And he didn't know when the sadness had touched him. Perhaps it was that day that he went with Chris to Sephora to help him pick out a birthday present for Dani. Chris had dragged him along because he was the only one who wasn't either sick with bronchitis, stuck in the studio, or busy with one of their concubines.

Chris pulled at his arm as he walked toward the isles of perfume.

"You have a better sense of smell than I do, so I'm counting on you not to make my girlfriend smell like raid, or like fairy sweat."

"Fairy sweat?" Lance asked. He picked up a small vial and sniffed. Plums.

"Fairy sweat is what we used to call the perfume that my mother wore. It's really called 'douce fee', which I guess means 'sweet fairy'. We all thought it was icky -- even the cat hated it."

Lance bypassed a perfume labeled 'tomato'. He picked up another one labeled 'holy water' and sniffed. "How about this? It smells pretty good."

"Holy Water? Weird." Chris grabbed the vial out of Lance's hand. Sniffed. "Lance, hold out your arm."

"Why?" Lance pulled away from Chris, who held his wrist.

"I wanna see how this smells."

"On me?"

"Well I sure as hell ain't gonna spray it on myself." He pulled Lance closer.

Proximity to Chris was something he had had before, but his senses lately had just been so -keen-. He had woken up nights, hearing things in the distance like trains, church bells. Not to mention what it did to him lately when one of the guys brushed up against him just the right way.

Having Chris hold him by the wrist, and being this close to his face while Chris sprayed perfume on his arm was enough to make him wriggle out of his skin.

And when Chris dipped down to inhale the scent, his nose touched Lance's arm. Lance flinched, knocking the vial out of Chris' hand, and nearly smacking Chris in the face with his clenched fist.

They both watched as the vial clinked against others, sending the whole counter of perfume into domino effect. Chris scrunched his face, probably hoping none would break, and Lance looked for the quickest way out of the store.

"Let's go," Chris said, and grabbed Lance's wrist again. A few people were staring by now. Lance figured that once they got outside, he would find the nearest rock and crawl under it.

He had never been so nervous around Chris before. Not even when he first joined the band. Sure, he was intimidated by the wacko man, who instead of shaking his hand, had decided it was appropriate to give him a noggie when he was finally accepted into the band. The nervousness had been saved for JC, who he had immediately developed a crush on. Of course, those feelings were long gone, worn away after actually having to be around him all the time. In fact, he had developed a crush on each of them at one time or another, except on Chris.

"Chris, I'm sorry," was all Lance could say once Chris drove him back to his house, and they were sitting on the porch.

"Don't worry about it. Not your fault."

"But I --"

Chris held a hand up.

"Okay." In his mind, Lance was calling a general strike of all emotions -- he was going to need to take a big step back before letting himself feel something like love for Chris.

Eventually, Chris went home, leaving Lance by himself to watch the sun set and the clouds threaten rain. Left Lance to himself to think about how the kids in grade school had called him a 'dyke,' none of them knowing what the word really meant. When Lance did learn what it meant, he thought it might have made sense. He had been girly then, and some could argue that he was still. He thought about James, the kid in ninth grade with the same name and hairdo as his. How they would sneak back to the canal behind the school, smoke cigarettes, and make out.

He didn't know how he'd gotten here -- standing alone on days when the rain and sun are gone -- but after thinking about it for a while, he knew where he was now going.

End.

Originally written as an *Mprov on 1/5/00 with the words concubine, general strike, dyke, days when the rain and sun are gone, sephora, bronchitis.