AN: Yup...  Chapter Four.  Lots happens.  Read on.  

Standard disclaimers apply.



*************************** Fairy Tale: Chapter Four ******************************


I called Lance when I got home that night and just sobbed.  I cried my heart out for hours and 
let me tell you, if he ever looses that wonderful voice of his, he'd make a damn good 
psychiatrist.  I mean he didn't really know me that well and I'm sure I scared the hell out 
of him by breaking down but he just walked me through my hysterics, calm as a Russian cucumber.  

Russian cucumber.  Bad joke, sorry.  

I felt better after we had talked but still not great.

And I felt a WHOLE lot better when I opened my door to find a disheveled Justin on my 
doorstep, looking like a drowned rat.  Yes that would be sarcasm, about the better part.  He
did look like a rat, acted like one too.

Bastard.

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"What the hell do you want?" Rhianna demanded, cranky, pissed off, aggravated by the sight 
of the Prince of Pop.  She wasn't in the mood.

His blue eyes narrowed with annoyance.  Like she cared.  

"Can I come in?"  

She studied him for a long moment, weighing her options, deciding, before stepping grudgingly 
aside.  "Take your shoes off.  Jesus, what did you do, stand in the rain?  Take a bath with 
clothes on?"  

He snorted and moved into her home, kicking his shoes off.  Justin shivered as the air 
conditioning hit his wet skin.  "I couldn't remember what apartment you were in.  I 
remembered that you had a flower box with blue flowers but I couldn't find them in the rain," 
he replied sullenly.  Like a child.  Rhianna sighed.  She was too damn old to be dealing with
pop stars and all their masculine diva airs and that was saying something since she wasn't 
even twenty five yet.  

"Why didn't you just call Joey?  He's been to my place a hundred times."  He stared at her, 
blue eyes granite, and she winced.  "Oh yeah.  How stupid of me to assume that you two would 
be adult enough to work it out."  

"At least I just ignore my problems instead of running away from them!"  

Rhianna flinched and wrapped her arms around herself, hating that she felt tears welling in 
her sapphire eyes.  She was stronger than this.  She was better than this.  Better than *NSYNC 
and all their crap.  But deep down she knew she would never be good enough.  

Never be as beautiful and talented and collected as the five young men who were the butt end 
of a thousand boy band jokes.  And that scared the shit out of her.  Because no matter how 
happy Rhianna was with herself, no matter how confident, she was only human.  She had her 
doubts, her fears, and it felt like her every weakness, her every secret nightmare had been 
laid bare to the world over the last several weeks.  

She hated looking in the mirror and not being satisfied with the image staring back at her.  

*****************************************************************************************

And Justin grows a conscience.  

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He watched, face stony, as Rhianna turned away from him.  He waited for the anger, for 
screaming, for her to bound up and try to claw his eyes out.  He waited for a snappy comeback, 
for the sting of another well placed insult...  He waited for his ego to be bruised and his 
pride knocked down.  

He waited in vain and watched in shock as strong, invulnerable Rhianna Gray began to cry.  
At first it was just the slight trembling of her shoulders but soon, as she stood and rocked 
herself, he could hear her low sobs, desperate god awful things that tore his heart in two.

Justin took a hesitant step forward, hand outstretched, and jumped as Rhianna twisted out of 
his near embrace.  "Just leave me alone Justin.  I can't...  I can't deal with you right now.  
I can't do this anymore..."  

He set his jaw at her words, and hated himself for the vulnerability he saw in her face, 
the raw agony, the pain.  He had done that to her.  He knew that, knew and hated himself for 
it.  For helping to destroy what he admired most about her.  Because it was as if Rhianna had 
lost her center, her sense of self, and Justin knew that every one of his harsh words, every 
flippant remark, had helped to undermine her strength.  

He knew that, on some level, she wouldn't be standing broken in front of him if he had never 
walked into her life.  If he had never frightened the silly girl who had been coloring in a 
Scooby Doo coloring book, ring pop on one hand.  Justin put himself in her shoes and saw all 
that she had been up against.  

He had always viewed her as his equal or, perhaps, better.  He had never even stopped to think 
how new and terrifying everything must be to her.  Because she never showed him or the guys 
anything but strength.  Because she had always seemed so competent and strong and perfect at 
everything that she had done.  

But now she seemed just as unsure and afraid as he was late at night, when all the what ifs 
clouded his mind and opened the door for nightmares.  Justin swallowed and did the only thing 
he could think of.  

He stepped forward and caught her as she tried to pull away, cradled her small body against 
his and held her as she cried.

*************************************************************************************

Yeah, how sweet, I can see everyone ohhing and ahhing over my knight in slightly tarnished 
armor.  And the funny thing is, I was crying because of him but I didn't care.  As long as 
he held me everything was okay.  I was okay.  I didn't want him to ever let go, and he didn't.  

Justin Timberlake, player extraordinaire, let me sob and rail and curse and wail.  He 
whispered and soothed and rubbed my back as I gripped the front of his shirt and cried my heart 
out.  And I wanted to hate how safe and warm he made me feel, even though he was soaked to the 
bone, and I wanted to damn badly to pull away.  I didn't want him to see me so weak, to see me 
so vulnerable, but I couldn't make myself be strong anymore.  

So I clung to him when I should have been kicking him out of my apartment, and I took the 
comfort he offered me.  And when I was so tired I couldn't keep my eyes open I let him pick 
me up like I was the child, and carry me into my bedroom.  I curled into a tight, tight ball, 
and let him tuck me in.  

I didn't protest when he peeled his clothes off and put them in my drier before sliding under 
the thick comforter in slightly soggy boxers.  Didn't say a word when he reached out and held 
me against the broad expanse of his chest, so close and tight I almost couldn't breathe.  

Because it felt so good I never wanted to move again.

And we slept, limbs tangled, physical bodies offering comfort to pained hearts as we dreamt 
our dreams and forgot about the world we lived in.  We slept late, late enough for the sun to 
wake us as it rose higher and higher to paint my bedroom golden.  And when we woke up we 
talked.  

About everything we so carefully avoided in the restaurant.  We talked about him, and me, and 
our deepest fears.  I had learned what fabric softener Justin preferred that night we went 
out to dinner but that morning I learned what kind of man he was.  

It was wonderfully sobering experience because Justin was a beautiful person.  He had his 
faults, he still does, but I saw so much of myself in him as we lay in each other's arms.  
And in some ways that conversation frightened me more than anything I had ever done, or will 
ever do, in my life.  

Because all my carefully built defenses were shattered and broken beyond repair and for the 
first time I showed someone the real me.  Showed them all of me.  And I'm not sure what 
surprised me more, that I wasn't as disgusted with myself as I had always thought, or that 
Justin, SIMBA, liked the real me.  

And I started to see what his friends and the world found so damn intoxicating about the bush 
headed wonder.

And I think he started to see what his friends and the rest of the world found so unfathomably 
appealing about little ole' me.  Or maybe he saw it all along.  Maybe he just finally admitted 
it to himself, and to me.  

And that's when I first started to fall in, gag me, love with Justin Timberlake.  

What's the most surprising thing of all is, that's when Simba started to fall in love with me.