"Goddamn it, Chris!" Wade hollered as Chris nearly dropped his partner.

She let out a shriek and pushed Chris. "You almost dropped me, you bastard. What's your damage? You never had problems on tour."

"Sorry," Chris scowled. "I'm just a little out of practice, that's all. There's no need to have a hissy fit."

"Hissy fit?" The dancer's voice screeched into a new octave.

"Okay, girls, take your lunch break now. But we'll start again in an hour," Wade intervened.

With a last scowl at Chris, his partner huffed off along with the rest of the dancers.

Wade gave Chris his own scowl. "Kirkpatrick!"

"Don't even fucking start with me, Robson," Chris spat out.

"Chris, calm down, it's okay," said JC, then recoiled at the murderous look Chris gave him. "Or...I'll be quiet."

"What the hell, Chris? You've never had a problem with this before. What's the matter? Forgotten how to hold a woman or something?" Wade razzed.

"Well, it has been a while," laughed Joey.

"Fuck you, Fatone," Chris growled. "Look, I'll get it okay? It's not that big a deal."

"We don't have more time, Chris. The show is fucking tomorrow. And don't think I won't take away some free time to keep rehearsing. This is such a simple move, you shouldn't be missing it," said Wade.

Justin practically flew across the space between Chris and him, grabbing Chris' shoulders just before he launched himself off the stage at Wade. "Wade, I think you'd better take lunch yourself. We'll see you back here in an hour. I'd advise you to eat in your room with the door bolted."

Chris struggled to get away from Justin. "Let go of me, Infant, before I have to kick your ass, too."

Justin laughed. "Dream on, you old fart. Now calm the fuck down. I'm not letting you go until you've got yourself under control."

"Old fart? Now I am going to have to kill you," Chris said. But he stopped struggling.

"Come on, dude. The sooner we get this nailed down, the sooner we can hit the links," Justin coaxed.

"Golf. Okay, you can let go now," Chris assured Justin.

Wade sighed, but headed for the door. "JC, can you help Chris get this, please"

"Umm...no. Cause. Well, actually, I'm afraid."

Even Chris had to laugh at that. Wade just looked pissed. "Fine. Lance, you've got this nailed. And you're closest in height. Why don't you and Chris go over the dip?"

Lance backed away, "Um, no. I have a FreeLance conference call in five minutes and I have to go. I'll see ya'll back here in an hour." And Lance fled.

"Chicken shit," muttered Wade as he watched JC take off after Lance. Joey was inching towards the door as well.

"Baby stuff," he said simply and left.

"Fuck," said Wade. "Fine, Justin, he's all yours. If Chris can dip you, he can fucking dip anybody. See you in an hour." Then he was gone.

"Well, it looks like I'm all yours," Chris ogled Justin.

"Oh rapture," replied Justin. "Now, what's the deal Chris? You've had this up till yesterday, How can you forget over night?"

"Well some of us aren't as young and limber as you. I don't recover as easily. You hurt my back last night, fucker."

Justin grabbed Chris, spun him into a dip, and then leaned over to plant a big wet kiss on Chris' mouth. "And you loved every minute of it, fuckee."

~end~