Pairing: AJ and Justin
Words: amok; inept; initiate; instinct


"So," AJ said conversationally, "how'd you get here?"

Justin looked around wildly.  He'd been on-stage just a second ago,
lights on him, singing, the screaming fans loud despite his
earpiece, and now... the shock of suddenly finding himself in a
still, silent wood was just too much.

He fell to his knees.  Tree lint all around.  His hands were in
dirt.  *Dirt.* Pine needles.  Tree roots.  Beyond the circle of
trees, he could see grass and sun.  Real sunshine.  The real
outdoors.  AJ was reclining against the nearest tree, arms crossed
over his chest.  "What the...?"

"Yeah, that was my first reaction, too.  After wondering if this
was some kind of drug flashback.  Apple?"

Justin shook his head.  That didn't much help.  "There's something
really wrong about you lying there under a tree offering me an
apple."

AJ smirked.  "Yeah, I can dig that.  Garden of Eden.  Wouldn't it
just piss people off to find out that it's really Adam and Steve
after all?"

Justin laughed, then got to his feet.  "Where are we anyway?  I was
doing a show in Orlando, but this sure as hell doesn't look like
Florida."

"Looks like parts of California," AJ offered.  "And, before you
ask, yeah, I was in Cali, but in L.A., not anywhere that looked
anything like this.  My first instinct was to try to get help, but
you don't go from dancing in a club at *night*, to the middle of a
sunny day instantaneously.  It just doesn't work like that, y'know? 
I've been waiting for the White Rabbit to come through telling me
he's late, but you'll do, Timberlake."

"So you're just sitting there on your ass waiting for something to
happen, when the people who kidnapped us could be out there
plotting something?"

"I'd like to point out -- again -- that I was on a *dance floor*
and then I was here.  Now, unless I hate myself even more than I
previously suspected and my twisted mind dreamed you up to punish
me for my past sins, this is just plain impossible.  So going
looking for kidnappers is stupid."

"Okay, just saying I buy all that?"

AJ arched an eyebrow over his glasses.

"Even saying that, anyone who could do that could find us anywhere,
so why the hell are you just sitting there when you could be
getting a ride back to civilization?"

AJ shrugged.  "Nothing better to do?"

"Well, I got better stuff to do.  You can come if you want.  I
don't care."  Justin set off.

AJ considered him, then got up, stuck his hands in his pockets and
ambled after him.  Justin stopped to wait.  "Might as well come
along.  Like I said, not like I have anything better to do."

Justin started striding away, but AJ kept to the same unhurried
pace and, after a while, Justin matched him.

"Geez, can't you walk any faster?"

"Sure, but it's not like we're walking *to* anywhere," AJ pointed
out with impeccable logic.  "If we have no idea how long we'll be
walking, I don't see any reason to get worn out by charging around
the countryside."

"C'mon, you said this looks like California.  There'll be a 7-11
any minute."

"Dunno about that.  You seen a power line or a phone line anywhere? 
Or a plane doohickey in the sky?  Or heard a car?  I think,
wherever we are, we're pretty far out.  Some wilderness area or
something."

"Oh."

"So, we could be here a while.  Plus..."

"Plus what?"  Justin was starting to look worried.

"Don't want to tell you.  I got some ideas, but I'd rather be
wrong, and one of us might as well be thinking there's a McDonald's
over the next hill."

"Instead of what, a Turkish army camp?"

"Maybe," AJ said, but that was all he'd allow to, and they kept
walking.

After about an hour, they came across a path of sorts.  AJ examined
it and pronounced it, "A hiking trail, maybe."

"Definitely!  So, we're like, what?  In the Big Sur or something?"

"Yeah.  Something."

"What?  In what way does that not look like a hiking trail?"

"Too wide, for one thing.  And--" AJ pointed, "wagon ruts."

"From the settlers!  The Gold Rush!"

"Uh huh.  That's why..." they heard a noise and froze.  Turned
around and saw a horse, with a half-naked woman riding it and
another half-naked woman walking beside it.  On the other side,
also walking, was a man in a clanking assortment of clothing.  It
was the clanking noise that'd carried over the sound of their
argument.

"People!" Justin said.

"Really funny looking people," AJ observed.  "Not exactly wearing
hiking clothes either."

"Actors!  We're in California, all right."

AJ looked around them.  "Actors?  Out here?  Why?  Where's the film
crew?  Nah.  Not possible."

"But look at their outfits.  That isn't real armor.  And no one
dresses like that.  Their tits would flop out if they tried to do
anything.  And look at the guy.  No way could anyone fight in
that."

"Well, yeah, there is that."

"So, actors!  We're saved!"

As the trio got closer, Justin called out, "Hey, you got any idea
where we are?"

The man gave them a confused look.  "What, you mean other than
Greece?"

****

AJ'd been convinced within five seconds of meeting the two women
and their strange comrade that their story was, if not the truth,
then certainly as believable as the drug flashback theory he'd been
going with earlier.  No White Rabbit, but hey, ancient Greece, and
all the Greek gods and goddesses were real, and no one had any idea
how they'd gotten there, but all three of their new friends had
seemed to think this kind of thing was commonplace.  Like everyday,
vortexes opened in the space-time continuum and dropped in
strangers from a strange land.

He snickered to himself, earning a dirty look from Justin, who was
going not-so-quietly nuts.

"It's a stage set, right?" Justin said, pacing the confines of
their tiny, shoddy room at the inn.  Their new friends had taken
them into town, and hocking one of AJ's less favorite rings had set
them up with what Joxer had assured them was the best room in the
best inn in town.

It was a shithole, and that wasn't saying much for shitholes.

"Uh huh," AJ said, squashing a cockroach underfoot.  "Because we
both know stage sets all have rooms with four walls."

"Shut up.  I'm having a nervous breakdown here.  The least you
could do is indulge me."

"No, the least I could do is go downstairs and get very drunk and
hope I wake up somewhere else.  Or maybe find out if Bondage Barbie
and her mistress are into threesomes."

"No way."

AJ gave him a cocky grin.  "Why not?  They're obviously together,
but they travel with that third guy.  And I'm not getting a sex
vibe there, but if they'll travel with him then they're not
out-and-out Amazon manhaters."

"They're not lesbians."

"Were you raised by blind monks?  Oh, never mind.  You were,
weren't you?"  AJ patted Justin on the shoulder, pityingly, a
gesture that came across fairly well, despite that AJ had to reach
up to do so.  "The two leather babes are completely in lust with
each other.  Vibes all over the place, baby.  And if this is my
hallucination, then I'm getting laid in it, by God."

"You're completely oversexed, aren't you?"

"Yep."

AJ opened the door to their room.  Justin followed him.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Justin shrugged.  "The blind monks didn't give me much guidance. 
Figured I might as well watch the master at work."

"So you want the clumsy guy, huh?"

"Shut up."  Justin shoved him.

"I don't think it's gonna do you much good.  If I'm reading it
right, he's totally hung-up on Barbie.  Not that she gives a damn."

"If she doesn't want him, why would she want you?  You're almost as
much of a dork as he is."

AJ gave him a hurt look and headed downstairs.  "I got moves, baby. 
AJ McLean is one sexy bitch."

"AJ McLean is a nutcase," Justin said, but followed him downstairs.

In the inn's common room, they found their rescuers sitting with
two men, a tall muscular brown haired man, and a short mouthy
blonde.  Both wore open vests much like the one AJ was wearing,
except that AJ's was black leather.

Justin elbowed AJ.  "Looks like you were wrong.  They're not
lesbos.  And you're shit out of luck.  Their dates are here."

AJ ran an assessing eye over the newcomers.  "Nah.  I'm good. 
They're as gay as those blind monks who were supposed to initiate
you into the wonders of the heterosexual world and failed."

"Hey!  JC and Chris aren't gay!  Er... Chris isn't.  I don't
think."

"Notice that *I'm* not the one who named names."  AJ was smirking. 
He made a gesture toward the table.  "Now if you'll excuse me?"

Justin winced as AJ sat down in between the two women, arms over
their shoulders and exclaimed "Ladies!"  Yeah, *really* smooth
moves there.  He hadn't seen a more inept attempt at picking up
chicks since... okay, well, there was that time in Germany when
Chris was trying to show him how it was done and the 'chick' he'd
tried to pick up was actually a guy in drag and she'd punched him,
and...

The dark-haired one was smiling at AJ.  Justin kinda sorta
recognized that smile.  Lance had a smile like that.  To Justin, it
usually meant, 'Run like hell'.

AJ wasn't.

Justin covered his eyes with his hand, then peeked out from behind
his fingers.  Yeah.  Oh, yeah.  The chick had AJ by his vest and
was holding him up off the ground.

As amusing as it'd be to see a Backstreet Boy get punched out, AJ
*was* the only person he knew in this whole screwed-up mess.  It'd
really be good if he could keep him from getting killed.  If AJ was
right and this was all real, then that kind of thing could really
happen.  And it wasn't like they had bodyguards here to save them
when things went bad.

He went through options, discarding them.  Not that he'd had a lot
of experience in corralling boybanders run amok -- that was Lance's
job, except when it *was* Lance running amok, in which case it was
Joey's job -- but he knew what to do, theoretically.  He'd been
'handled' often enough, after all.  The situation really demanded
a Chris-type approach, he decided, and dashed forward.

"Honey!" he said dramatically, throwing himself on his knees in
front of AJ.  "I didn't mean it!  I'd never leave you.  Please,
please, please, don't do this.  I still love you.  You have to come
back to me.  You know you're the only one for me."

The dark-haired woman looked from AJ to Justin.  "You?  And him?" 
Her tone suggested that she'd turned over a rock somewhere and
there they were.

"Yes," Justin said, nodding frantically.  "He's my one and only. 
My... um... one desire.  My fire.  Believe me, when I say.  I want
it that way."

"You've got to be kidding me," AJ said, feet kicking in the air.

"See, we're two worlds apart.  But he, like, um, reaches for my
heart and, um..."

AJ gave him an exasperated look.  "Ain't nothing but a heartache." 
He gave Justin a meaningful look which said absolutely nothing to
Justin.  His brain for lyrics was just completely gone right at the
moment.  AJ prompted, "Ain't nothing but a mistake."

Oh!  Duh.  "Tell me why?"  He injected a note of plaintiveness into
his voice.

"I can see that we've fallen apart, from the way that it used to
be."

"Yeah?"  This was beginning to sound way more familiar.  Way too
familiar, really.  With the edge of
the-really-hot-chick's-about-to-kill-AJ panic passing, the
absurdity of the situation was getting to him.  He was quoting
Backstreet Boys lyrics to get out of a tense situation.  He was,
actually, fighting the urge to laugh.  Or ask if AJ thought he was
sexual.

"Justin," AJ said.  "No matter the distance, I want you to know,
that deep down inside of me, I want it that way."  He gave Justin
a big sappy grin.

The dark-haired woman set him down.  "So you two are lovers?"

Justin stood up, wrapping his arms around AJ, and gave him a fake
adoring look.  Britney #3; 'I Love You, I Want To Marry You, But
We're Too Young'.  "He's the one."

AJ permitted himself to be held, then smiled suddenly. 
Brilliantly.  Not fakely as far as Justin could tell, but scarily. 
AJ didn't smile.  He smirked.  He grinned.  Not this large,
tooth-flashing smile.  "You can call me selfish, but all I want is
his love."

Justin resisted the temptation to stomp on AJ's foot.  "C'mon,
honey darling dearest.  Let's go back to our room and make up."

"Can I have you up against the wall?" AJ asked.

"Sure, shorty," Justin said, leading him away, keeping his arm
around AJ's waist.  He didn't look back at their audience.

AJ permitted himself to be led, but once they were back in the
room, door safely shut behind him, he bent over, holding his
stomach and laughing.  "Oh, my God, Timberlake.  You really use
that kind of line?  I mean -- I can understand wanting to use our
lyrics, but," he laughed, "oh man, when you can't even *remember*
them?"

"Shut up.  I couldn't think of anything else.  You try to think
under pressure."

"Hey, I remembered the words to *your* songs, didn't I?"

"Yeah, well," Justin said, sulkily, "that's different."

"Yeah, because yours suck."

"I hate this place," Justin said.  "I hate being here.  It's awful,
it's dingy, it stinks and everything about it sucks.  I want to go
home."

"Yeah, well," AJ said, straightened out and going to flop down on
the bed, "it's not exactly my idea of a vacation, either, but look
at it this way -- you're out of the eyes of the public.  Absolutely
no one knows who either of us are.  We can do anything, be anything
we want to be, and no one will know or care."

"Which is also the downside."

"You *like* having people following you everywhere you go, trying
to get a picture of your naked ass, stealing your fucking *trash*,
never leaving you alone for a second?"

"No.  But I like knowing someone's going to notice if I get hurt or
die.  Or didn't you realize that you could've really gotten hurt
down there?  And no one would've stopped her?  Or cared?  Except
for me, obviously, because I don't want to get stuck here alone,
because that's the only thing that's worse than being stuck here at
all."

"I was fine," AJ said.

"You were so not fine.  She was going to beat you up, and that's if
you were lucky."

"Okay, so maybe I wasn't fine.  But... oh, hell."  AJ let out his
breath all at once and kind of deflated, collapsing into himself
where he was lying on the bed.  "You're probably right.  I don't
want to think about it.  It's depressing as fuck when you get right
down to it.  Lost, alone except for *you* in some screwed up place
that never really existed at all as far as I can tell, and it's bad
when it's almost more comforting to think that I'm going nuts than
that it's really happening and that I have to come to grips with
maybe spending the *next* 25 years of my life here."

Justin moved over to sit on the bed.  "Well, you know," he began
tentatively.  "You're a good singer.  So'm I.  They probably have
music here.  I mean, I'm sure they do.  We can get famous all over
again, and heck, we don't even have to do our own material. 
They've never heard of anything here.  We can do Pink and Radiohead
and even Handel's 'Messiah' if we want to."

"Starting over from the beginning.  Oh, joy."  AJ's words were dry,
but he was looking a little more hopeful.

"Yeah, well, we can do it right this time."  He cast about for
something to keep the topic going, and keep AJ interested in it. 
"What do you want to call our group?"

"We're not calling it NJ.  I refuse to name anything after the
so-called Garden State."

"JN, then?"  AJ growled at him, and Justin laughed.  "Hey, no, I'm
not attached to the last-letter-of-our-first-names concept.  It was
pretty cool then because they spelled something when you put them
together, but then we lost Jason and had to rename Lance when we
got him, and it was just dumb.  Bet you guys weren't too happy
about the Backstreet *Boys* thing either after a couple of years."

"Wasn't our idea anyway," AJ grumbled.  "It was Lou's."

"Well, Lou isn't here.  We can do it our way.  Have some fun at it
even.  Betcha we can get back to being superstars inside of three
months with what we know about selling ourselves and what people
want."

"Because it's all about selling ourselves."

Justin shrugged.  "Yeah, well, duh.  Some people do it for an
hourly wage.  Some people do it like we do it.  I happen to like
our way better.  Unless you really want to get a job here shoveling
shit for room and board.  'Cause I think that's about all we're
qualified for here besides singing."

"Point taken."  AJ sighed.  "Y'know, I liked this place better when
it was a drug fantasy and I was lying under a tree.  It's starting
to look a lot like work."

"Think of it this way, you get to be here with me."

"And then there's the significant downsides."

Justin snorted.  "Shut up.  Besides, we might be home tomorrow. 
Who knows?  You gotta look on the bright side and keep making plans
and moving on.  Doesn't do anyone any good to sit down and give up
or start crying.  You just gotta hope things get better."

"Because they sure as hell can get worse?"

"Whatever.  You're a real fun guy, you know that?  Upbeat,
positive, motivated."

"And you're a megalomaniac with delusions of grandeur who thinks
that someone's going to come in any minute and say this was all
some sort of 'Candid Camera' type prank and, by the way, Mr.
Timberlake, so sorry for the inconvenience, the craft table is this
way if you want something to eat, and can I kiss your ass, Mr.
Timberlake, sir?"

Justin opened his mouth to reply, but there was a snicker from the
other end of the room.  AJ sat up and Justin turned his head to
look.

A dark-haired man in black leather was slouched in a chair with his
booted feet propped on the end of the bed.  Standing next to him
was a blonde-haired woman in a flimsy pink gown, and a short punked
out guy in patchwork leathers held together with safety pins.

The punk guy was the one who'd snickered.  "I like them, Unk. 
Maybe you should keep them around."

The dark-haired man shook his head.  "I don't think so.  I believe
the terms of our bet have already been satisfied, Dite?"

The blonde stuck out her lower lip.  "It wasn't a fair trial."

"It was.  Your candidates," the dark-haired man nodded at AJ and
Justin, "had several hours to try to seduce either Xena or Gabby
and, not only did they fail miserably," he snorted, "but then they
decided to do each other.  I'd say you lost."

"You *knew* Xena and Gabrielle were lovers."

He shrugged.  "I suspected it.  If Xena wouldn't have me, well...
I don't care how sexy you think your candidates are, they have no
chance."

"Who are--" Justin started, but AJ put out his hand.

"Don't even," he said in a low voice.  "Remember the gods and
goddesses thing?"  He inclined his head at the oddly assorted trio
at the foot of the bed.

"No shit?  Cool!"

The dark-haired man rolled his eyes.  "If they really are your
favorites, I suggest you send them home before I do something...
permanent to them.  They annoy me."

"Oh, all right."  The blonde stamped her foot, and there was a
swirl of flower petals, and then...

****

The concert wasn't *quite* a failure, but they'd had to take a
twenty-minute break when Justin had unexpectedly fallen during the
middle of a move he'd known how to do for years.  They'd taped his
leg up backstage and he'd gone back out -- it wasn't a bad sprain
or anything, so much as the total and complete shock of going from
sitting on the edge of a bed hearing himself discussed by three
supposed Greek gods to standing on stage in the middle of a roaring
crowd.  Complete disorientation and, really, he'd been lucky that
he'd only staggered and slipped, rather than, say, come in at a
point where he might have fallen into the crowd.

After the concert, he'd gone backstage and, once he was out of his
costume and make-up, sent everyone away.  A 'home' concert meant
time to do interviews and talking with people and publicity and
scores of other things, but he couldn't handle it right then.

He stuck his head out of the now-empty dressing room, and asked
Lonnie for his assistant.  Two minutes later, she was there.  She
found his phone inside of his gym bag which was in the dressing
room, and handed it to him, then left again.

The look she'd given him clearly suggested that he was treading the
line of popstar egotism in sending for someone to fetch an item
that was in the same room as him, but he'd honestly had no idea
where it was.  He'd forgotten that the gym bag was even there.  His
real life, this life, seemed altogether strange and unfamiliar.

He stared at the phone a second and realized he didn't know the
number he wanted to call.  Sighed, and dialed his assistant and
asked.  Five minutes later, she called him back with a number.

He looked at the flowers in his dressing room while he dialed it. 
Flowers didn't usually get sent through unless they were from
someone he knew.  The cards, yes.  Cards got stacked up like any
other fan mail, but the flowers got sent to local hospitals unless
it was a personal friend sending them.  These... he took out the
card.

'From a fan', the card said.  It was signed 'Strife'.

He crumpled the card up.  Some stalker.  Or maybe Chris, trying to
be funny.  Justin wasn't sure he had much of a sense of humor left
right now.

The ringing stopped.  Someone on the other end of the line picked
up.  "Yeah?"

"AJ?  This is Justin.  Timberlake.  I just had the weirdest thing
happen to me, and I know this sounds weird, but I was wondering if
maybe you knew anything about it..."