I was a little surprised to find JC sitting on my couch when I came downstairs. I hadn’t heard the door open and yet there he was, sitting on my couch, flipping through one of my many photo albums.

“Enjoying yourself?”

JC looked over his shoulder at me and grinned. “You look cute.”

I seriously despise that word.

“Uh thanks.” I muttered, zipping up my hoodie to cover the t-shirt I was wearing, “Ready to go?”

“You bet.” JC said, snapping the album closed. I saw the cover and hoped it wasn’t the one I thought it was. “You were a really cute kid.”

I wonder if Murphy would take bribes.

“I know, what happened right?”

“Actually I think you’re beautiful.”

I think I just proved that you can actually swallow your tongue when shocked. “Were you drinking while you were waiting for me?”

JC laughed and held open the car door for me, “Come on, birthday girl.”

I found myself nervously playing with my necklace as we talked. It had been a habit I had ever since I started wearing necklaces. I think I’ve broken at least seven of them since I met JC.

“You do that a lot.” JC said as we pulled up to a small boutique.

My hand paused and dropped to my lap, “Yeah, nervous habit.” I told him.

“There’s no need to be nervous around me.”

Oh God, JC Chasez was holding my hand. And he says there’s no need to be nervous around him, right and there really is a Santa Claus.

“So are we going to go into the shop or are we just hoping the right dress will come flying out to me?”

JC leaned his head back against the head rest and turned it slightly to look at me, a grin slowly spreading across his face.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress.”

“Very few people have.” I admitted, “Actually I wonder if it’s really a good idea.”

For some reason JC sat up, as if what I was about to say was going to insult him.

“What do you mean?”

“Well the fact that my legs haven’t seen sunlight for about two years could have something to do with it.”

I wasn’t kidding either. I very rarely wear skirts, I never wear shorts and when I do wear capris I’m never outside long enough for the sun to give me any color. Pretty pathetic for someone who lives in LA but I’d rather be pale white then lobster red.

“Pasty?” JC asked me.

“Blinding.”

I have no idea what possessed me to rest my foot on the dashboard but I did it. I grabbed my pant leg and pulled it up. Good thing I took the time to shave this morning.

“Hang on; let me grab my sunglasses to cut down on the glare.”

I laughed and smacked him on the arm lightly, “You jerk.”

I turned my leg to pull my pant leg back down and gasped when JC leaned over and grabbed my leg.

“You have a tattoo?”

Oh boy here we go. I have nine tattoos on various places of my body. Four of them are on my back. People tend to judge me on the ones that can be seen. I’m not saying that I have a naked pin-up girl, actually I do have a pin-up but its Bettie Page, and believe me, and it’s not visible unless I want it to be.

Back on track though, people tend to find women with tattoos to be trashy or freaks. I get lots of rude comments and people staring at me, which is something that I can’t figure out. I don’t have sleeves like Kat Von D, in fact all of my tattoo’s can be hidden, but I guess a lot of people find it offensive or something.

“Yeah, I have nine.” I said, moving my leg so I could adjust my pant leg.

“Nine?” JC asked, “Where?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I giggled as I stepped out of the car.

I glanced at JC and could see him staring at me. I smirked at him, liking the fact that I just shocked the hell out of him.

“Is that a challenge?”

“Better believe it, bub.”

I closed the car door and walked into the store. I took one look at the sales women and knew that I wouldn’t be able to afford a pair of socks in here, let alone a dress.

I started to back out, only to be blocked by JC’s body.

“Where are you going?”

“I can’t afford anything in here.”

JC stepped past me, grabbing my hand on the way, “That’s why I’m here.”

I stopped and yanked hard on his arm, making him stumble backwards slightly. “Excuse you?”

“Come on honey, don’t make a scene.”

I was going to strangle him with the Versace purse that was on the shelf behind him. Before I could give everyone in the shop a live view of how CSI really worked, a sales woman came over to us.

“May I help you two?”

Yeah, you can hold him down while I smother him with a few dozen cashmere sweaters. Oh and while I’m at stick those six inch pumps somewhere very unpleasant.

“We need a dress that is elegant, sexy and perfect for clubbing.” JC told the girl.

That Calvin Klein belt looks like it could be a good gag.

“I don’t think that anything here will fit me dear.” Oh yeah, sometimes being a size sixteen is a good thing. Okay, maybe sixteen is exaggerating since that’s only with certain styles of pants and it was only one time.

“Oh no, some of our dresses go up to size twenty.”

Bitch, she must work with Murphy on weekends.

“Oh, that’s wonderful.” I muttered through clenched teeth.

“Here, let me show you some styles.”

And end up in some pink frilly thing, I don’t think so.

“I’d rather take a look around first.” I told her, not like she was really listening to me anyway since she was eyeballing JC like a piece of meat.

I sighed and wandered away from her, wondering for probably the hundredth time just what I had gotten myself into. I passed JC and saw that he was holding something up. It was red and looked like it was made of spandex. That thing wouldn’t have fit around my thigh let alone the rest of my body.

“Oh, you’re funny.”

“It’s sexy.”

“If I was Paris Hilton.” I muttered, “I thought you said elegant.”

JC laughed and thankfully put that scrap of clothing back. JC flipped through the racks on the other side of me, every once in a while he would hold up some monstrosity that made me wonder how the man dressed himself in the morning.

“Found it!” JC exclaimed, making me jump slightly.

“What, go-go boots to match the last dress?” I teased, looking up at him.

I’ll admit it, my jaw dropped. He was holding up a halter dress with a poofy skirt, so sue me, I don’t follow fashion so I have no idea what it would be called. Let’s just say it was a fabulous pin up girl dress. We’re talking Marilyn Monroe’s white dress in that infamous scene where the wind from the subway grate catches the skirt of in The Seven Year Itch.  

Of course this was more Bettie Page then Marilyn Monroe. I practically ran around the rack and grabbed the skirt to look at it more closely.

I loved it; there was no other word for it then that.

It was solid black except for a red ribbon that was just under the bust line.

Unfortunately Murphy came running along and showed me the price tag. I sighed and took it from JC and shoved it into the rack.

“What are you doing?” JC asked.

“That’s one weeks pay from my makeup job alone.” I sighed.

“Try it on.” JC said motioning for the sales girl to come over.

“JC I can’t afford it and trying it on will only make me want it more.”

“So what, I told you I’d get it for you.” JC said, “What size are you?”

I crossed my arms over my chest, “Big.”

“Don’t be cute.” JC said, “What size are you?”

“There are three numbers you never ask a woman JC.” I snapped, “Her age, her bra size and her dress size.”

“Then tell her and I won’t listen.”

“They won’t have it.” I insisted.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that I’m like extremely overweight or anything, I just happen to know that if someone shorter then me were to weigh the same, they probably would be a lot bigger then a size fourteen or sixteen. The problem with being on the bigger side of “none plus size” clothing is that everything tends to go rather quickly.

“What size do you need?” The girl asked sweetly, again looking at JC instead of me.

I was tempted to say something smart, but instead I opted to roll my eyes as JC stuck his fingers in his ears and started to hum.

“Fourteen.”

“No problem, I’ll put it in dressing room three for you.”

My jaw dropped, I couldn’t believe that for once Murphy got smacked back home. I didn’t feel like pressing my luck so I went to the fitting room to try it on.

“JC?” I called softly as I got the dress mostly on.

“Yeah?”

I stepped out, holding the dress closed as best as I could.

“Would you mind zipping me up?”

JC stepped behind me to close the zipper. I could feel his breath on my neck and I jumped when his fingers brushed the tattoo on my lower back.

For some reason the skin of my tattoos is really sensitive to touch and the right person touching them the right way can make me feel like jell-o. Apparently JC had that effect on me.

“So we’re up to five now.” He said in my ear.

“Huh?” Oh score points for all those English courses I took in college.

“Your tattoos.” He said, touching the three that went across my shoulder blades, “You’ve got the four on your back and one on your calf, so that means I have five more to find.”

The man could count freckles for all I cared as long as he kept touching me.

“So what do you think?” The sales girl asked.

That you have incredibly bad timing.

I tore my thoughts away from what I would like JC to do with his hands and studied myself in the mirror. The dress looked like it was made for me. The top hugged my chest and the skirt flowed away from all my problem areas.

JC leaned forward and snapped the price tag off. “I’ll go pay for this while you get changed.”

I just nodded, knowing it was pointless to argue with him. He unzipped the dress before disappearing to the front of the store. I changed quickly and brought the dress out to be put into a bag.

I sighed and shook my head as JC accepted a piece of paper that definitely wasn’t a receipt and slipped it into his pocket.

I should have known that Murphy couldn’t give me one damn day.

I stepped up and stared at the counter as they chatted and she wrapped the dress up. JC snatched it away before I could even reach for the bag. I rolled my eyes at him and left the store, listening to the girl tell JC to “have an amazing day”. Gag me.

“I think shoes are next.” JC said, pulling the paper from his pocket, crumpling it up and tossing it behind him.

I stared at the paper as it bounced off the back seat.
 
"Not going to call her?"
 
"If I wanted to date someone named Bambi I'd go to Strip-o-rama." JC muttered as we pulled out.
 
I  had to bite my lip to keep from giggling, "She seemed...nice." 
 
JC scoffed as he pulled up to a shoe store, why we didn't just walk since it was like a block away is beyond me. "Girls like her are all the same. They want to be on the arm of someone who will give them that fifteen minutes of fame thing. Her photo will be online, in tabloids and my fans will be tearing her apart for the next few months. To be honest, I don't know why anyone would want to put up with it."
 
I could feel myself shrugging, "I guess if you're with the right person you learn to deal with it." Yes, for once that switch thing worked, "I think you'd be worth it."
 
Scratch that.
 
You know how you've got that little voice that tells you when something isn't a good thing to say and it flicks a little switch that somehow cuts off the words before they reach your vocal chords? Yeah, I apparently don't have that switch.
 
"You do huh?"
 
I climbed out of the car and made my way to the store, "Sure, you're one of the sweetest guys I know. Dumb sometimes, but sweet."
 
I laughed as JC poked me in the side and made my way towards a pair of black shoes that caught my eye. "Don't even think about getting flats!" 
 
"JC, I'm practically six feet tall, why on earth would I wear heels?"  

"They don't have to be big heels, just no flats."
 
I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him. Believe me, Justin's glare has got nothing on mine. "JC." 
 
"Don't glare at me." He said, imitating my stance, "Look at those ones right there."
 
I glanced over my shoulder at the small Mary-Jane styled shoes with a kitten heel. They were solid black except for a bit of red around the edges, they went with the dress perfectly. 
 
"I'm starting to think this was planned."

“It’s just because we’re having extremely good luck.” JC told me, “Hey, do you need accessories?”

I looked back at him after asking for my size, “No, I actually have the perfect necklace and earrings for the dress.”

I slipped my shoes and socks off as the girl returned and spotted JC staring at my right foot.

“There’s number six.”

I laughed and slipped the shoes on. “Are you intent on finding all my tattoo’s in one day?”

“Better believe it.”

I stood up and took a few steps, amazed at how comfortable the shoes were.

“Well I can guarantee you’ll probably never see two of them.” I said, slipping the shoes off and handing them to the girl.

“Why’s that?”

“Because, you’d have to know me intimately.” I told him as I paid for my shoes.