"I'm tired, man. This is supposed to be vacation, too. I don't want to go sing in some stupid aquarium."

"Lance, just do it. JC promised it wouldn't take long. He and Justin talked to the director all about it. They think it would add something. Let's just do it, okay?" wheedled Joey.

"Joe. We're already done a million things for this special. It's time to kick back and relax. We're in the Bahamas."

"Why am I fighting with you about this? You of all people understand the scheduling demands. Look, the sooner we go, the sooner we're done and can chill. I'll even buy your first round of Jack and Coke down by the pool."

Lance grumbled something unintelligible.

"You are such a pissy bitch sometimes, you know that, Bass?" Joey complained. "What more do you want? I'm trying to help, you ass."

"I'm just tired, Joey. Fuck. Leave me alone for awhile."

JC knocked on the door and entered without waiting for an answer. "Guys? Are we all ready to go?"

"I am, but Lance is being a big baby," Joey answered.

"I am not!" Lance whined.

JC looked back and forth between them. "Well, you sound like a baby, but I'm not in this. We'll just meet you there." And with that, he closed the door behind him.

"Thanks a fucking lot," Joey grumbled, looking forlornly after JC. "Fucker," he repeated. Usually JC was the only one who could deal with Lance when he got into one of these rare moods. It was normally Lance calling them names and forcing them to go to things, so when Lance got like this it was up to JC to fix it. Joey had no idea what JC did to get Lance to go places against his will, and now wished that he'd taken the time to ask.

"Joey, just leave. I'll go when I'm damn ready to."

Joey crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not leaving without you. Now tell me what I need to do to get you to come with me, or I'll throw you over my shoulder and carry you out. And don't think that management won't let you hear all about it when I'm injured doing it and the special has to be cancelled."

"Please. I'd like to see you try, Joey. I think I have a headache. Now leave me alone."

Joey marched into the bathroom, dug around in Lance's bag for a couple of pain relievers, filled a glass of water and carried them out to Lance.

"Take these now and come with me, or I'm going to tell everyone about the flavored condoms in your bag, and make up some outrageous story about how they're being used."

"You wouldn't fucking dare."

"Wouldn't I?"

"Fine. Fucker. I'll go. Are you happy now, Joe?"

"As a matter of fact, yes I am. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'd rather be getting this thing over with than be stuck in a room with you when you're being such a cry baby."

Lance gave Joey the finger but said nothing more.

"Lance. Your face looks like a cat's ass. At least pretend to smile okay? I promise it won't mar your new hot image."

"Shut up, Joe. Wait, you think I'm hot?" This finally got a genuine smile out of Lance.

"Ha. Mention the look and he smiles. Justin's ego has nothing on yours!" replied Joey, but returned the smile.

"I'm nowhere near as bad as Justin," Lance protested.

"Oh really? That's funny, cause it isn't Justin who spends 45 minutes in the bathroom every morning, Mr. I-never-look-in-the-mirror."

"Joe," Lance warned.

"Lance."

"I"m not leaving until you take it back."

"What are you, two?" Joey laughed incredulously.

"We're talking in circles. I said I'd go. Now move."

"Do I have to do what Chris does to make you laugh? Would that work?" asked Joey.

Lance backed away. "Fuck off, Joey. Don't even. I'm so not in the mood."

Joey stalked toward Lance. Lance continued to move away until his knees hit the bed and over he fell backwards onto it. Joey took advantage of the opportunity and pounced on him, pining him to the bed and tickling his sides.

"Fuck, Joe, STOP, fuck..." Lance wheezed and managed to roll himself off the bad and onto the floor. "You ass, STOP it!"

"You going to stop being a prick?" Joey hung over the side of the bed to stare at Lance.

"Fine, yes. Okay." Lance rubbed his elbow. "Ow. I like Jayce's way better."

"What is his way, anyway?"

"Doesn't matter. C'mon, I suddenly feel like singing." Lance all but ran to the door.

"Wait!" Joey chased after him, catching him just as he got his hand on the doorknob. Pushing Lance against the wall and holding him there, Joey grinned evilly. "I'm not letting you go until you tell me."

Lance squirmed. "Joey. We're gonna be late," he replied, suddenly all business.

"We're already late. Being a few more minutes late isn't going to make a difference. Now spill. Or I'll tickle you some more."

Suddenly, Joey found himself being pushed to his knees, his face in Lance's crotch. Lance thrust gently at him. "That's what he does. But I don't think that's quite your style, Fatone."

Joey inhaled deeply and nuzzled at Lance's stomach, sliding his tongue over the sliver of skin between his shirt and pants. "Then you don't know me as well as you think," Joey murmured before easing down Lance's zipper.

Halfway through their second run through of "This I Promise You", JC was singing his heart out as usual. It was then that he cast a glance at Lance and couldn't help but grin. There was only one thing that could make Lance look that laid back.

As they crowded around to watch the playback after the take, JC maneuvered so he was standing behind Joey. Once everyone was absorbed in watching the tape, JC whispered to Joey, "Hey, you figured out the secret. Congratulations, man."