“In just one night”

By AmyK

 

            "All nude male review!"  The caption on the flyer read as Joey and Lance walked out the front of their hotel.  Advertisements like that were not usually distributed in front of the Venetian, but somehow that one had found it's way to the valet booth.

            "Dude, come with me."  Joey laughed as he leaned against the pillar and handed the valet his ticket.  The sun had set hours ago and they were just heading out for the night.

            "Nah, it's cool."

            "Come on man, you've been to Vegas how many times?"  Joey asked.  "Like a hundred, right?"

            "Okay."  Lance shrugged.

            "So how many real Vegas showgirls have you seen?"  Joey raised his eyebrow at Lance and waited for an answer.  "None.  So see?  Come with me tonight and see 'em.  You can use your sweet Southern charm and sweep them off their feet."

            "What am I gonna do with a Vegas showgirl?"  Lance laughed.

            "Tell her about your best friend Joey."  Joey said, as if there could be any other answer.

            "Yeah."  Lance laughed and rolled his eyes.  "I'm going over to Caesars tonight.  JC always wins big on their craps tables." 

            "What?  Like you haven't lost enough money this week?  Come on, I'll buy the tickets just come with me."

            "No thanks."  Lance shook his head.  "Gimme a call tomorrow though, we'll catch a buffet or something."

            "You're no fun."  Joey made a face as he shook his head.  "Fine, whatever.  I'll call you for food tomorrow.  Have fun tossing your money out the window."  He laughed as the valet pulled up with his rented car.

            "I will."  Lance smirked.  "Have fun ogling the showgirls."

            "Man, you know I will."  Joey climbed in the driver's seat then rolled down the passenger side window;  "You want a ride?"

            "Nah, I'll walk."  Lance shook his head and waved Joey on.

            "Sweet, I'll see ya."  Joey tooted his horn and took off down the wide driveway out into the street.  Lance laughed as he watched him go, then shoved his hands in his pockets to head for Caesar's.  It wasn't that far of a walk and the air at night was almost as warm as it was during the day so he was comfortable in his t-shirt and jeans.

            Vegas was one of the few places where he could walk alone at night and not feel like everyone was staring at him.  No one knew he and Joey were in town, as far as fans went.  They'd come for a golf tournament that wouldn't be aired on TV until that weekend, and the number of fans that turned up for that event was small.  They'd managed to stay at their hotel for three days without a riot, which surprised both Joey and Lance.

            Once, when they ventured over to New York, New York, a small group of girls saw them and they had a fan moment, but they'd explained that they were only there for the day and left it at that.  Since then they'd hardly received more than a strange look as they lay low in Vegas.  They wore baseball hats out of habit, and glasses when appropriate… and pretty much slept most of the day.

            Lance removed his hat and ran his fingers through his hair as he crossed the street with a group of older women who were apparently celebrating one of their 50th birthdays.  The ladies laughed and practically ran across the street like a bunch of wild teenagers talking about the "Thunder from down under".  He laughed and shook his head; he was sure that he didn't want to know what they were talking about.

            He made it over to Caesars and took his time walking through the hotel to the casino.  His first stop was the money cage against the wall.  Lance cashed in a handful of bills and carried the chips around to the different craps tables trying to get a feel for the game.  JC had tried for days to educate him on the art of craps playing, and in the end Lance was beating him.  Craps was a game he could enjoy because it didn't take that much concentration, and it looked harder than it was.  In reality, he would just set his bet down and let some other dude toss the dice; it was all a matter of luck.

            Lance stopped by the bar before he settled on a table and got himself a Tom Collins.  The gin mixed with the sweetness of the sugar and the tangy lemon juice always brought a smile to his face.  He downed two drinks at the bar, then carried the third over to the craps table in the center of the room.  Two games were played before he set his bet down and joined the other players around the table, carefully watching the dice fly from one mans hand to the other end of the table, praying for a seven.

            A cheer went up around the table as the dice landed on five and two.  Lance grinned and looked down as his stack of chips grew.  "Can I get you a drink?"  A waitress asked as she sidled up to the Lance's side.

            "You buyin?"  Lance grinned over his shoulder and his attention was immediately drawn to her cleavage.  "Just kidding."  He laughed lightly and reached for his half empty glass.  "Another one of these.  Tom Collins."  Lance rattled the ice, sloshing a little over the lip of the glass.

            "Tom Collins."  She nodded.  "Great, I'll be right back."

            "Awesome."  Lance nodded and watched her walk away; her sparkly stockings caught the lights from above as she swayed her hips to a silent beat.

            "All bets on the table."  The dealer spoke loudly to get his attention.

            "Right."  Lance dropped his hundred-dollar chip on the felt table and slid it into place.  He leaned against the corner for balance as the roller at the far end shot the dice in his direction.  The drinks he'd had that night were adding up and he knew he'd have to call it quits pretty soon if he ever wanted to make it back to his hotel.

            He was up another three hundred dollars by the time the waitress came back with his drink;  "Here you go sir, Tom Collins."  She set the drink on the side table and took his empty glass.

            "Thanks…."  Lance looked at her nametag and took a second to read it carefully,  "Thanks Monica from Danbury Connecticut."  He dropped a fifty-dollar chip on her tray and smiled.  "Can you bring me another one and keep the change?"

            "Of course."  She nodded and slid the chip into her small cash box before taking orders for several of the other gamblers at the table.

            Three drinks and another four hundred dollars up, Lance decided to call it a night.  He waited at the table for the waitress to bring his last drink around, but then he would be heading back to the Venetian in a cab.  The alcohol had hit him hard and he wasn't sure he'd be able to trust his feet to get him back.

            "Did you have the Tom Collins?"  She asked as she walked up.

            "Anyone else here been drinkin 'em all night?"  Lance put on his best sexy smile as he turned around.  Instead of the smiling brown eyes he'd been staring at most of the night, he was met with a shorter blue eyed woman with bright red hair.

            "Excuse me?"  She asked.

            "Oops, sorry.  Hey, where'd the other girl go?  Monica?"

            "She's off at midnight."

            "Fuck, it's midnight?"  Lance stood up and looked at his watch.  The digital screen rippled as he reached to steady himself with the table.  "I've gotta go."

            "But… your drink?"  The new waitress glanced down at her tray.

            "Oh here."  He plunked a twenty-dollar chip down and shook his head as she reached for change.  "Keep it."  He took his tray of chips up to the cage and cashed them out.  The $2,300 in cash felt heavy in his pocket as he left the casino; he'd made a killing at the craps table.  He was now up almost two grand and he still had another couple days in the city to kill.  Joey would be jazzed; he never won anything so with Lance coming out ahead Joey could feel like he was a big winner too.

            Just as Lance reached for the heavy doors leading out to the hot desert air, a small hand grabbed the handle and pulled the door open,  "Let me get that for you."  A familiar voice said softly.

            "Thanks."  Lance looked up to see Monica smiling up at him in normal street clothes.  "Hey, you ditched me tonight."  He gave her a smile that he hoped came across as flirtatious.

            "I got off work."  She shrugged and smiled back.  After working in Vegas for more than a year, she was used to drunk guys hitting on her.

            "So you're free to go huh?"  Lance stepped outside and waited for her to join him.  "Would you like to go get a drink or something?"  He nodded back into the hotel.

            "No, I… well they don't like us to hang around the bar after our shift."  She shook her head.  "But thanks."

            "How about if we go on over to the Mirage?"

            "You think you need more to drink?"  She raised her eyebrow at him, the two shots she'd pilfered from the bar hit her suddenly and her lips began to hum.

            "At this point, I doubt it could hurt."  Lance shook his head.  "I'd just like to take a beautiful lady out for a drink."  He gave her a little half smile as his green eyes glistened.

            She checked her watch and sighed, she wouldn't be asleep before six anyway, she may as well get a few free drinks out of this guy.  "Sure, okay."  Most of the bartenders at the Mirage knew her, so she felt pretty safe going over there with a guy she didn't know.  Then again, she liked to live on the edge half the time so she wasn't too concerned to begin with.

            "Great."  Lance smiled and reached for her hand.  He held it mostly out of habit, but partially to keep himself walking straight.  They managed to walk up the block a short way to the Mirage hotel without Lance stepping into the gutter or knocking her off her feet.

            "Have you been here long?"  She asked as they stepped into the hotel.

            "The Mirage?"

            "Vegas."  She smiled and tried not to laugh.

            "Oh, yeah.  Me and my friend Joey have been here three days.  He wants to stay another three or four days but I think I've seen enough."

            "You lost it all huh?"

            "Nah, I'm actually up some.  I don't know how much, but I've got more in my wallet right now than I started with.  But I don't come here to gamble."  Lance shrugged.  "Neither does Joey."

            "Then what do you come here for?"  She laughed and led the way to her favorite bar near the back of the hotel.

            "Usually?  To perform.  But this time we came out for a golf tournament thing."

            "You play golf?"

            "I did on Tuesday."  Lance laughed.  "I'm not very good at it, but it was for… it raised money for a good cause."

            "The Cadillac Classic?"

            "Uh huh."

            "Wow…"

            Lance shrugged again then said,  "Well we only got to play the first round, then the serious golfers went from there.  So me and Joey have just been… you know, goofing off.  He's hunting down real Vegas showgirls tonight.  Or something."

            "You don't have to look far for that."  She smiled as they walked up to the bar.  Lance instinctively positioned himself by the wall mostly in the dark.  He hadn't been recognized at all that night and he didn't want to be while he was half off his rocker drunk.

            "Hey Monica, how's it going?"  The bartender asked as he threw two coasters on the bar in front of them.

            "Pretty good, how about you?"

            "Can't complain."  He smiled and leaned on the bar.  "What'll it be?"

            "Tequila sunrise."  Monica said as she crossed her legs.

            "You?"  He looked at Lance.

            "Uh, Jack and Coke."

            "That'll be $12.50."  He said as he reached under the bar for two glasses, then mixed the drinks in front of them.

            Lance fumbled in his wallet and dropped a twenty on the bar,  "There ya go, thanks."

            "Change?"  The bartender asked.

            "Nah, keep it."  Lance shook his head and took a sip of his drink.  "This is good."  He nodded.

            "Thanks man."  The bartender saluted Lance then headed down the bar to help other patrons.

            Monica almost said something about how much he had already had that night, but it wasn't her business, and frankly, he didn't show it really.  "So how'd you do at the tables tonight?"  She asked instead.

            "Eh, I did alright I think."  Lance nodded.  He hadn't counted the money in his wallet, but it was thicker than it was when he left so that had to be good.  "So what's in that girly drink of yours?  Besides the little pink umbrella I mean."  He laughed and spun the umbrella that was sticking out of her drink.

            "Tequila, orange juice and grenadine.  And an umbrella of course."

            "A pink one."

            "Naturally."  She nodded and laughed as she took a sip, feeling the booze seep into her system.  "Yum.  My favorite."

            "Can I have a taste?"  Lance asked as he leaned closer to her.

            "Sure."  She smiled and slid her glass over, but instead he slowly licked her bottom lip, tasting the last little bit of the drink.

            "Yum, you're right, that is pretty good."  He smiled then sat up straight on the barstool, trying to retain his balance.

            "Yeah it is."  She swiped her tongue over her lips, then took another sip of her drink.  No amount of alcohol could erase the feeling of his almost kiss, and she knew she'd need another couple drinks to make this night worth while.

            When they were done Lance ordered another round for Monica then sat back with his glass of ice and watched her eyes crinkle and shine as she spoke, not hearing a word of it.  They sat at the bar for a little while longer before she pulled his arm over to her and looked at his watch.  "We should get going.  It's almost two."

            "Okay."  Lance slid off the barstool then used it to balance himself.  "One more for the road?"  Lance asked.  If he slurred at all, he couldn't hear it.

            "Sure, I think I can do a shot."  Monica laughed and leaned on the bar.

            "What'll it be?"  The bartender asked with a dangerously flirtatious smile.

            "Watermelon shot please."  Monica smiled sweetly, then licked her lips in his direction.  Lance felt the heat from that simple move rush from his feet to his groin.  If she wasn't careful, he'd stop being able to control himself.

            The bartender placed the shot on the bar in front of her and nodded,  "It's on the house.  You guys have been generous tonight."  He winked, then slid the glass into her hand.

            "Thank you kindly, sir."  Monica poured on a thick southern accent to mock Lance's more prominent one, then slammed the shot back.  "Ahhh, Jolly Ranchers."  She licked the small dribble of liquor from her lips and leaned against Lance.  "Lance, you big stud… take me to bed or lose me forever."

            "Show me the way home, baby."  Lance laughed as they headed for the hotel exit.  They found the main doors and Lance leaned against it to open the door on the far right.  "How often do people tell you you're beautiful?"  He asked as she scooted by him to get out the door.

            "Excuse me?"

            "I bet people tell you that all the time."  He smiled and tried to keep his eyes open as he put his hand on her hip and pulled her closer to him.  "I bet you hear that all day long.  You're beautiful, you're beautiful, you're beautiful…"

            "You're drunk."  Monica laughed and tried to keep her heart from beating out of her chest as he turned out the door, keeping her pressed against him.

            "So what?  So are you."

            "No I'm not."  She tried to sound defiant, but the little giggle at the end of her sentence gave her away.

            "Say the alphabet."  Lance challenged.

            "A, B, C, D, E, F - "

            "Without singing."  He laughed and put his finger over her lips.

            "I can't."  She giggled around his finger.

            "See?  You're drunk."  He nodded, then kissed her hotly on the mouth.  Being drunk didn't change his approach any.  He was tentative at first, waiting for her to slap him silly and when she didn't he worked his tongue between her lips and tried not to be sloppy about it.  "Let's get out of here."  He whispered into her mouth before his tongue slid across her lower lip.

            "Where… to?"  She asked between kisses.

            "Anywhere.  That way."  He nodded toward the street that would eventually lead them to his hotel.  "Come on.  Before I molest you in the parking lot."  He laughed softly as he leaned his forehead against hers.

            "And what would you call this?"  She asked before he lowered his lips to hers again and kissed her.

            "Teasing."  Lance smiled, then took a step away as he took her hand.  "Come on."  He pulled her toward the sidewalk and she almost reluctantly followed.

            "Teasing huh?  I didn't know guys teased, I thought that was a girl trick."

            "Not hardly."  Lance raised his eyebrow as he looked back at her.  "Catch up."  He gave her arm a quick tug and she stumbled into him.  Lance's arm tightened around her waist and together they held each other up as they headed for the corner.

            The crossed safely and made it to the corner without incident.  The next corner they stopped at was directly across from the Venetian.  One more street and Lance would be home.  He leaned against the street light as they waited for it to change while cars flew by.  Even at two in the morning, people had places to go.  "Do you have your room key?"  Monica asked softly.

            "Uh huh."  Lance felt in his back pocket to be sure.  "Yeah."

            "Good."  Monica nodded and hit the button repeatedly, as if it might make the lights change sooner.

            "Wanna come up?"  Lance asked as he leaned over and took her ear lobe between his teeth while he held onto the streetlight.  He slid his other hand up the back of her shirt and pressed his hand against her bare back as he pulled her closer to kiss her neck properly.  His hand moved swiftly from her back to her stomach then up to her breast hidden from his touch by a thin layer of satin.  His hips pressed against hers as he turned slightly to back her up to the streetlight, not caring that they were making a scene on a Vegas street corner with cars honking on either side of them.

            "I don't - "  She started to decline but he cut her off with a deep and searching kiss, his tongue savoring every inch of her sweet mouth flavored with watermelon liquor.  The smooth satin of her bra didn't block out the heat of his hand or the movement of his fingers as he moved against her.  She placed her hand flat on his chest and pushed him back reluctantly; he was turning her on and right there was not the time or place for it.  "Wait."  She said as he brought his lips to hers again, tickling her stomach with his velvety fingertips.

            "What?"  He mumbled against her neck as she closed her eyes.

            "We're on the street."  She laughed softly and tried not to melt completely into him.  Holding her liquor was one thing she was good at, which was the only way she was able to keep a somewhat clear head while he swirled his tongue up the side of her neck.

            "So let's go inside."  He stood up straight but continued to hold her close as their light went from 'walk' to 'don't walk'.  "Oh man, see now we missed the light."  His lips curled into a sweet southern boys half smile as he went to kiss her again, but instead nibbled on her bottom lip.

            "Lance…"

            "Come on up to my room, you can show me all your tricks."

            "I don't have tricks."  She smiled and tried to keep him at a safe distance as more cars honked.

            "Then let me show you mine."  He laughed deep in his throat as he laced his fingers through hers.  The streetlight was still his main source of balance and he wasn't about to move away from it.

            "I don't just go up to strangers rooms."  Monica was playing coy as she lowered her head and smiled.

            "Lance Bass, nice to meet you."  He raised her hand to his lips and smiled up at her.  "Now we're not strangers no more."  Lance did his best Forrest Gump impression and didn't even care if he sounded stupid.  "So now that you know me, why don't you come up and let me show you the most amazing sex you could even dream of."

            "You're pretty sure of yourself."

            "I've got the goods to back it up."

            "Oh yeah?"  She should have known better than to as such a loaded question.  He pulled her back against his chest, then grabbed her hand and lowered it between his legs where there was no mistaking the presence between them.  Monica's eyes widened for a second, she never would have guessed.  She took a split second to compose herself,  "Yeah but can you use it?"

            "There's only one way to find out."  He raised his eyebrow at her as he left her hand where it was, driving him more and more crazy with each passing second.

            "I'm saving myself."  She shook her head and smiled, this tactic usually worked.

            "For me?"  He grinned flirtatiously.

            "For marriage."  She smirked slowly.

            "Okay."  He shrugged and kissed her again.

            Monica's brow creased as she gently pushed him away, noticing that their light had changed again.  She took his hand and practically pulled him across the street then asked,  "Okay?"

            "If that's what you want to do, sure."  He licked his lips and gave her a long blink then turned to look up the side street.  "There's one down there."  He tugged at her hand and at first she didn't resist.

            "Wait."  She said again as her feet stopped.

            "What?"

            "You're taking me to the chapel?"

            "We're going to the chapel and we're gonna get maaaarried."  Lance sang as he spun her around.  "And then I'm going to take you back up to my room and make love to you till you can't even stand."

            "Can I get that in writing?"

            "I'll put it in the contract."  Lance laughed as they stumbled down the street to the brightly lit blue chapel just past the hotel parking lot.

            In a moment of lucidity Monica paused, thinking twice about what they were about to do.  As soon as the thought entered her mind, the alcohol haze crept back in and she laughed alongside Lance as they trotted up the street to the neon blue chapel.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

            Lance's first sound of the morning was "Guh."  He mumbled it quietly as he pulled his pillow over his head to cushion its blow with the real world.  His body ached, his head throbbed and his shoulders stung.  The description "hit by a truck" felt more accurate than ever as Lance tried to roll onto his side.  He was hindered by the bed sheets wrapped tightly around his legs and waist, but he couldn't raise his arms to try to untangle himself.  "Guh."  He repeated as his voice echoed through his hollow head.

            He braved the light and pried his eyes open, squinting as he moved only his eyes around the room.  He was sprawled diagonally across the bed with his head at the foot and his feet barely touching the padded headboard.  "Thank God I'm in my own room."  He thought to himself as he sighed and closed his eyes again.  His mushy brain worked double time to try to figure out how he had come to feel so much like shit.  He remembered Joey leaving to see a real Vegas Showgirls act at Bally's, then going down to Caesars to play craps for a few hours, losing and winning big with every other roll of the dice.  Then he remembered drinking a drink with every roll, many… many times.

            "Uhhh."  He groaned to himself as he dropped his arm over his eyes.  He'd been drinking the night before and from the state of his body that morning, he knew he'd overdone it by more than just a few drinks.  Without warning the shrill ring of the phone by his feet cut through his hangover haze and rattled his skull.  "Jesus."  Lance mumbled as he cringed, thinking of how he could make it stop without moving.  The phone rang for the second time and a wave of nausea washed over Lance as stars danced in front of his eyes.  He knew that if he moved suddenly he'd throw up, but if he didn't move at all the phone would ring again.

            He scooted himself within arms reach of the phone then lifted it and dropped it on the bed beside his ear,  "Yeah."  He managed to say as the metallic taste in his mouth intensified.

            "Lance!  My man, are you sleeping?"  Joey laughed into the phone as the traffic sounds behind him cut in and out.

            "Uh huh."

            "Dude, it's like… noon.  Wake up already."

            "Joe."

            "Okay okay, anyway listen.  I'm out at Hoover Dam right now and I won't be back till later, but do you wanna catch a buffet tonight?  Say, sevenish?"

            "Sure."  Lance swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat.

            "Cool, I'll see you later then, okay?"

            "Yeah."

            "You'll be up?"

            "Yeah."

            "Hey guess who I'm with?"  Joey laughed as a female voice in the back said something Lance couldn't make out.

            Lance wasn't in the mood to play games, so he just grunted again.  "Huh?"

            "I'm here at the Hoover Dam with Marissa, Jillian and Carla.  They're real Vegas Showgirls!"  Lance could almost hear Joey do his little dance.

            "Cool."

            "I'll tell you all about it tonight."

            "Okay."  Lance rolled onto his back and waited for his head to stop spinning.  "Bye Joe."  Lance dropped the phone back on the cradle and sighed deeply.  If it was really noon, Lance had lost almost twelve hours of his life.  He could remember up until about eleven, which is when he moved from one crap table to the one that was closer to the bathroom.  After that, nothing.  "Dammit."  He reached down again to try to untangle his legs.  With his blood actually circulating now, he was able to free his legs and kick the sheets to the side.  The sudden lack of cover reminded him that he was completely naked on top of the sheets.  "Not a good sign."  He thought to himself as he looked around again for any sign of a girl having been there.  The only thing that implied a 'good time' was his lack of clothes and a single condom wrapper on the floor.

            A feeling of dread swept over him as he managed to pull himself upright.  His morning had gotten off to a rocky and rough start, and it didn't look like it was going to get much better.  "Fuck."  He grumbled as he staggered to the bathroom against the far wall.  The cold tile floor of the bathroom hit his bare feet suddenly and he was rendered a little more awake.  Lance avoided looking in the mirror as he pulled the shower door open and reached for the handle.

            Lance started the shower as his stomach tumbled again; there was no stopping it this time as he dove for the toilet bowl.  He held on for dear life as he threw up repeatedly, coming within inches of banging his forehead on the ceramic ring.  The vomit itself smelled of alcohol, which made his stomach lurch again.  He flushed quickly and pulled his weak and ragged body up off the floor.  It was then that he noticed the collage of condoms and wrappers strewn around the bathroom floor in the general vicinity of the trash can.  "Fuck."  He groaned, the morning just kept getting better and better.  "At least I was responsible.  A lot."  He thought to himself as he weakly kicked the stray wrappers closer to the trash and slid into the steaming shower.

            He thanked God for the narrow seat in the shower as the water pelted him on the top of his head.  He looked up for a second to let the water hit his face, then opened his mouth to rinse the foul taste from his tongue.

            As he ran the soap over his body the stinging in his shoulders became worse,  "What the…?"  He looked down and wiped the soap away to reveal three separate scratches on his left shoulder.  "What in the hell?"  He looked at his right shoulder and saw a matching set but an inch or so lower.  The slight indentation at the top led him to believe they were fingernail scratches, and he blushed furiously as if anyone could see him.  He had to find this woman.

            After soaping up as slowly as he could, he stood to rinse his body using the wall for support and his free hand to wet his hair.  As his hand went past his face he saw a flash of metal that caused his breath to stop in his throat.  He lowered his hand to eye level as suds ran down his arm and fell to the shower floor.

            There on his left hand was a wide gold band with a narrow line of diamonds running diagonally across the front.  "Ho… holy shit."  He sat down before his legs stopped supporting him and stared at his hand.  For a second he wanted to take it off and pitch it down the drain, if it wasn't on his hand then it never happened.  But logically he knew that wasn't possible.  Ring or not, it looked like he'd just broke his number one rule for coming to Vegas.  He'd gotten married.

            His stomach heaved again, but thankfully nothing came up.  Lance doubted there was anything left, and he thanked God for small miracles.  After a moment he tore his eyes away from his hand and turned the running water off.  Soap bubbles slid down his body, pausing at his knees and waist.  Lance grabbed a towel and dried off as well as he could, smearing the remaining suds until they disappeared into his skin then he stood in the bathroom naked.  He ran his hands through his wet hair, rumpling it to help it dry without shaking his head.  If he shook his head, he was sure it would fall off and roll under the counter… never to be seen again.

            When he made it back to the bedroom he leaned against the dresser and pulled out clean boxer briefs, a pair of jeans that he knew were a size too big and one of Joey's old t-shirts that had managed to find its way into his room.  Lance carefully balanced himself against the corner of the dresser and pulled his underwear on, then his jeans.  He buttoned the waist before he sat down on the bed and closed his eyes so that the world around him could stop moving.

            Lance pulled his clean shirt over his head and rested his elbows on his knees.  Water from his hair dripped onto the floor between his bare feet, but he didn't care.  "If this is for real, then where's the girl?  Who?  I don't know anyone in Vegas."  Lance grumbled to himself.  He forced himself to stand up again, then fished four Advil out of his bag and swallowed them dry.  The pounding in his head needed to stop before he would be able to think about anything.  He lay down flat on his stomach with his arms hanging over the side of the bed, praying to fall back to sleep and not wake up until his head was ready to return to his body and behave.

            As his eyes began to close, he caught sight of something sparkling halfway under the bed.  He painfully reached under the bed and pulled out a pair of stockings that were gold with little sparkles in them.  Lance frowned at them as he held them in his hand, then he gasped.  Caesars.  She was from Caesars.  The outfit the waitresses wore at Caesars had shimmery gold stockings and he'd spent the better part of his night there.

            Two small pieces of the puzzle slid together.  He'd apparently, possibly, married a waitress from Caesars Palace.  Lance sighed and heard his heart beat in his ears as he laid his head back down.  No matter what had happened, he couldn't deal with it without getting at least another couple hours of sleep.  It didn't take long for him to fall asleep and when he did he didn't stir again for almost three hours.

            When he opened his eyes that afternoon he still felt groggy, but that was ten times better than how he felt that morning.  Lance sat up in the bed and rubbed his eyes as he yawned and cracked his back.  It took a minute for his mind to catch up with his body as he stood up and used the table for balance.  He took one step toward the bathroom then stopped in his tracks.  "Wait."  He said out loud, though no one was in the room.  He sat back on the bed and looked around as though he had never seen the room before.  The morning came back to him one piece at a time and he blushed furiously.  He was married to a girl who had taken off before he woke up.  He had no idea who she was, or where she was.  All he knew was that she was apparently an animal in bed… and insatiable.

            The rational side of his mind woke up then and flooded his mind with logical questions.  What if she didn't come back?  Would the marriage still be valid?  Was he even really married?  Where was the marriage license or certificate?  What if she had a room key and came back when he wasn't there?  What if she never came back and he never found out if he was really married?  How would he ever know?

            "Dammit."  Lance ran his hands through his hair and checked the clock on the wall.  It was after three in the afternoon and he was starving.  His stomach was still sour from the hangover that seemed to linger, but he knew he'd have to eat soon.  He vaguely remembered Joey calling and mentioning a buffet that night but that wouldn't be for another couple hours, and that wasn't going to do.

            Lance pulled himself off the bed and reached for the room key that was on the table beside his wallet and platinum watch.  He stopped for a second and frowned as he looked at them in the palm of his hand.  If she had bad intentions, wouldn't she have taken the wallet or the watch?  He quickly opened the wallet and found more than eleven hundred dollars tucked inside.  When he left the day before he only had six hundred, so he knew he must have won big the night before in order to feel as shitty as he did and still have more cash than what he left with.

            "I don’t get it…"  Lance said to himself as he sighed and headed for the door.  He knew nothing would make sense until he ate… at least he hoped it would.

 

Next...

 

Copyright 2002, Amy Lynn