He really was getting too damn old to do this with Justin, running around the hoop in his driveway chasing a basketball, pretending he had endless reserves of energy. Especially after two legs of a tour and no break. It only got worse when he wasn't sleeping well, and he hadn't slept a night through since they got back to Orlando.

Justin laughed when he stumbled off the edge of the asphalt. "Okay, one more of those, and I'm making you take a break before you seriously hurt yourself."

"I can still whip your little boyband butt," argued Chris, using the stumble as a chance to catch his breath. Even if he didn't have endless reserves of energy, Justin sure as heck did. "You're just too scared to keep playing me, that's it. You know I am the master."

"Sure," Justin said easily enough; Chris narrowed his eyes at him. "What? I'd be saying that to make myself feel better, too, if I was you." He laughed again and darted away when Chris lunged at him, then blessedly collapsed on the grass next to his bottle of water. "Seriously, seriously," he chuckled. "Time."

Chris did his best not to let his relief show. "See?" he said. "I win again. The trick is to outlast the young'ns." Then he sank to the grass next to Justin in what he hoped was a more dignified manner. He had a point to make, after all. Grabbing the basketball from Justin's loose grip, he bounced it away from them so Justin couldn't try to pick up the game before he was ready.

Justin watched it bounce away, then stretched back on the grass, his hands clasped behind his head. "That's the trick, huh?" he repeated idly, plucking a handful of clover out of the ground and searching though it. "That what you and Dani say when you have the room next to Joe and Jace, too?"

Chris grunted and fell silent for a moment; he hadn't come over here just to have Justin bring up Dani, he'd come to get away from the whole thing. But now that it was out there -- more or less -- he might as well just go with it.

"Not so much of an issue right now," was all he said, though. "Besides, those two could drown us out any day, and we all know it. Those two could drown you out."

Justin grunted, too, looking like he wished he hadn't brought it up either. "Well, that's the advantage we have, I guess ... staying in Brit's room, so we don't have to test that." He resumed his search for a four-leaf clover, seemingly unconcerned about the fact that the times he was with Britney probably only covered half the occasions when Justin could potentially be drowned out in bed with someone.

"Right," murmured Chris, turning his head to give Justin a look that he couldn't miss. It wasn't like Justin didn't already know exactly how he felt about it, but Chris liked to give him a reminder from time to time that if he was gonna be pulling that stuff, he could at least show a little remorse for it. "'Cause once again, you know you'd lose."

"Oh, all right," Justin said dismissively. "Maybe you're right. But I'll tell you what it wouldn't drown out," he boasted. "Brit, when she sees those pearls, man."

"So you got 'em for her, huh?" said Chris. "Wow, must actually be getting serious between you two." The comment was pointed, but didn't soften the edges of it. That wasn't his style.

Justin narrowed his eyes at him, then just said "fuck off," casually. He was getting Chris's point just fine, it seemed. "Dude, what's with you today? You're all surly, but you're not bitching about anything important. You can tell me."

Chris tried to wave him off, but it came off looking even more like there was something up. If there was one thing he utterly sucked at, it was keeping his feelings under wraps, and they all knew it. "There's just stuff going on," he said vaguely, knowing fully well Justin was going to push him on it in a few seconds, especially if he followed it up with, "Nothing to worry your curly little head about."

"Fucker," Justin sulked, running a hand over the sweaty mess of hair on his head, pulling at one of those curls like he wanted nothing more for them to just disappear. "Seriously, man, what?" he pressed, rolling over and ticking Chris's nose with one of the cloverleaves, laughing when Chris batted at him. "Tell me. What stuff?"

"Dani stuff," clarified Chris. "Things have kinda been not good, for a little while. You know ... stuff." He could have pointed out how Justin knew exactly what it was like to be in a not great, tense relationship, but that just wasn't necessary. Justin was a quick guy. "Not sure what's happening."

"Really?" Justin asked, looking surprised. And Chris believed it; if he wasn't being faced with it, if he hadn't seen it himself, he wouldn't have thought things would be 'not good' between him and Dani either. "But ... we're on break. You guys are usually good when we're on break."

"Yeah, well, that's kinda the point," said Chris, closing his eyes against that expression on Justin's face. He hadn't wanted this attention in the first place, and now he remembered why. "We're supposed to be good right now, you know? We're supposed to be boffing like bunnies right about now. And yet I'm here ... with you."

"I hope that doesn't mean you want us boffing like bunnies. 'Cause no offense, man, but you're kinda not my type." He certainly moved close enough, though -- even if he was only trying to get more attention. "She turnin' you down, man?"

Chris grunted. "You're not nearly soft enough for me, Timberlake; it'd be like messing around with a brick wall," he muttered, giving him a friendly shove. "I don't know what to do about this whole thing, with Dani. Maybe flowers."

"Or pearls," Justin said dryly. "She won't talk about it, either? Dude, that's not a good sign, if a woman's not bitching your ear off about whatever it is. Um. Not that Dani would ever, ever bitch, I'm sure."

Chris grunted again. "Yeah, you'd think," he said, even though she never had, not really. And certainly not in the way that Justin was used to it. "It's just been recent, you know? Maybe something's wrong or something, that she's not talking about. Maybe -- " He had to hope. "Maybe it's not me."

"Maybe," Justin murmured, not sounding convinced. "Man, am I gonna get in trouble, next time we see her, for letting you stay here and goof off when you're supposed to be out doing something?"

"Nah," said Chris. "She likes you. Dani loves children. And I'm not supposed to be anywhere, anyway. I'm just supposed to be out of her hair for a while. Like I haven't just been out of her hair for, what, two months?"

Justin nodded, then looked up when the insult actually registered. "Hey," he protested. "Does that mean you're ready for me to kick your ass some more? 'Cause I will."

"Anything to stop this sob-fest before actual tears start coming," agreed Chris, tugging on Justin to get him up. "And hey, I was kicking your ass, don't think I've forgotten!"

Laughing like he didn't believe a word of that either, Justin bounced to his feet himself and chased down the ball from where it had rolled on the other side of the driveway.

"It's not opposite day, Chris," he called, then laughed merrily at himself some more.

"You're not funny!" Chris called after him, hauling himself to his feet with a mixture of relief and disappointment. "I'm the funny one. And don't you forget it!"

Half of Chris wanted to take his sweaty shirt off and half of him wanted to leave it right where it was but all of him was more than ready to give up. This had gone on way, way longer than he'd meant it to, and Justin only seemed to be drawing in more energy as he played. It wasn't making him forget, anyway. It wasn't helping him get away from anything.

"All right, enough," he called out, motioning Justin back. "Let's go in already, you look tuckered out."

"What?" Justin protested, laughing only a little breathlessly and sinking an easy layup before trotting over to where Chris stood. "If you say so. Heading home, or you wanna order a pizza?"

Chris thought about home for a minute, but he was already shaking his head before he even finished. "Pizza. Beer. You're buying."

Just not going home wasn't going to cut it, either, though. And maybe Dani would even be happy to hear him call her up and say he wasn't on his way back. He wasn't sure if that would be a good thing or a bad thing, given the whole situation.

"Cool," said Justin, leading the way inside, quite obviously happy for the company with Britney out of town. "I'm not ordering fucking pineapples for your ass this time, though."

He had good beer in the house, at least, and popped the cap off a bottle for Chris before handing it over.

"I didn't say you were ordering, I said you were buying." Chris let the door slam behind him and took the beer in one surprisingly smooth motion. He needed the beer more than the pizza anyway. "I'll order my own pineapples, thanks. Lots of 'em."

Justin stuck out his tongue in a perfected grimace and grabbed the phone, trying to hold it above Chris's reach by keeping him back with a palm to the forehead. "My house, my phone, fucker."

"You are so lousy to your guests," complained Chris as he flopped down in a chair with his beer, almost overbalancing Justin who stumbled after him. "I'm going to JC's next time. At least those two are entertaining."

Justin shuddered before turning away and placing the order quickly, quickly enough that Chris couldn't overhear it. He threw the cordless down on the sofa when he was done and flopped on the floor, sniffing his shirt and then sneezing.

"I'm not sure entertaining's the word I'd use," he mused. "Plus, they never fight. That's messed up, man."

"Yeah, well, maybe that's normal and we're messed up," muttered Chris, eyeing the phone that Justin had dropped. "So what did you order, anyway, and will I be kicking your tight little butt when it gets here?"

Justin smiled beatifically. "Guess we'll wait and see, huh," he teased. "Wanna shoot some pool while we wait?"

"Yeah," said Chris slowly, and draining his beer all too fast. "Yeah, that sounds good. Meet you in there?" He eyed the phone again then tilted his head toward the hallway. "Go. I know where you keep your cash if the pizza gets here. And I tip better than you anyway."

Justin opened his mouth to protest, but Chris just looked at him pointedly and he obediently skulked out of the room. He hadn't been gone long before Chris had dialed his own number, and heard Dani's soft-spoken voice pick up on the other end. His heart lurched a little.

"Hey, it's me," he said, like Dani hadn't already looked at the call display and seen where the call was coming from. Of course, it would be just his luck if she'd been hoping it was Justin. "I'm ... still here."

"Apparently," she said softly. It wasn't close to snarky, but it wasn't innocent either. "How's Justin?"

And this is what it was like, had been like. For days, even weeks. Forced conversation; Dani taking her cues from him.

"Justin is Justin," he said vaguely, sitting on the arm of the sofa. "You know how Justin is. I'm ... probably gonna stick around a while, have some dinner. He misses Britney and all. We ... didn't have plans, did we?"

"No," she said, more quickly than he liked. "No, no. You guys ... have fun. Um. I'm sure you'll be able to keep his mind off her."

"You sure?" he asked, sliding off the arm of the couch and sinking into the cushions. He wasn't sure if he was relieved she wasn't making a scene, or disappointed that she didn't want to see him. It was the same mix of feelings he'd been having about everything when it came to her these days. "I can come ... if you want."

"...no," Dani repeated, barely audible. But at least sounding more reluctant. "No. I'm just finishing up some work. You relax a little. Just ... okay?"

"Okay, then," he said, closing his eyes. As though that would make all this go away, or something. It didn't. "I'll be home later. Wait up for me? Or don't ... if you're tired. I just ... " He took a deep breath. "Okay. Yeah. I'll be home later, honey."

"Have fun," she replied, after another awkward pause, and then there was just a dial tone in his ear. Chris turned the phone off, but that was all he could motivate himself to do. Both the game room and the front door seemed impossibly far.

Was there something he wasn't doing, wasn't saying, that would make everything with Dani okay? Whatever he was doing sure wasn't working, because that conversation hadn't been any lengthier than any they'd had in the past week. He loved her with everything he had, and he knew he could admit it to himself if he thought he was doing something wrong. But this? He had no explanation for what seemed to be happening right in front of his eyes, and felt helpless to fix it.

The boxes in the hall should have been a real big clue, but Chris convinced himself that nothing was really wrong ... until he saw Dani's face. Her expression was one of shock, which he didn't quite understand -- he'd said he'd be home a little later, who did she expect to come in the door? -- and not a little disgust.

"I can't believe you had the balls to come back," she said tightly, her voice shaking. "You couldn't even let me do this myself; give me that courtesy?"

"Do what yourself?" he asked, looking at the boxes and really seeing them for the first time. "Dani, what's going on here? What are you doing? You said you were fine with it if I stayed at Justin's a little later ... " But that wasn't it, that couldn't be it.

"Yeah, I was fine with you staying at Justin's a little later," she said pointedly. "I wish you had. God. Don't you get that was the last straw, Chris? I mean, I know you've completely lost respect for me since you guys wrapped up the tour, but I ... has it gotten so bad that you think I'd just roll over and take that?"

"Dani. Baby. I have no clue what you're talking about," he said. When he reached out for her she flinched and glared at him and he withdrew his hand quickly. "Did something happen while I was gone?"

That just made her angrier, though; her beautiful face twisted up into a livid scowl. "I called Jeff, if that's what you mean," she said. "He's coming over with his truck in, like, an hour. And don't think I didn't tell him what you did. So, you know, you might want to go ahead and leave, like I asked." She threw some more clothes viciously into a suitcase. "I just cannot believe you, acting like nothing happened."

"Dani, stop!" he said desperately. "Don't you get that I don't know what you're talking about. What do you mean "what I did"? I haven't even seen you since I left this afternoon, how could I have done something so awful that you're leaving me?"

A cold knot began forming in his stomach, though, and he was starting to have a bad feeling about this. A very bad feeling.

She turned around, gaping at him. "And now you're making a ... a joke, about it?" She looked frightened, like she couldn't even recognize the man standing in front of her. "That ... God, that's not funny, Chris. At least I understood the heartless bastard stuff. Now you're just ... you're being ... "

Tears pooled in her eyes, and not for the first time that evening, from the looks of it.

"Dani. God ... Dani ... " he said gently, reaching out for her again but not going to far as to touch her. "I'm not messing with you here. Call Justin if you have to, ask him what we did today. I'm serious, I swear I am. I have no idea what you're talking about, baby. No idea."

But there was still too much doubt there, too much pain. And he didn't know how to fix it until he knew what happened in the first place.

She shoved his hand away, crying freely. "No idea?" she echoed, almost sobbing -- something he'd never, ever seen from her, not in two years of being closer to her than even the guys, sometimes. "No idea, about getting home, and ... and saying all that stuff to me, and then ... making me ... oh, god ... " She collapsed heavily in the chair, burying her face in her hands. "I hate you for that," she whispered.

"Dani, call him, if you don't believe me, but I was. Not. Here," insisted Chris, the cold feeling spreading throughout his body. "I just ... let me get this straight, okay? Between the time I left this afternoon and just right now when I got home ... you saw me? I was here?"

"Stop saying that," she cried, looking up at him again. "It's not like it's something I'm likely to forget. You know perfectly well you were here. Why are you doing this?"

"Can you ... can you sit back down, baby? I promise I won't touch you or anything ... " Chris scrambled for the explanation that he never thought he'd be needing. Or hoped he'd never need. "I swear to you, I was not here, Dani. I was at Justin's all evening. But there's something ... I think maybe I know .... there's something that I never told you ... "

"Oh, God," she moaned, covering her face again. "Don't do this. Do not do this. Don't sit there and insult me with some made-up story about ... I don't know, being a schizophrenic amnesiac, and how you don't know what you're doing half the time. Even though lately I'd believe it, you just better not."

"I'm not," he said, sitting down himself even when she didn't. "I mean it when I said it wasn't me. I was not physically present here today. But ... see ... I have a brother ... "

Dani started laughing hysterically. "Let me guess. An evil twin, right?" When Chris didn't say anything, she finally did sit back down, in her vacated chair. "Get out," she said evenly. "Get out. And grow up. You are the most pitiful excuse for a human I have ever met, and I guess I should thank you for pulling this ... this stunt ... and making me leaving so much easier."

"Please, just listen?" he said, as serious as he'd ever been in his life. "He's not evil. Just ... misguided." That definitely didn't go over any better. "But I do have a twin, and if you don't believe me, call my mother. You have the number." It did sound ridiculous, and he could only hope that the look on his face would convince her to at least listen to him.

She stared at him for a long moment, and he sat as still as he could under her scrutiny. "You're serious," she whispered finally. "I could go into the office right now and pick up the cordless and call Bev and she'd say yes, she had twins. She'd tell me that yes, you have a twin brother."

"She would," said Chris, relief flooding through him. "And then she'd ask you why you want to know about that lowlife bastard. There's a reason I don't talk about him, Dani. But I never dreamed he would ... " He almost choked up, looking at Dani's tear-streaked face. " ... hurt anyone. Hurt you."

"Is that what she'd ask?" Dani said tonelessly, obviously ignoring the rest of Chris's words. "Huh. Interesting. See, because I think maybe she'd ask how it's possible that I don't have any clue what you're talking about. Considering that I've known you for, oh, almost three years? And I'm only your girlfriend -- well, ex -- after all. I think that might be her question."

"No, I don't think she'd ask that," said Chris, wincing at her choice of words. It was beginning to dawn on him that he might not be able to fix this, even with the truth. "I think she'd know why I don't talk about it. I haven't seen him since I was fifteen, Dani. None of us have. It's not something ... look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but can you understand? A little?"

"No," she said sharply, and Chris realized all his earlier relief was way too premature. "No, I can't understand. I can't understand how you seriously expect me to believe this -- that you have a twin you haven't seen in fifteen years, who knows enough about me, about us, to come in here and ... do that. A twin that, despite my going to your house hundreds of times and seeing your family thousands of times, has never ever been talked about in front of me. Not even by your sisters. I don't understand. Are you that much of a child, that you can't take a little responsibility here, for what you did?"

"Dani, I'm not messing around here!" he said, his desperation increasing. "And it scares the hell out of me that he was able to do that, able to impersonate me with you, who knows me better than anyone. I don't even know if this is the only time or if ... " The revelation hit him like a sledgehammer. "Or if he's been doing it for a while. A while. Like ... since I've been home."

Dani bit her lip, because she did know him better than anyone and, to the best of Chris's recollection, probably hadn't ever seen him this lost.

"Chris," she said, a little more calmly. "I'm just going to ask you this. And if you ever, ever loved me ... or even just cared about me, were fond of me ... you'd tell me the truth." She closed her eyes. "Are you serious? You have a - a twin? And you don't know where he is."

"I'm serious," he said instantly. "I have a twin, and he left home when I was 15 and I haven't seen him since then. I don't know where he is or what he's doing. Or at least I didn't ... until now." She was still looking at him in disbelief. "I'm not kidding here, Dani. You can call my mom and ask her, I wasn't bluffing. And you can call Justin and ask him where I was today; I wasn't bluffing about that, either. You have to believe me."

The color drained from her face, leaving her dangerously pale. "Oh, God," she whispered under her breath, refusing to look at Chris. "You're saying," she swallowed, her voice shaky, "that ... that he might ... what happened before, and ... it wasn't you. It wasn't you. Oh, my God." She looked absolutely petrified, and Chris's heart lurched as he finally let himself consider what his brother might've done.

He didn't know now whether it was better or worse that it hadn't been him. "I'm so sorry," he said helplessly, "that he did ... whatever he did, to you. And that he deceived you and that ... that you didn't have a lot of reason not to believe him, without knowing. I never thought this would happen, baby, I never thought this could happen."

"Don't call me that," she said, her voice hollow. "Chris. Can you ... can you just leave, now? I can't look at you. I'm ... I'm sorry, I just can't."

"But it wasn't ... " he began protesting. "I didn't ... "

But he'd lost, and he knew it -- there was nothing to be done about it now. Dani just looked ... empty, and he couldn't help blaming himself.

"I'll go until you're done," he said softly. "And talk to someone, about this, okay? When you can?" The prospect of what might have happened was taking on horrific proportions. "And if you need anything -- anything -- you can call me. Or ... or the guys, too."

"The guys?" she repeated numbly. "Why would I call ... oh." She bit her lip again, and Chris watched helplessly as another tear dripped off the end of her nose. "So they know. Of course they do." She didn't even sound bitter, just very, very sad.

"They had to know," admitted Chris guiltily. "But that's not ... I mean, if you need anything -- anything -- you just have to ask for it, okay?" There was an awkward silence between them for a moment before Chris finally stood up. "I'll be at Justin's, okay? And if you see me again? Call Justin's and see if I'm still there. I won't go anywhere else."

She nodded, and Chris turned away reluctantly to leave before he heard her soft voice one last time. "What's his name?"

"Chaz," said Chris, too many memories washing over him at once as he said it. "His name is Chaz."

Chris didn't even tell Justin what was going on before he pushed his way back into his house. He didn't have to say that something was wrong, anyway -- that much was written all over his face. And for once Justin didn't push it, just got out of Chris's way when he saw what state he was in and mumbled something about making coffee.

Chris stood there, lost for a moment, not even sure what he was going to say, and to who. Once he'd left his house he'd headed straight back to Justin's place without a plan in his head. Now that he was there, he realized there were a few things that needed to be taken care of. More than a few.

Heading for the phone still lying where he'd discarded it earlier that day, he punched in the number for his mother.

She picked up after a few rings, saying hello cheerfully, and Chris's heart tugged even more when he heard the typical, familial hustle-and-bustle of his mother's home in the background.

"Hi, mom," he said, resisting the urge to call her mommy. He didn't need to identify himself; there was only one male child that would be calling her. Though even just thinking about that made him grow cold again. "How are you?" It was better than starting straight in with 'is everything okay? has anything strange happened lately?'

"Fine, Chris," she laughed easily. "Just trying to get the girls to bed. And you? Still recovering from the tour?" She seemed so happy and natural and carefree over the phone that Chris got even angrier that any of it might ever be in jeopardy at the hands of his brother.

"Well ... " He began shakily. He was still coming to terms with the situation himself and hardly knew to say. He was. "There's something going on here, Mom, and I wanted to make sure that you were all right. That the girls were all right. That nothing ... odd, has happened. Has it?"

There was silence on the other end of the line, then she heard her exhale shakily. "Christopher, are you hurt?" she asked. "Do I need to be worried about you?"

"No, not me ... " He began, chewing on his lip, knowing the very fact that he was being so serious about this was probably tipping her off that it was even worse than he was letting on. "Mom, I think Chaz is here."

"Shit," his mother cursed, which actually made Chris smile slightly, to hear her be so crude. "How do you know? Have you seen him? Has he tried to contact you? He hasn't shown his face around here, hon. I would have told you if he had."

"Mom, he's been impersonating me," he said, his voice weaker than he'd meant it to be. "With ... with Dani, at the very least, and now she's gone, and ... the 'evil twin' explanation isn't nearly as funny when it's the truth."

She was quiet again, for so long Chris was about to make sure she hadn't fainted, when he heard her sniffle and say "oh, hon." Her sigh was forlorn. "How did she take it? I'm sure ... I'm sure she'll come back. She loves you more than life; I've never seen two people better suited for each other ... "

"Well, she's packing up as we speak," he said quietly, a small part of him still hoping that mom would make it all better. "At least she believes me now, I think. But what he did to her ... it makes me sick, mom."

"What did he do to her?" she asked, her voice taking on that sharp tone again. "Chris ... I'm so sorry, this is ... my fault, it's always been my fault ... "

"It was never your fault," he told her fervently, another surge of anger at his brother rising. "It wasn't. The guy is just a bastard who doesn't care about anyone besides himself, and he always has been. So ... what do I do about this?"

"Have you seen him?" asked his mother again. "I mean, you're sure he's there? I guess ... " She sighed, and Chris could picture her rubbing her fingers over her forehead. "I guess that depends on what he's doing. And I just ... I guess I still can't believe that sweet Dani couldn't tell it wasn't you."

"She had no reason to think it wasn't," admitted Chris, rubbing his own forehead in unconscious imitation. "And it has to have been him, there's no other explanation. I think he's even been here a while, working up to this, Mom. I didn't tell you, but me and Dani ... things haven't been great. He never was stupid, after all. He obviously has some plan here. And I just don't know what it is."

His mother's voice was a little shakier when she replied, and Chris would've kicked himself for upsetting her if he didn't need her just then. "Well, maybe that was it," she said resignedly. "That boy has always been jealous of you, since before he left ... I think maybe neither one of us can imagine how much worse it is now. Maybe Dani was ... something he couldn't stand to see you have."

"He doesn't deserve someone like Dani," snapped Chris, pounding his fist into the back of the sofa. "I've worked hard for this and I'm not going to let him fuck it up." He closed his eyes, forcing the anger to a simmer inside him. He wouldn't take this out on his mother. "Maybe he's gotten what he wanted now. Maybe he'll go away. But you know ... you know I've always feared something like this ... "

"I know, shhh," his mother said soothingly, as Justin walked back into the room. He put a mug of coffee down on the table, looked at Chris questioningly, then squeezed his shoulder on his way back out. "But we can't be afraid of him. You just ... you work on getting Dani back, okay?"

"You know I will," he said, sitting up and wrapping his hand around the warm mug but not drinking from it. "You know what she means to me. Just ... watch your back, mom, promise me? You know how he can get, and you're right. It's surely only gotten worse."

"I will, honey," she said, and Chris could practically hear her smiling. "Don't you worry about me or the girls -- we do pretty good at taking care of ourselves. And you let me know if you need me, if you want me to try and talk to Dani for you."

"Would you?" he asked, tucking the phone between his ear and his shoulder so he could wrap both hands around the mug. It was warm out, but he still felt so cold. "I don't know if it'll help, but ... it can't hurt. I just don't know if I can make things right. He ... hurt her, I think. I don't know. She didn't quite say. Maybe she'll tell you, you're a girl and all."

His mother sounded like she wanted to laugh at the weak joke, but it came out strangled. The whole situation was making it so difficult. "Of course, I will. I'll give her a little bit of time, and call her this weekend, maybe. Don't you worry about that. You let the boys take care of you since I can't be down there to do it. Can one of them stay with you tonight?"

"I'm at Justin's," he admitted, looking around the room, for a moment expecting Justin to suddenly be there. "Dani didn't want me around while she packed and ... I wasn't going to push it. She's a mess." He didn't want to let himself think about that yet, though. Not until he was ready to deal with it. "Um ... thanks, mom."

"Honey, it's my job," she said quietly. "And I love you, and I'm not sure I tell you enough how proud I am of you. You've always been the bright star in my life." She cleared her throat; heartfelt declarations like that were rare between them. "Now you go tell Justin that I said he better make you some hot chocolate, or I'm calling Lynn. Got that?"

Chris grinned into the phone, eyeing his cup of coffee. "I'll tell him, mom. You know that boy's scared of his momma. Take care, all right? I mean it. I'll talk to you soon."

Justin entered the room again so shortly after he hung up the phone that it was obvious he'd been listening to at least the end of Chris's conversation, and that he wasn't even going to try and hide the fact.

"Something wrong with your mom?" he asked carefully, sitting down beside him on the couch.

Chris shook his head, falling silent as he finally sipped the coffee. "No, not with mom," he said. "See there was this thing, at home, and stuff happened, and that's why I'm here. And mom says to make me hot chocolate or she's gonna whup your butt. And you know she will."

"Dude, I put two shots of Bailey's in that coffee," Justin protested. "You can be happy with what you got." He sighed, then, and crouched over awkwardly to rest his cheek on Chris's shoulder. "I heard some of it. Tell me about it when you feel better, okay."

Chris took a long sip of the rapidly cooling coffee. "Make me another one of these and I'll be well on my way," he lied, licking his lips. "Don't you worry, it's fine. Just needed to talk to my mommy about girls and things."

"Okay, man," Justin said quietly, and Chris refused to look up and see the pout he knew was on Justin's lips. "You know where everything is; you can have your room and all. I'll be downstairs in the studio if you need me."

"I know how to hunt you down," Chris assured him. "I have years of practice at it. Liquor's in the kitchen still?"

Justin opened his mouth like he was going to comment on that, then shut it and just nodded. He picked up his own mug and backed out the door. "If you need me," he repeated.

Chris woke to noises coming from downstairs and was immediately on alert, still high strung from the previous day. Running a hand over his face and trying to focus his eyes, he rose from the faceplant he'd made into his bed when he'd come home at dawn and raced down the stairs in just his boxers and a warm sweatshirt that did little to keep the chill away.

"Get out of my house, you bastard," he shouted when he hit the bottom.

"Holy shit, Chris."

He turned toward the sound, a deep voice, and saw Lance standing frozen by the desk in the alcove he and Dani had used as an annex of their office, staring back at him in concern.

"I'm ... sorry, next time ... I guess I should've called ... "

"Lance," said Chris, and it took a moment for the recognition to send relief through his body. "You're Lance. Okay. That's good. That ... wasn't for you."

He looked around, seeing for the first time how empty the place seemed now; when he'd come in he'd gone out of his way not to look at any of it, not to see anything but the front door and the stairs and his bed.

"Okay?" Lance said slowly, raising his eyebrow, then following Chris's glance around the hall. "Wow, I guess I could have many, many responses to that. Maybe you need some coffee?" He took Chris's arm, and started leading him toward the kitchen, politely not commenting yet on what he had to notice were newly barer walls and bookshelves and floors.

"No, not coffee, hot chocolate," insisted Chris, letting himself be led. "My mom said so, and you know she's always right." Once the adrenaline rush had passed, at the sight of Lance, it was all he could do to keep himself upright as he stumbled along with him.

"Okay," Lance repeated. He could be a patronizing fucker, but there were times that Chris could appreciate that. Like right then. "Swiss Miss, or you want the real stuff?" He deposited Chris in a chair and reached for the cupboard, his mouth tightening into a thin line when he had to rise up on his tiptoes to reach the handful of mugs that Dani had left in the very back.

"Pamper me," insisted Chris as he slumped down. "You're a smart boy, behind it all. You know I need it." He didn't even look up after seeing the state of his kitchen, staring at his hands and letting the whole situation rush back at him.

"You don't look good," agreed Lance, grabbing a pot and some milk and then a couple Hershey bars from the box in the pantry Chris had gotten at Costco for emergencies. He made his way around the kitchen like it was his own. "Want some eggs, too?"

"Not hungry," said Chris, with an unamused snort. "That rumbling noise you're hearing isn't my stomach, there's just a storm coming in. So, were you sneaking around my house for sport, or did you need me for something?"

"I brought some papers for you to sign," Lance said calmly, heating the milk, not letting Chris bait him. "And you have until I'm done making this to start explaining on your own. Otherwise we're doing it my way." He turned around and grinned evilly at him, and Chris hated him for making him smile a little.

"I have a doorbell," muttered Chris, putting on his best sullen look to hide the smile. "And I think we all know how good you are at pushing buttons."

The thing about Lance, the reason Chris was as comfortable with him now as he hadn't been when they'd met, was he'd learned to give as good as he got, and he didn't let Chris get away with shit. And Chris had to admire that, and appreciate it even when he hated it. Like now.

Lance snorted. "What, and miss being screamed at by a half-dressed, stinky elf who should've been awake by one o'clock in the afternoon? No way, man."

"I know," said Chris, "I'm dreeeeeeamy. Just look at these sexy legs." He stretched one out and poked at Lance's calf with his foot.

"You're out of marshmallows," Lance informed him, setting the steaming drink in front of him on the table, then sitting down himself. "So it's kinda ghetto. But still good." He looked serious again, then, and Chris realized his time was up. "Kinda make you just want to spill your guts, doesn't it?"

"She took the marshmallows?" Chris blurted out, lifting his head to stare at the cupboards. "Now that's just low, don't you think? Good riddance, I say. I don't need no stinking marshmallow stealer around."

Sighing, Lance shook his head. "Chris. Come on, man. How about ... why don't you start with who you thought I was, this morning. We can work our way up to ... her."

"Oh, that's an easy one," said Chris, carefully sipping his drink and looking as perfectly calm as he could. "I thought you were Chaz." He lowered his drink and lifted his head to meet Lance's eyes and wondered if, even knowing who Chaz was, Lance could possibly get all the conflict that was behind that name.

Lance's jaw dropped a little, and that didn't help -- actually seeing something surprise a Lance that just didn't get ruffled anymore. "What?" he said, looking like he didn't understand, then looking around the kitchen like he thought he'd magically appear. "Why?"

"Because he's here," said Chris, dropping his eyes. "Somewhere he's here, came out of nowhere and started messing with my life, messing with my girlfriend. And, that means exactly what you think it means. Sick bastard."

"What?" Lance said again, his voice louder. "He did what? So ... why is she gone, then? If he did something ... uh, bad ... to her, I would think she'd be really depending on you right now ... "

"She doesn't even want to look at me right now," said Chris, forcing it to come out far, far lighter than he felt. "I have his face, after all. And, well, she didn't know it wasn't me. That's the thing about being twins, you know? Kinda hard to tell apart. Especially if you don't know your boyfriend has a twin."

"He pretended to be you?" Lance asked incredulously. "How could he get away with that? Oh, jeez, poor Dani ... " He looked truly upset, and concerned, and Chris wasn't sure he could handle that kind of sympathy from Lance just then.

"I think ... " said Chris slowly, sipping his drink. "I think maybe he's been pretending to be me for a while. Well, who wouldn't, right? I'm the mighty Chris Kirkpatrick, after all. Forget that Timberlake kid, all the guys dream of being me."

"Shit, Chris." Lance looked serious, and worried, and offended, of all things. "That is so not right. Have you seen him? Do you think he's done it to anyone else? I mean, pretended to be you, to anybody else? Do you ... do you want to call somebody? Like, um ... the police?"

Chris sighed and rubbed his forehead and eyes, feeling a headache coming on fast. "I haven't seen him," he said finally. "For all I know he's done it to a dozen people. More. JC and Joey might've gone out for drinks with him last night. I just ... don't know."

"And you can't get in touch with him," Lance said slowly, not really making it into a question. "What do you think he's up to?" An uncomfortable expression crossed his face. "You don't talk about him much. It's hard to tell how, uh, dangerous he might be."

"I haven't seen him in almost fifteen years," Chris reminded him. "I don't know how dangerous he might be. All I know is that he was a selfish bastard when we were kids and ... well, what he did to Dani. The fact that he hasn't come home in all that time. That I haven't seen or even heard of him since the day he left home. Lance, your guess is as good as mine when it comes to what he's up to. I don't know him at all."

Sighing, Lance leaned back in his chair. "Okay," he said, always the practical one. "Well, until we know what he's up to, I guess we just ... sit and wait. And all be a little more cautious. I'll call the guys, tell them to be more aware, or whatever ... " He trailed off, looking around the bare room again. "What are you going to do about Dani? He ... he didn't, uh, physically do anything to her, did he?"

Chris lifted his head and didn't answer, which was answer enough. "Yeah, I need to talk to the rest of the guys about this," he said finally. "And security. And management. And probably the label, too. Gonna have the time of my life for the next while. Party on, Chaz." There were a few other choice words he could have added to that, but he didn't voice them. He was pretty sure Lance was coming up with a few of his own.

"I'll take care of it," Lance said tightly, standing up and hovering over him. "Okay? Don't worry about it, Chris, I'll do all that. You just ... " He faltered, obviously not quite knowing what to tell Chris to do with himself, since they were on break, and Dani was gone. "Um, take a shower."

Chris ducked his head down and sniffed himself. "I'm not that bad," he muttered, avoiding the subject entirely now. "You ever smelled Joey after a show? It's a wonder JC puts up with him, getting all snuggly in the dressing room and everything. They're sick, sick boys."

"Yes," Lance said, patting his shoulder, his patronizingly cool demeanor returned. "They are. And if you're lucky, maybe they'll come over later and be disgustingly cute around you and then let you punch them so you can feel better." He waited for Chris to stand up, then let him walk him out into the hall where he grabbed his jacket. "Those papers are on your desk, okay? But no rush. I'll call you later, check on you. And tell you when I got in touch with everyone. It's gonna be fine. Go shower."

"Yeah, call me," said Chris. "Cause you know I love the sound of your voice, Bass. Now get out of here before your heebie jeebies spread to me. I'll be fine."

Lance chuckled and blew him a kiss, then hurried down the steps to his car. Chris watched him drive away, then closed the door, turning the locks purposefully. And stared at his home, a million times emptier than it had been the same time yesterday, with no real sense of where to start.

It did need to be picked up, and the last thing he wanted right now was a stranger in his home to do it. Even right next to the door his jackets had been dumped off their hooks onto the floor -- an obvious sign that Dani has been more than a little distraught when she'd packed up -- and he figured that was as good a place as any to start.

He hung them up with a meticulous care that wasn't warranted, but it made him feel useful. And when he got to the last of them he found a plain white envelope sitting on the floor, his name in block letters on the front of it. Like a buried treasure, just waiting for him to unearth it. As he knelt down to pick it up, he got a chill.

They were holding hands, which, considering how much they'd touch each other all the time in other ways -- Joey's hand on JC's back, JC's chin over Joey's shoulder, safe in each other's laps in cars and Suburbans and buses and limos -- they didn't actually do that often. But Chris hadn't actually needed the extra clue that whatever they were about to say was a big deal.

JC nodded at Joey, and there was some sort of subtle exchange, like JC was encouraging him to do something, and not for the first time. "It's okay," he mouthed, and smiled that classic smile of his. The real one.

Taking a deep breath, Joey looked at the rest of them -- him; and Lance, sprawled in one of Chris's chairs; and finally Justin, sitting uncomfortably on the floor -- and smiled too, if a lot less confidently.

"Okay," he said. "Okay, before I even say anything, this is something we're both really happy about, so ... you know, don't fuck it up by reacting the wrong way." He cleared this throat. "Kelly's pregnant."

"Wow," Chris blurted out. "Nice one, Fatone. I always knew you were a potent guy."

He grinned at them as the news hit; it was so, so much better than what he needed to tell them himself. And might have just made things so, so much worse, too, but he wasn't even going to think about that. Not yet. He looked at JC again and saw that he was smiling even more as Joey said it.

"It is yours, right? I assume, considering you're telling us and all?"

"Wow," Lance echoed. He was smiling too, but Chris could see the calculations in his head about the chain of repercussions this would have, and who should tell who when, and Chris wished that he could just relax for once and enjoy it.

Justin surprised him a little by grinning more than probably either of them put together, almost as wide as JC, and rocking back and forth on the ground excitedly. Chris wouldn't have thought he, of all of them, would be the one to take such simple pleasure in the promise of a baby in their lives.

"When?" he asked excitedly. "When when when?"

"Late March, maybe," JC cut in smoothly. Chris could see him massaging the heel of Joey's hand from where he sat. "We'll probably ... I mean, the baby will be living with us. When we're at home, at least. To start."

Chris wasn't entirely sure what to make of that, it certainly wasn't what he'd been expecting. Then again, neither was a baby. Maybe Lance had the right idea after all; there were a lot of details to be calculated now. A lot of details.

"What, you're gonna steal the baby from his momma that young?" Chris asked. "What's she got to say about that?"

"It's a baby, not a puppy, Chris," JC said carefully. "It doesn't need to be socialized."

Joey cleared his throat, and JC gracefully let him take over. "Obviously, this was an accident," he said, his chin held a little higher. "And you guys all already knew about ... when it happened. Kelly, she wasn't sure she was ready. To have it. Not alone, at least. And me and Jace ... " He trailed off, and his eyes went automatically back to his lover, more shyly than Chris thought he'd ever see from a Fatone.

"Oh," said Chris, staring at them both, realizing the implications of that. That Joey hadn't just fathered a child, but Joey and JC were going to be parents. "OH!"

All at once he was thrilled for them, scared for them, scared for the group and worried that something in his life was gonna mess things up for them. He didn't know what to feel most or feel first or say, at all. He was smiling though, he could feel himself smiling, but he wasn't sure if it was his happiness expressing itself or an instinctive need to show them all that everything was okay.

Joey smiled back at him and laughed, while JC grinned approvingly. Even Justin seemed happier at Chris's reaction, leaning over and squeezing the back of his neck.

Lance exhaled, and then looked up when he realized everyone else had their eyes on him. "What? That's ... great, guys. Really." Chris pretended he didn't see the extra long look he gave him. "So ... does that mean this is pretty permanent? For y'all?"

Joey leaned over and nuzzled the side of JC's neck, and that -- that -- was more what Chris was used to seeing between them. It was JC that answered: "You didn't get that memo, Bass?"

"You didn't get it notarized," Chris butted in, flashing his grin at Lance. "I'm sure that's what he was waiting for. And did you file the paperwork on time?" He gave them a stern look, and went on before they could interrupt. "Slackers. No wonder he didn't know."

With all this happiness, Chris didn't know how to bring up his news. Maybe it could wait for another time ... but no, it was eating away at him, telling him that they needed to know. He couldn't just pretend it was his problem alone.

Justin cackled and crawled up onto to couch, sprawling across Joey's and JC's laps, giving them both wet kisses on the mouth and then blushing furiously. Making Chris's task harder still.

"Congratulations," said Justin. "That's the best news in, like, ever, and I can't wait until you decide you want me to be his godfather. Hers. And name her. Him."

Joey laughed, and tickled Justin's ribs, and JC and Lance shared a look. Chris just hugged himself, trying to be happy for them, and hating Chaz with all his heart for ruining this moment for him.

"You guys are going to be great daddies," he said after a moment. Warm fuzzy bunnies still filled the room and he wasn't prepared to be the one to kill them. "Especially you, Joey. Because, you know, you think just like a kid. So, can we ask questions or is it time for the group hug?"

Lance snorted, and Justin sat up. "You can ask questions," JC said calmly, catching the undercurrent there. "I know this is a big surprise for you guys, and we kinda have to talk about what impact it's going to have, what impact we WANT it to have, on the next year or so ... "

"No group hug then?" said Chris. "But I showered and everything! I'm all disappointed now." He looked from Lance to Justin, then back at Joey and JC. "I get to be the chief question-asker, then?" he said, more a confirmation than a question.

Justin looked content just to be thrilled about it, and Lance was still locked inside his own extrapolations. Neither looked like he was about to quiz the other two on anything yet.

"Are you guys ... is she giving you custody?" he surged on ahead to ask. "Full? Are you gonna bring her with you, everywhere? Are we gonna have a playpen backstage now? And most importantly, is that baby gonna steal my toys?"

Joey shifted uncomfortably, and Chris started to get the picture of whose idea this meeting was. More, at least. "I think ... we're gonna try not to make this a legal thing," he said slowly, looking at JC obviously for help.

"She'll stay with Kel when we're on tour next year," JC said, much more confidently. "She'll just be too young. After that ... we'll just see."

"I don't think Joey and JC want their baby anywhere near anything you call a toy, Kirkpatrick," Lance interrupted, and Chris was grateful to him for the backup.

"Wow," said Chris. While it was obvious Joey and JC hadn't worked out the details yet, it was also obvious that they weren't changing their minds about this. Not that Chris wanted them to, but ... it did make things so much more complicated. "Go, daddies, go," he went on, before they could realize he was lost in thought. "And for the record? I don't do diapers, so just don't even go there. I'll be weird uncle Chris and spoil your kid rotten, but the stinky diapers are all yours."

"We can handle stinky diapers," said JC, practically blissful about it. Chris gave up on him right then and there.

"You guys okay with this?" Joey asked, looking at Justin first who just nodded vigorously and kissed him again, whispering "godfather" but not quietly enough. "Really?"

"I'll let you know when I manage to reassemble my brain," snorted Chris, still grinning at them. This question, at least, he knew the answer to. "You kinda broke it when you mentioned there was going to be a baby underfoot soon." But when Joey's face started falling, he quickly went on. "Dorks. Of course I'm okay with it. Just look at you two daddies, you're all glowing and stuff. You'd think you were the ones that were pregnant."

Joey shuddered, and JC chuckled. "You're not supposed to call us that until the baby's born," he insisted. "Bad luck."

"Oh, bad luck, whatever," scoffed Chris, though he probably shouldn't have been. Anything that smacked of bad luck felt ominous, now.

"We're cool," Lance said, more evenly. "This is really great news. We just ... have to be careful about how we're gonna handle it. You guys'll be under a little more scrutiny than you have been."

"Lance is right, about the careful thing," said Chris, somewhat grateful for the opening. JC and Joey were well versed in how to keep their relationship under wraps anyway, but then there was the rest. "Though I'm hardly one to lecture about responsibility. But, you know, little helpless baby ... we'll all have to watch out for her, you know? It's a big bad world out there."

"Or him," JC said, and it sounded amusingly automatic. "It's really going to be fine. Kelly's cool, now, and obviously Phyllis and Joe are, like, ecstatic. I'll probably sell my house ... "

"What are you getting at, Chris?" Lance interrupted.

"Yeah," Joey said uneasily. "Um. Is that ... Lance told us. About ... about Chaz. And so ... I was just wondering if that was bothering you."

Chris exhaled slowly, and gave Lance a grateful look that he had, in fact, taken care of that for him. "Maybe this isn't the time," he mumbled, not meeting their eyes now as guilt flooded him. "We're all about happy news right now ...and Chaz isn't good news at all ... "

Everyone already looked uncomfortable now, so it didn't seem to matter like it had when Chris was making the effort to keep his mouth shut before. "If we need to talk about it," JC said softly, "we should. We're done."

"Did something happen, Chris?" Justin asked, looking concerned. "I mean ... something else? More?"

Chris hesitated again, long enough that they would all know something else was wrong "Well ... I have confirmation that it's him, anyway," he said. "Like there was any doubt." He took a piece of paper out of his pocket, one that had been crumpled and re-crumpled many times already, and smoothed it out on his lap, staring at it. "He's as lousy at grammar as he always was."

Justin practically fell off the sofa, craning his neck to try and read it upside down, and JC and Joey looked at each other. Lance stared at Chris. "It's from him," he said. "When did you find that?"

"Inside my house," said Chris, almost hissing the words in spite of his best efforts. "He left it for me." The words were already fading from the creases he'd put in the paper, but were still legible. Few as they were. He didn't really need to say anything else. His body language was saying it all for him. And these four people knew how to read that better than almost anyone.

"When," Lance repeated, and Justin flinched. Stuff like that scared him more than the rest of them combined.

JC touched Joey's neck, then leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "Can you tell us what it says, Chris?"

"I could, but then I'd have to kill you," said Chris, recrumpling the piece of paper in his hand. He didn't laugh. "I don't know why he's come back after all this time, but he has. And he says he's watching me. And ... he says he's met all of you." He looked up again, then, expecting to see faces that were now as pale as his own.

"Fuck," Justin muttered, and did fall off the couch. "Fuck, that's messed up."

"No way," Lance said firmly, at the other end of the spectrum. "Sorry, no. I would know. I would know if it wasn't you, Chris. That's ... that's crap."

"Would you?" said Chris, facing him. "If you only saw me for a minute or two, in passing? If we hardly talked?" He looked away again and shook his head. "I've been going over and over it in my mind ... and it would be easy, to make sure he looked just like me. Was styled like me. Dressed like me. Talked like me. We're only on TV every day, showing ourselves off to the world."

"Don't," Justin said quietly. "Don't you dare blame this on that, on us. What we do ... that doesn't give anybody the right to do what he did. What he's doing. I don't care if he's your brother."

"So that wasn't it," JC said slowly. "Dani wasn't it. And now ... now you're worried about us? And ... the baby?"

"I don't know what he's up to," admitted Chris. "And I don't know what he wants. And until I do ... I'm worried about everyone I know. You know I've always wondered what became of him ... but this is the first time I've ever worried that he'd be a danger to me, and to my friends and my family. I didn't know what he was capable of ... until Dani." Which he wasn't sure he was ever going to forgive himself for.

The rest of the guys all exchanged a look, and Chris wondered fleetingly what they thought had happened. What Lance had assumed, and told them.

"We know, though, Chris," Joey spoke up carefully. "You told us. And now we know what he might do, we'll all be careful ... "

"We'll take care of each other," JC finished for him. "Don't worry, Chris. We're ... we're your brothers. Not him."

"I know," said Chris, with a smile that was almost entirely mirthless. "And you always will be. Smoochies and all that, boys. Love ya. Mean it." He took a breath. "Okay ... which is why I'm so worried. I don't know if we can be too careful, about this. The guy's a born bastard, and he has it in for me."

Justin leaned over and held him close, and JC and Joey followed off the sofa. Even Lance descended from his perch to wrap his arms around the pile, and suddenly Chris had the group hug he hadn't really realized he'd wanted so badly after all.

"Take care of each other," Justin echoed JC quietly. "So don't worry."

All six of the huge, intimidating black men filed into the small conference room on the Compound, faces stoic, with only the briefest of glances for Chris who sat waiting at the table. All six, meaning the other four guys must be safe at home -- which was really considerate of them, Chris realized, and made him feel slightly better about what he was going to have to talk about.

"Okay, Kirkpatrick," Mike said, pressing his palms together as he sat down across from him. "This is your show. What's going on?"

Chris hesitated for only a moment as he composed what he was going to tell them. Mike didn't want to hear any convoluted stories from him, any jokes, anything other than the facts about what was going on that they needed to know about.

"There may be a bit of a situation," he said finally, looking around the table at all of them. "My brother -- " He paused, waited for them all to remember. " -- my twin brother, is here. And he's been impersonating me. And I'm worried he might be dangerous."

And all of them, all of the bodyguards down to a man, shifted in their seats at that. "Describe dangerous," Mike said evenly. "And then tell me when you first discovered this."

"Can I do that backwards?" asked Chris, smiling then letting it fall when none of them returned it. "It's just been a couple days. I thought it was an isolated incident at first, using my girlfriend to get back at me for some wrong he thought I did him. But then. Um. I got this." He pulled the crumpled note out of his pocket and passed it over. "Found it. He left it in my house."

"And how did he gain entrance to your house?" asked Mike, as he reached for the piece of paper. Chris squirmed a little with how ... official they were being, but he also knew that not personalizing it would help them all do their jobs. "Does he have a key, or have you lost your keys? How could he have access to the security code?"

"I don't know," said Chris, chewing his lip and dying to crack a joke. "I think maybe he got it from Dani. She wouldn't know she wasn't talking to me. He could have watched her do the security code if he came in with her. I changed it as soon as I got that note. Dani doesn't even know it anymore; no one except me."

"And us." It wasn't a request. Chris fidgeted some more as Mike's eyes scanned slowly down the paper, his jaw tightening as he got to some part in particular. Chris wished he knew which part it was.

He grunted when he got to the end and passed the paper flat across the table to Lonnie, whose reaction mirrored Mike's so closely it should have been funny.

"How much do you believe what he's saying, there?" asked Mike carefully. "How much faith do you have in him telling the truth?"

"I would think it was all bullshit to scare me," said Chris, "except for what he already did to Dani. She was convinced it was me -- so convinced that she's gone. Moved out." They barely even reacted to that. "And if she was convinced, I don't doubt other people could be, too. "

Mike sat back in his chair and exchanged a look with the other men around the table as he crossed his hands behind his head. "Okay," he said emotionlessly. "So let's get back to my earlier question. Namely ... why you think he's dangerous."

"Because it sounds like he hates me," said Chris, nodding at the note which was still being passed around. "And I don't know what he's capable of, I don't know him well enough at all. He obviously doesn't care enough about his family to contact them in 15 years, so why should he care about anyone else? And Dani ... what he did to Dani ... " His voice broke a little and he looked down at the table, away from their prying eyes.

"We'll increase your security," Mike declared gruffly, self-assured in his power to make it happen. "And ... I know you expected this, coming to us, but it's going to mean the extra precautions, Chris. Which I can only promise you, we like as little as you do."

Chris just nodded, unsurprised. "The other guys aren't gonna be happy," he said knowingly. But he also knew they were supporting him in this. "Is there anything ... legal, we can do? To stop him from doing anything?"

Mike glanced around the room again. "Until we have a clearer sense of what the danger is," he said haltingly, " ... no. I don't think so. That note isn't explicitly threatening, for one. And the fact that he didn't really break into your house, even if he was deceptive in how he did get in ... we just don't have much to take to the authorities, Chris." He paused, and met Chris's eyes. "But we'll look into it, okay? You just ... do what you need to do. You're smart, and you did the right thing by telling us right away. Keep that up, and everybody's gonna be fine."

Chris just nodded again. "All I want is for everyone to be safe," he said, wincing again at the memories of Dani, and the look in her eyes when they realized what had been done to her. "And I know you guys can do it. If you could, can you arrange for someone to keep an eye on my family? I'm as worried about them as I am about everyone here ... "

"We'll take care of it," Mike nodded, then looked up at Chris again as if to ask if that was it, so they could get down to business. It was as much of a dismissal as any of the security team would ever presume to give them.

Chris nodded and stood up, and was at least a little comforted by the knowledge that he was doing everything he could.