SA: So what about JC? [Sarcastic.] There was a horrible rumour that there was a rift between you two. Surely that's not true.

JT: [High-pitched.] Really?

SA: Yeah.

JT: [Softly spoken.] I beat him up. [Makes fist motion along with sound effects.]

SA: [Humouring Justin.] Did you?

JT: [Quickly.] Um, no. I went to his birthday party, which was a lot of fun.

SA: What did you get him?

JT: What did I get him? [SA nods, and JT stutters slightly.]  A big hug and a smile. [Grins.]

SA: [Sarcastic.] That's cheap.

MO: Come on, Justin.

JT: [Looking away.] Well, you know. He's rich. JC's rich.

SA: But so are you, you should have got him something.

JT: [Quietly.] Yeah, I guess so. [Fiddles with his fingers.]  I'll get him something for Christmas...

Tuna salad on a fresh croissant and a handful of potato chips.  A tall glass of ice water with a twist of lemon.  JC had just added two sweet gherkins to his plate when the chirp of his cell phone interrupted what promised to be a peaceful lunch.  When he checked the caller ID and saw Chris' name he had a pretty good idea what it was all about.  He sighed and answered the phone.

"Chris.  What a surprise."

"Shut up, dumb ass." Chris wasted no time getting to the point. "J's talking himself stupid with these random mentions, you know."

"If he's stupid it's not my fault," JC said dryly, and picked at his croissant.  "Don't even pretend that I'm the ass in this situation."

"Jesus, Jace, he's trying.  Every time he mentions you in an interview, you know he's trying to apologize. God, that damn stubborn streak of yours--"  Chris paused, and JC recognized the frustrated grunt that followed.  "You know how sorry he's got to be if he's doing this."

"Yeah," JC said.  He bit into his sandwich and savored the way the buttery, slightly sweet croissant complemented the tuna.

Dude, he's trying to apologize," Chris repeated.  "Meet him halfway.  Please?"

"Give me one reason why I should," JC said around the mouthful of sandwich.

"'Cause he loves you."

JC snorted.

"You love him."

JC swallowed his mouthful and took a sip of water.

"The two of you are driving me fucking crazy," Chris finished.

Chris had been kind enough during the past weeks to direct JC's attention to various web sites containing clips of Justin's recent interviews because, "God forbid you'd believe it just because I told you."  The shout-outs were certainly a departure for Justin, who never uttered JC's name in an interview if he could help it.  Four such occurrences in as many weeks was surely a signal; Chris knew it and he knew it.

"You're going to tell me - honestly - that you don't know that he's missing you like crazy?  Hunh?  Truly?"

"No."  JC picked at his sandwich again.  "No."

"Have you heard the latest?" Chris asked.

Now five occurrences.

When JC didn't respond, Chris said, "Check your email, then click the link, wise up, and call J before I break both your skinny asses in two.  Got it?"

"He just," JC said, and rubbed his eyes.  "Chris--"

"I know," Chris said, and his voice softened.  "I'll talk to little bro about relationships and remind him of shit he should've learned by now.  It'll be OK.  You guys will be OK."

"I love him," JC said.

"I know, babe.  He loves you, too."

JC nodded slowly to himself before he said, "I know."

"So, check your email.  Click the link.  Don't let me down, Spazz."

"Fuck you," JC said, but his mouth curved in a smile.  "Thanks, Critter."

"Not a problem.  Talk later, man.  Love you."

"Love you, too."

When JC read the transcript, his chest tightened as his fingers curled around the armrest of his chair.  "No fair making me feel this way, you little shit," he muttered aloud.  He read it once more, then a third time before he emailed an extremely short message to Chris: "I hate you."  He emailed Johnny and asked that a tape of the appearance be messengered over.

He read the transcript again.

After JC had resigned himself to leaving voicemail, his heart rising a little higher in his throat after each ring, Justin's phone finally rang through.  Lonnie answered with, "If it isn't Chasez, our man in LA.  'Sup, man?"

"Hey, Lonnie," JC said, "let me guess.  Photo shoot?  Interview?"

"Nah," Lonnie laughed, big and warm and familiar, "try pants with no pockets.  Hang on."  JC heard him call out, "Little Man!  Yo, phone!  You'll want it."

There was a moment of silence, then, "C?"

So," JC said softly, not trusting his voice, "What am I getting for Christmas?"