It did no good. Lance didn't even look back. Chris stood at the open door and held his face in his hands, massaging his temples.

"I'm such a dumb ASS," he then shouted, and tromped back upstairs.

Up in their bedroom, Chris fell onto the bed and tried to think of how this all started. He saw something scurry across the floor. Yes, it was that STUPID mouse that started it.

Lance had been getting dressed to go out to dinner, he had been looking forward to stuffing his face with a big plate of moo goo gai pan after a long day at rehearsals. Chris had just come out of the shower and was toweling himself off when he saw a mouse quietly walking up to Lance.

"Lance, don't look down," he said. "There's a mouse."

"A WHAT?" he shrieked. He hopped up and down like the floor was hot and then jumped up on the bed to get away from the furry creature.

"Okay, Lance, but it's just a mouse. Don't freak out," Chris said, trying to talk over Lance's screaming.

The mouse scurried past his feet and he reached out to grab it. Lance screamed again. "Don't touch it! You'll get the plague!"

Chris stopped and rolled his eyes at Lance. "Will you quit being such a baby?"

"No! I hate mice. Get it out of here!" Lance said as he frantically bounced on the bed.

"Well, if I can't touch it, I can't get it out of here," Chris said and put his hands on his hips.

The mouse ran out from a corner and went under the bed. "Nooooo!" Lance yelled. "It's going to get me!"

"Alright, Pooper Scooper, will you cut it out!" Chris said.

Lance stopped bouncing and looked at Chris. "Chris, I hate it when you call me that."

"Well, it fits you," Chris said. "You were 'Poofu' and your nickname is 'Scoop.' And if I have to keep dealing with all this crap..."

Lance turned an angry red. "That's not funny." The words came out harshly and Chris wondered if Lance had the taste of vitriol in his mouth after he spoke them.

"Oh look, the mouse," Chris said. He pointed at nothing, the mouse was still in hiding.

"You're just teasing me now," Lance said. His whole body was tense and he was practically spitting the word. "Well, I've had enough of you." He jumped off the bed, landing poorly, and grabbed his jacket as he walked out the door.

"Lance!" Chris yelled. "Don't be a spoil sport. You know I'm just messing with you like I always do."

From the hallway, Lance said "Yeah, like you always do. And I'm not putting up with it anymore."

And that was when he walked out the door.

Chris picked up the phone and dialed Lance's cell phone, hoping that he had taken it with him. It rang a few times, then Lance picked it up. Chris could hear that he was sobbing.

"Lance?" Chris asked.

"I don't really want to talk to you," Lance said, his voice weak.

"Will you please come back?"

"No, not tonight. I'm going over to Joey's. Maybe I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Lance, don't do this," Chris said, but Lance had already hung up.

Chris flopped back on the pillow and sighed loudly. He would have a long, sleepless night to think about how he'd been treating Lance, and why he was going to stop.

Lance wasn't worth losing.

End.

Originally written as an *Mprov on 11/6/00, with the words mouse, moo goo gai pan, pooper scooper, vitriol.