AN:  Liberties have been taken with various details and I'm not gonna give them back... LOL I 
don't know if Brian really takes off his ring during concerts but it added nicely to the story 
so voila, author's initiative! =) I love people who send me feedback, *hint* *hint*!

inspiredthoughts@hotmail.com


***************************** Cheers: Chapter Three *************************


He came in the next night.  He wasn't entirely sure why but it was like he was drawn to the 
small, dark, mellow hotel bar and the dynamic bartender who manned it with such expertise.  
Brian took what was fast becoming 'his' stool, and waited while Maury served another customer.  

He watched her out of the corner of his cornflower blue eyes for a moment before deciding to 
openly stare as she finished and made her way over to him.  "What'll it be Champ?" she asked 
with distanced familiarity and that wide smile he was coming to expect.  

"You're dressed up."  

Maury blinked and looked down at herself, blushing faintly and self consciously fiddling with 
the hem line of her tasteful, black, knee high skirt.  With the white, button down long sleeved 
top it was more upscale than her usual slacks, jeans, and well cut shirts.  She also had make 
up on, and her hair in a simple but elegant french braid.  

"Yeah, well, some of us who aren't world famous pop stars have two jobs.  I work for a caterer 
as well and we had a very nice banquet right before my shift started.  I didn't have time to 
change, much," she added with a grin while pointed down.  

Brian leaned over the bar and looked down to see very scuffed sneakers.  "I'll go barefoot 
before I work the bar in heels..."  He laughed.  

"You sound like Leighanne!"  

"Who's that?"

He coughed and blinked.  It didn't matter that they had talked before; it still amazed him 
that, as easy as Maureen could probably humm along to half of their songs, she honestly had 
little to no idea about WHO the Backstreet Boys were.  "Umm, my wife."  

Speculative eyes drifted down to his bare hands as they clenched into fists on the counter top, 
half angry in their nakedness.  "I don't wear my ring at shows.  I'm always afraid its going to 
fall off or that I'll accidentally hurt one of the guys or dancers onstage.  I gave Nick a black
eye with my elbow one time and that didn't even have diamonds."  Brian smiled weakly at her and 
wondered why he was suddenly feeling defensive.  

But instead of reproachful words or prying questions Maury simply smiled.  "That's nice, you 
must love her very much."  

He let out a deep breath he didn't even know he had been holding at her words and smiled that 
genuine smile that came so easy when he was here, away from his life, away from it all.  "I 
do," he replied simply.  "She's my world."  

Maury didn't say anything, just slid the now standard house special his way.  Brian's hands 
shook as he reached for the glass and Maureen slipped away to serve other customers.


Four drinks later she stopped her bustling in front of him as he stared somewhat sullenly into 
the empty glass.  The drinks had been much stronger than usual and Brian was pleasantly drunk, 
though he wasn't in a good mood.  

He blinked when she gently pried his fingers from the glass, somewhat bewildered sapphire eyes 
meeting understanding hazel.  "Does your wife know what you do what you come to New York?" she 
asked softly.  

Brian looked hard at the beautiful, petite bartender before him, and tried to think of an 
appropriate answer.  "What do I do?" he demanded somewhat belligerently.  

Maury sighed and tapped him on his head lightly with her index finger.  "Does your wife know 
that you sit in a bar alone and get drunk?"  

"I don't want to talk about it."  

She snorted in honest amusement as she put the empty glass down and began to clean the counter 
with those smooth rythmic swipes of cloth that he found so fascinating and hypnotic.  "If you 
didn't want to talk about it you wouldn't be here.  You'd be in a club or with your friends or 
in your hotel room where you didn't have to deal with possible fans or, annoying bartenders."  

Brian glared at the woman who smiled toothily and continued to polish.  

"You're annoying."

"I know dear."  

Silence fell between them as he stared at his calloused hands, twined together, and fought back 
sudden and unexpected tears.  "Its just..." Brian swallowed and tried again, "Its just that I 
love her SO much.  She's my Leigh, I'd do anything for her, anything, but no one ever 
understands, you know?

"The fans use to hate her and its better now but she still gets hate mail all the time.  The 
guys aren't fond of her either.  Their personalities just don't mesh well and they can be so 
damn protective, even when they don't need to be.  They think she's not good enough for me, 
though none of them have the balls to say it to my face except AJ and only when he's piss poor 
drunk.  And I have thousands of people telling me I can do better and it drives me crazy 
because they're so damn blind.

"I love her more than I love myself.  And if that's not good enough what does that say about 
my love?  What kind of husband am I that my closest friends can't see when I'm head over heels, 
forever and my soul, in love?  

"And she is good damnit.  She's so much better than I am.  Everything I am, she deserves to 
be.  I just got lucky and she never did ya know?  Just lucky.  Lucky cause I'm rich and famous 
and found the woman of my dreams..."

Brian burst into tears.  

Maury sighed again but didn't seem terribly surprised.  She dropped the rag in a heartbeat and 
walked around the counter to his side so she could wrap the agitated pop star in friendly arms.  
It hadn't been the first time she had been cried on, though they usually weren't internationally 
known celebrities.  

When Brian quieted she broke the hug and patted him firmly on the shoulder.  He was a mess, 
glassy eyes, red rimmed from crying, an equally red nose, and trembling hands.  "Brian, 
sweetie, listen to me, okay...  You're going to stop drinking for tonight and we're going to 
get you a cab of some kind and you're going to go straight to your hotel room and sleep.  And 
when you wake up feeling like hell you're going to take an aspirin, drink some water, and call
your wife and tell her exactly how much you love her, okay?"  

He sniffled once, mightily, and batted away the helpful hand reaching for his cell phone.  
"S'okay," he said gruffly, "I have security with me cause this isn't our hotel this time 
either."  

She glanced around for the previously unnoticed security and jumped when Brian waved and a 
large man appeared in the door of the bar, filling the frame.  He must have been waiting 
outside.  Maury was suddenly unsure as the giant lumbered over across the breadth of the bar 
and stopped so that he loomed over them with an impassive face.  

"Umm, Brian, time to go with this nice security man..."  She tried to lift him off of the stool 
but he was heavier than he looked and clung suddenly to her waist, suddenly panicked in his 
drunkenness.  

"Wait, Maury, what am I supposed to do about Leigh?"  

She looked fondly down at him and ruffled his hair on impulse before managing to unpry him and 
give him to the waiting arms of his security.  "Nothing Champ...  Just keep believing in your 
love and everything will work out.  You needed to cry and let some of those frustrations out.  
There's nothing I need to tell you or that you need to hear.  It was my turn to listen this 
time, aright?"  

Brian nodded, subdued, and managed to stand somewhat steadily with the subtle help of his 
bodyguard.  "Thanks Maury, you're the best."  

She smiled.  "That's what I like to hear.  Now go sleep it off."  

"Yes ma'am."  

Maureen Stills shook her head and went to take her next order as Brian Littrell walked slowly 
out of her bar as his security stood like a solid shadow by his side.