Her heart would start racing and she’d be filled with a panic that wouldn’t dissipate until she saw him again.

There was no way that she was going to admit aloud that she was worried that things weren’t right. That she wasn’t recovering as well as she’d expected to. She would just suck it up and get on with it. Even though she hadn't yet been strong enough to spend more than a few hours out of the apartment without having to return for a rest, she would force herself to do whatever it took to stay with him.

She’d take it a day at a time, and God willing, it’d only be for several months and then they’d come home together.

Justin searched her face with worried eyes and reached out to wrap her hand protectively in his. "I promise I'll take care of you," he assured her, sensing a little of her hesitations.

Libby stared back into his blue eyes and attempted another smile. She didn't doubt that he would take good care of her, and she felt a momentary pang of guilt for deceiving him.

If he’d known that she was worried, or wasn’t well enough to travel then he’d have been the first person to insist that she remain at home, however disappointing it would’ve been for the both of them. Libby knew that, and that was why she felt she needed to keep her concerns from Justin more than anyone. The only person whose stubborn nature she wouldn’t be able to fight was his.

"This will be good for us, Lib," Justin told her in a soft, reassuring voice. "Gettin' away for a bit, spendin' time together." Libby's face relaxed a little, and she shuffled as close to him as her seatbelt—and the armrest that separated them—would allow.

Finding herself restricted until the seat-belt warning was lifted, Libby settled for resting her head against Justin's firm shoulder. She let out a deep sigh and lifted her eyes to meet his once again. Justin smiled and laced his fingers through hers.

"Promise?" Libby asked softly.

"Promise," Justin replied, tilting his head to give her an affectionate kiss on the crown of her head. "Everything's gonna be fine as long as we're together."

Libby smiled. She couldn’t have said it better herself. She just hoped that he was right.

~~~~~*~~~~~

The plane touched down in Birmingham exactly nine hours later. Which Clare had been surprised to find hadn't been enough time to effectively plan her next attempt to escape.

Normally, had she known that she was due to take a nine-hour flight she would have had the foresight to charge her cell-phone battery before she got on the plane, but seeing as she'd had no idea about her 'adventure', her phone had consequently lost power less than an hour and forty minutes into the flight.

She'd hoped to be able to book another flight whilst still in the air, but this had been impossible with her phone now unusable, and Jamie, who never travelled without a full battery and a spare, just in case, had been unwilling to cooperate. Clare had immediately suspected that her friend had more to do with 'the plan' than she was letting on. There was no way that those pair of knuckleheads—Chris and Joey—could have organised this whole thing without some sensible help.

Consequently, upon landing, it had been easy for Clare to get pulled and pushed along with the rest of the group—first through arrivals, then baggage claim and finally out of the terminal itself, until she suddenly found herself standing in front of the large tour bus that had arrived in advance and was waiting to take the group to their first destination.

If Clare had anticipated having a chance to break away and run off into the crowd, then it wasn't going to happen. She hadn’t even had an opportunity to sneak into a cab.

She'd passed the taxi-rank not five minutes before, and she would have to almost re-enter the terminal to find herself alternate transport. It was unlikely that the rest of the group would fail to notice either of those options.

And so here she was, staring grimly up at the bus which she would—reluctantly— have to call home for the next however many months. It was a grim thought.

As it was only around 3:45 p.m. local time, Jamie had arranged for *NSYNC to do a few radio appearances in the city centre, much to the annoyance of Clare, Lisa—who had also come along on the tour—and Libby, who were all cranky from the flight and wanted to get to the hotel as soon as possible to settle in.

"Are you seriously telling me that eleven of us have to fit on a bus that isn't even big enough for the five of you?" Clare spat moodily at Lance as he and Jamie gave both her and Libby an impromptu tour of the bus' facilities.

It was pretty cramped—to say the least—but was nevertheless well-equipped with everything imaginable that could be fitted on an over-night sleeping coach.

"It's only while we're on the road," Jamie assured her. She, too, could remember a time when she'd had a tour of the bus, and Clare's reaction hadn't been too dissimilar to her own back then. "At night we stay in hotels."

"Whoopee!" Clare replied dryly as she met Jamie's eyes. She could tell that her friend was trying to be reassuring, but it was lost on Clare. None of this had been her idea—or her choice—and as time passed she was finding it harder and harder to accept the fact that this really was happening.

"You get used to it after a while," Sara said amiably as she jumped up onto her allocated bunk. It was the same one that she slept in during every tour, and over time it'd become like a second home to her—albeit a very compact and snug one.

"I don't want to get used to it!" Clare complained loudly as she struggled to pull her heavy hand luggage onto one of the free bunks that had been left empty for her and Libby. Clare's other luggage had been stored safely in the bus' large trunk—along with everyone else's—to be returned to her on arrival at the hotel. "I didn't want to come in the first place," Clare reminded Sara with a scowl.

Now that the cat was out of the bag, Clare was adamant that all of her friends must have somehow been involved in the plot to get her to come on tour, and she wasn't sure who she could trust.

"I've never heard so much complaining coming from one person!" Joey shouted down the bus' alley at Clare as he stood in front of the fridge, perusing its contents. He nudged the door shut with his foot and turned his head to meet her gaze, grinning when he saw the fury in her eyes.

"She's a woman," a male voice quipped with a chuckle. "What do you expect?"

Although she couldn't see him, Clare knew exactly who that voice belonged to, and at once her blood set to boiling. He was mocking her! How dare he even open his—

"Excuse me?" Lisa exclaimed loudly as she watched a wide grin cross Joey's face as he reached out to offer JC a high-five. At the sound of her voice, Joey turned cautiously to regard his girlfriend who had placed her hands on her hips and was staring at him, one eyebrow raised in consternation. It was no secret who wore the trousers in their relationship.

"Oh, come on. He didn't mean you, Lis," Joey said with a chuckle as he reached out a hand to try to placate her. Lisa stepped out of his reach and narrowed her eyes back at him.

"You guys better remember that this is a unisex bus now, so you better cut the crap!" she said with a huff as she dropped into one of the booth seats that were positioned near the front of the bus. Joey waited until her back was turned before turning back to JC and flashing him a grin.

~~~~~*~~~~~

Libby sat in the communal area of the bus, trying to keep a bright smile on her face even as her enthusiasm waned with each passing minute. This had definitely been a bad idea.

Since lift off she'd had a constant and painful dull ache in the side of her head where she'd had her accident, and although she was trying to put it down to her imagination, she was sure that it was getting progressively worse. Perhaps it had been too soon for her to fly? Or, maybe it was the fact that she was tired from the travelling? Either way, she was feeling pretty awful, and it was hard not to let it show. Normally she'd have had an afternoon nap by now… maybe it was just her body trying to adapt to the time difference? Either way, something wasn’t right.

She tried to work out how many Tylenol she’d already taken, and how soon she could take some more. She’d been told to avoid very strong medication as her coma might’ve affected the way her body could react to some medicines, but what she’d been given by the hospital just didn’t seem strong enough.

Surely it wasn’t good for her to be taking two to three painkillers every four hours? But what choice did she have? She couldn’t spend her life lying in a dark, silent room just to keep the pain at bay.

The loud noise from eleven people's conversation, the sound of the tyres on the tarmac and even the jarring of the bus made her head feel as though it was going to split in two. She glanced through narrowed eyes at the darkened sleeping area just a few feet away and let out a relieved sigh.

Just go and lie down, she told herself.

She glanced around her to see if anyone would notice her absence, and when she felt confident that the coast was clear, she slipped along the bus aisle towards ‘her’ bunk. If she could only get at least half an hour's sleep then maybe she would begin to feel better.

~~~~~*~~~~~

"Libby?" Clare whispered softly as she stood over Libby's sleeping form.

Having seen her friend sneak off to the bunks, Clare had waited around fifteen minutes before discreetly excusing herself and going to check on Libby. Clare had realised herself pretty early on that the only real place to get away for some quiet time was the sleeping area, but she’d been surprised by how quickly Libby had made her escape.

She hadn’t said anything, but Clare had been keeping a close eye on Libby from a distance. Clare knew her well enough to know just by looking at her face how she was feeling, and she could tell that there was something going on by the pinched expression on her friend's face.

She knew that bringing Libby on tour was a bad idea from the moment it’d first been mentioned in front of her, and if she’d had more time, she would’ve done anything to convince Libby—and the others—not to bring her along.

It was stupid. Reckless, even.

"Hmm...?" Libby asked sleepily as she opened her eyes a slither and peeped at Clare.

Clare lowered her voice and whispered. "Are you okay?"

Libby attempted a nod but the pain quickly made her regret the movement almost immediately. She dropped her head gently back onto the pillow and tried not to grimace. "I'm okay," she said weakly. "I just have a bit of a headache."

‘A bit of a headache’, Clare thought with a roll of her eyes. Judging by Libby’s face, it was probably the understatement of the year.

Clare regarded her friend for a moment before answering. "I hope Justin knows what he's doing,” she muttered. “I'm not thrilled about you being dragged into this, Libs. You should be at home, resting..."

"I'm okay." Libby repeated, although she knew that her words were untrue.

The word ‘mistake’ kept repeating through her mind over and over again, mocking her. Yes, she realised now that she should’ve stayed home, but it was too late. And there was no way that she was going to mention to anyone that she was regretting her decision. Justin would be furious—at himself, not her—and besides, what would she do? Travel back to the States alone? With Clare? She’d still be stuck at home for three months and he’d be half way across the world. The end result wouldn’t be any different, and at least on tour she’d get to see him every day.  

No, she'd just have to grin and bear the pain and hope that it'd eventually go away. Or if not, maybe she could attend a drop in centre somewhere for some stronger medication?

Clare pulled Libby's bedcover up higher over her shoulders and tucked it in and around her body snugly. She didn’t want to drone on and on when Libby was clearly suffering. She’d just make sure she kept a closer eye on her friend, and maybe try to align some of the others to her way of thinking. Maybe if there was a group of them, Libby would take more notice of Clare’s concerns.

"Can I get you anything?" she asked softly.

"Nah, thanks. I'll be fine in a bit," Libby assured her, offering Clare a grateful smile. "I'm just gonna have a little nap."

"Okay then, Libs,” Clare said, “Feel better."

~~~~~*~~~~~