Picture This

"Are you absolutely sure you're ready for this?" Taylor looked deeply into my eyes, his own flooded with seriousness.

"Of course." I sent him a confused look. "Why?"

"Normally it's just us Hanson men today," he replied. "So you should feel extraordinarily honored."

"I thought you said it was just you, Ike, and Zac." I sneered at him. "And, as you've told me five thousand times today, we're watching television. It's not like we're contemplating fusing atomic particles or anything."

"This is much more serious." He replied with a scoff, flouncing onto his living room couch next to me.

"How so?" I tried not to smile.

"This.. is tradition." He waved his arms grandly across the living room. I half-expected him to bow in front of the big screen, but instead he reached for the remote off the coffee table at our feet. At least, from being over at the Hanson's house so much, I knew a coffee table existed somewhere under the mounds of junk food that hid it from any source of natural light. I swear, I'd never seen so many bowls and plates of absolute crap; one after another, from every kind and color of potato chip humanly manufactured to pretzels, crackers, dip, bite-sized pieces of various meats, a box of doughnuts, cookies, brownies, even a cake I'm sure his mother slaved over a hot stove to produce.

"No, this is enough food to give the entire neighborhood cavities and high cholesterol levels for the rest of their lives." I pointed to the obvious.

"Shh.. Don't interrupt the moment." He scolded me in a whisper. "It's about time."

"Time for what?" I glanced at the blank television, wondering how much longer the two of us would be sitting in front of it.

"The Big Click." Taylor closed his eyes and aimed the remote at his target.

"The what?" I rolled my eyes at his melodrama.

"The.. annual turning on of the television. Brace yourself."

"You didn't leave it on the porn channel again, did you?" I asked with mock disgust, pretending to shield my eyes with my hands.

"No, of course not." He glared at me, before answering in a low voice, "Only during after hours."

"God, I hope you're kidding or I'm leaving right here and now."

"I am." He assured me, grabbing my hands and pulling them away from my eyes. "Now come on or you'll miss the big moment."

"I just want to know when you're finally going to turn on the television." I blurted out as I settled against Taylor's shoulder. I giggled as his hand drooped and he sighed.

"Are you finished interrupting yet?" He asked me. "The Big Click can only occur with complete silence, as the christening of our momentous occasion."

"Yeah." I muttered, not wanting to get started on the question of the 'momentous occasion' we seemed to be embarking upon.

"Good. Now.. shhh." I covered my mouth with my fingertips as Taylor's index finger hovered over the power button on the remote. It felt as if he was moving in slow motion, which perhaps he was doing to annoy me, which also wouldn't surprise me in the least, his finger lowered onto the button, depressing the rubber slightly until enough pressure had been applied to flatten the darn button. Unfortunately, despite all the grandeur of Taylor's gesture, nothing happened to the television: it continued to stare at us with a dark face.

"Damnit." Taylor crunched his finger down on the button repeatedly, without any luck. "Dead batteries. You must be bad luck."

"Why's that?"

"Because this never happened with Ike."

"Sorry," Like I meant it. "He's a married man now." And probably subjecting Sarah to the same torment right.

"He was always the remote prep guy," Taylor shook his head sadly.

"Can't we just walk over to the TV and turn it on?" I asked as he leapt from his seat on the couch and headed for the kitchen, no doubt in search of a pair of AA's. And no, I'm not referring to one of my bras. That's definitely a direction that both Taylor and I unspokenly agree we will never travel in.. at least that's what I've told him.

"No!" He stopped in his tracks and spun around to face me. "The ceremony must begin with the use of a remote."

"Ok, whatever." I shooed him away with my hand and flopped over onto the couch, giggling when I heard him rummaging through kitchen drawers until he found a pair of batteries. After replacing the ones in the remote, he returned and lifted me out of my laying position, reclaiming his shoulder's place as my personal pillow.

"Now can we get started?" I asked him. Nodding silently, he lifted his arm again toward the television, and slowly lowered his index finger.. Finally this time we got a reaction out of the television as well: a bright, cheerful greeting in fact:

"And today Oklahomans should expect cloudy skies but light precipitation, particularly in the lower eastern part of the state."

Ahh.. the local weathergirl. I pity her. No.. I take that back. I pity me and Taylor - all that drama for the weather channel?

"All the hype to get today's weather forecast?" I asked my obviously psycho boyfriend.

"No.. Now, we surf." He boomed in a deep, commanding voice. "And we feast."

"And we get indigestion." My eyes searched the 'feast' for something that was naturally organic. They rested with relief on a pair of lonely carrot sticks that sat in the corner of the meat tray. Seizing them, I caught the strange look in Taylor's eyes as I bit down into one's orange crunchiness.

"What?" I asked, bits of carrot between my teeth.

"How did those get in there?"

"Carrots?"

"Yeah."

"I put them there." I admitted. Sighing, Taylor shook his head.

"So young, so inexperienced.. so much to learn." He took the remaining carrot stick from my hand and whipped it over his shoulder into the kitchen behind us.

"Taylor!" I scolded him. "Are you sure your Mom's ok with you whipping food, not to mention the only thing I was going to be able to digest without the aid of Peptol Bismal, around her house?"

"I'll clean it up." He promised. "Later. Now.. we surf."

"What are you looking for?" I asked as he started flipping through the channels.

"That's the beauty of it- I have no idea. We just flip until we see something interesting."

"Put it on Channel 23, the TV Guide channel." I instructed him. "We can see what's on today."

"Nope, no can do. That's breaking not only one but two rules of TV Day."

"Oh God, not two rules." Heaven forbid.

"Yup. One, there's no checking of TV guide channels to see what's on and two, no skipping over channels."

"You mean we have to go through them one by one every time?" I asked with a sigh. With their satellite dish, I knew the Hansons received well over two hundred channels. This literally was going to take the entire afternoon.

"Exactly. Now you're learning." Taylor reached over and patted the top of my head softly.

"Great.. Can I have my carrot back now?"

"No."

"Damnit."

"Oh, Taylor stop here!"

"You're kidding me, right?"

"No! This show rocks!" I cried with childish delight.

"Shut up. You're pulling my leg."

"Nuh-uh. I love Xena. She's bad-ass." I settled back onto the couch. "Oh.. damn. This is an episode where she's pregnant. Those are the worst. You can change it if you want."

"I just can't believe you actually like watching The Warrior Princess." Taylor glanced at me warily.

"Seriously, it's good. I like it for the mythology, actually." I explained.

"Mythology.. yeah." He repeated slowly. "That's exactly why I like it too."

"No, I know why you like it, you perv." I punched his shoulder lightly. "I remember when Gabriel used to have long hair and I'd tease Sarah that it was her evil twin."

"Sarah does look a little like her." Taylor squinted at the screen for a moment. "Now I know why Ike married her."

"Taylor!" He earned himself another slug in the shoulder for that comment.

"I'm just being honest here." He defended himself. "Can I help it Gabrielle's hot? No. End of discussion."

"Ha, not exactly. You really are a perv." In all honestly, I don't think I've ever met anyone who's more sexually repressed than me, given his solid Christian values, but nonetheless I just have to tease him about the subject. I shouldn't talk though: between the two of us, to the best of my knowledge at least, I'm the 'tainted' one.

"Well.." He thought for a moment. "I don't think she's hot anymore."

"Like that makes up for it." I pouted. "Wait a minute.. What's wrong with her now?"

"So now I'm the bad guy for not liking her? Someone's logic is more than a little messed up." He poked me in the ribs before explaining,

"She never should have cut her hair. Plain and simple."

"So... You thought I shouldn't have cut my hair short, Tay?"

"That's not what I said." He smiled at me before turning his head back to the television. "Your hair's cute short."

"Cute?" I wrinkled my nose at the word.

"Yeah.. cute." Taylor replied. I took advantage of his absentness by sneaking in my next question:

"So you think I'm cute, but you think Sarah's hot?" I was proud of myself for this one.

"That.. is not my department." Yet, he hesitated before giving that response. I noted.

"And that is not an answer to my question." I pointed out.

"I'm pleading the fifth." He replied stubbornly.

"So you do think she's hot." I smiled knowingly.

"That's not what I said. So do you want to watch Xena or not?"

"Hell no if she's pregnant." I replied. "And yes you did."

"Fine.. Hey! Here's a rerun of Seinfeld. I wonder which episode this is." He paused on the next station. "And I didn't give any answer, so no I didn't say if I think Sarah's hot or not."

"A lack of an answer is often more than a real one." I quoted the calendar that hung above my desk.

"What the hell does that mean?" Taylor asked, sending me a weird look.

"It means that you think Sarah's hot."

"I didn't say that! Geez, she's like my sister now." He replied with exasperation. "Even if I did think she's hot, which I don't, that would be very inappropriate, not to mention just plain sick and wrong, at this point in time."

"Hey, this is the best episode of Seinfeld." I noticed. "It's the one where Kramer collects all those cans and tries to take them to Michigan to cash in on the deposits."

"Seen it too many times." Taylor announced, flicking the channel switcher. Guess that ends that.

"Yeah.. let's not watch a funny show." I moaned at the next option. "Let's watch a bunch of dumb babies."

"RugRats isn't that bad of a show." I couldn't believe he actually defended that drivel.

"I've come to realize I am totally out of touch with the kids' shows of today. My connections with Nickelodeon ended when they cancelled of 'You Can't Do That on Television.' What ever happened to quality shows like that?"

"Alanis Morrisette was on that show." Taylor noted absently.

"So how come you and your brothers were never on any shows when you were younger? Brittany Spears, that guy from N'Sync, I'm sure every one of the Backstreet Boys were all on various ones."

"How on earth do you know that?"

"Before They Were Stars, where I never saw any 'Before They Were Hanson' shows."

"The pitfalls of being hicks from Oklahoma, I guess. We were featured on the local cable network once, but I try to avoid VH1 at all costs." He replied with a shake of his head. "I'm so glad that we got out of the industry as quickly as we did. I don't need any more thirteen year-olds screaming my name and throwing their retainers at me."

"That actually happened?" I giggled at the mental image of Taylor dodging various air-born orthodontic devices.

"Only twice in concerts, thankfully." He recalled.

Twice?

"I don't want to know about it." I raised my hand in front of his face. "Keep that skeleton in the closet. And get those dumb babies off the television!"

"Yes Ma'am."

"Ahhh!!" I screamed loudly at the next option.

"What?" Taylor stared at my obnoxious outburst. Immediately, I covered up my eyes to shield them from the evil corruption the television was now projecting in our direction.

"Make it stop." I whimpered softly.

"It's just a game show.." He frowned with confusion. "Not a particularly good one, but just a game show."

"Not that.."I dropped my voice to a whisper. "It's Regis Filbin."

"Well, he is the host." Taylor rolled his eyes, nearly dropping the remote in frustration. "You dork, you had me worried for a second there. I thought you were serious."

"I am serious, hon." I protested. "He's evil! He makes Satan look like my grandmother."

"You know, sometimes I just don't understand you." Hearty laughter followed the sigh I heard from him. "I think I'm starting to give up trying to."

"I just don't like Regis Filbin." I explained, my hands still covering my eyes. "Is he gone?"

"Yes.." Taylor grinned, pretending to change the channel but muting the volume instead.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course."

"All right, I-ahh!!!" I pried one finger free and peered forward, then dropped my hands and glared at Taylor as he laughed hysterically.

"You lied to me, little sneak." I pointed a finger of warning at him.

"Come on Babe, don't you want to be a millionaire?" He patted my shoulder lightly.

"No, not if Regis is giving it to me." I crossed my arms over my chest and narrowed my eyes. "If you don't change the channel, I will personally castrate you right here and now."

"Ok, let's see what's on next!" Taylor replied earnestly.

"That's what I thought." I grinned when he crossed his right leg over his left and swung them away from me.

"You and me baby ain't nothing but mammals, so let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel!" I belted out with glee as Taylor flipped onto the infamous channel.

"Thank God you never went into the music industry." He glanced at me without much amusement.

"Hey, you could've at least laughed. I thought it was funny."

"Then that's one of us. Please tell me you don't want to watch this." Taylor pointed to the screen where a pair of foxes were running across the prairie together.

"Ohh.." I cooed at the sight. "But they look so cute."

"Won't be for long." He warned.

"What do you mean?" I started to ask when the scene changed to one of the two scenes Discovery Channel animal specials are known for: the mounting of one animal onto another. I could only hope that a birthing scene would be coming up in a few minutes, that'd be the second.

"Eww, gross. Change it now."

"I told you." Taylor replied in a sing-song voice. At least he obliged with my wishes.

"Now this is some quality programming." I groaned at the next channel, an old rerun of Buffy the Vampire. Personally, I think anyone with the name Buffy deserved a death wish.

"This is actually good."

"Oh come on." I scoffed at him. "You don't actually like this show, do you?"

"Heck yeah. What's not to like?"

"What exactly is there to like? A girl dressed in clothes that are just a bit too tight running around and kicking the crap out of vampires-" I caught myself before finishing the thought, loosing any thread of respect I'd previously had for my boyfriend.

"You're just another one of .. them, aren't you?" I pretended to sniffle.

"Yup, sorry."

"Beneath all those hair products, there exists a raging hornball in you, right Taylor?"

"Not even close."

"Good. I think you want to change the channel now then."

"All right, all right. But we're coming back to this channel if nothing else is on." He finally flipped channels.

"Now this is more like it." I laughed heartedly at the next option.

"The Traveling Antique Show?" Taylor rolled his eyes. "This has to be the dullest program in the world."

"No, Buffy stole that title already. I was only kidding anyway." I assured him. "You actually think I like watching about old people's crap? Knowing the hype of television, the appraisers are probably inflating the prices to get higher ratings."

"So you don't mind if I keep going, right?"

"Go right ahead." I waved my hand at the television.

"You know, I'm really glad you joined me today for this." Taylor wrapped his arm behind my shoulders. "I know it might not be the best of fun for you, but I'm having a good time, your snide comments aside."

"I'm actually having a good time myself." I leaned toward him and grazed his cheek with a soft kiss. "Thanks for inviting me."

"Actually having a good time?" He quoted me with exaggerated surprise. "As in, you were expecting not to have a good time?"

"All right." I corrected myself with a scowl and monotone voice. "I am having a perfectly wonderful time. You are the god of all entertainment and I'm having a hard time restraining from throwing myself on the floor at the mercy of your.. entertainmentness. Or something."

"Well, don't let me stop you." He swept his hand to the floor at his feet.

"Nice try. But no cigar."

I love that jerk.

"Hey Taylor." Ike called to his brother as he apprehensively opened the front door. Taking a few steps into the front hallway, he sighed with relief upon not seeing Taylor sprawled on top of me. Not like it'd happen in this lifetime, but nevertheless the two of us had been alone in the house together for about five hours. It was also more than a comfort that Walker and Diana trusted us that much. It'd taken some time to assure them we weren't the typical sex-crazed twenty year-olds. Given my past, it shouldn't be a surprise.

"Hey." Taylor called from his sprawled-out position on the couch.

"Where's Maggie?" Ike asked, flopping down into the nearest sofa.

"She left about.." Tay checked the clock above the mantle. "Half an hour ago."

"You must be that quick, huh?"

"Not even." Taylor's shoulders shook as he laughed heartily. "This is me and Maggie we're talking about."

"Do I sense a little dissappointment in your tones?" Ike asked sarcastically. "The infamous Taylor Hanson charms no longer working on Mags?"

"They never worked in the first place, if you remember." He joked. "Seriously though, I don't get what's going on with that girl."

"What do you mean?"

"On our anniversary, she seemed really.. distant. Didn't want to get close to me at all." Taylor flipped off the tv, swung his feet off the couch, and faced Ike. "Then she fell asleep on the couch and had a screaming nightmare about someone coming after her."

"You think it was you?"

"I don't know," Taylor replied in a distracted voice, leaving Ike to guess there was more churning in his mind than the words that were coming out of his mouth. "But I don't think so."

"Well, everyone has bad dreams," Isaac noted. "I'm sure it doesn't mean anything."

For months? Taylor wanted to ask the question, but figured it would lead to more probing, so he relaxed when Ike changed the subject.

"How did the Big Click go?" he asked, grabbing a discarded brownie from the coffee table and stuffing it in his mouth.

"Great, except I don't think Maggie was all that impressed by it." He smiled.

"Beginners." His brother scoffed, dark bits of chocolate showing between his teeth. "I've got Sarah working through a twelve-step program myself. But seriously, you and Maggie have a pretty honest relationship, I'm sure if something was really bothering her she'd tell you."

"I can only hope so. What are you doing here anyways?" Taylor sighed and rested his hands behind his head, hoping to mull over the thought before discussing it further. Fortunately for him, Isaac changed the subject for him.

"Brought some crap - I mean, duplicate wedding presents- over for Mom's garage sale." Ike replied. "Sarah's intent on making our apartment liveable."

"So where is the queen of clean?"

"At work," Ike made a face that didn't closely resemble happy.

"And that's a bad thing?" Taylor asked.

"Hey Tay, I need an opinion of yours."

"Shower as frequently as possible." Taylor cracked a smile without looking at him.

"You should take your own advice then," Isaac immediately shot back before turning serious again. "No, I mean about your significant other."

"What about her?"

"Do you ever.. I mean, does it bother you that she's just a.." he stammered.

"A what? Living garbage disposal? The missing link? The cure for cancer? A-"

"An aerobics instructor." Isaac interrupted.

"Why would it bother me?" Taylor sent him an odd glance. "I mean, she loves her job."

"Well yes, but.. " Ike's voice trailed off. "She spends all her work hours wearing skin-tight clothing, stretching and bouncing all over in front of a group of sweaty, studly, muscle-clenching, me-so-horny guys."

"I guess you have a point, when you put it so eloquently." He frowned slightly. "But I never thought of it like that."

"I mean, if you did have a problem with her job, would you say anything to her?"

"Yeah, I guess I would." Taylor looked over at his brother and realized they weren't talking about his girlfriend anymore. "Not liking Sarah's flashbacks to the 1980's?"

"Not exactly," was the mumbled reply. "I just think she's capable of doing more.. than just hair. But, if she's happy, I guess that's all that matters."

"Funny how that works," his younger brother sighed. "As long as the chick is happy, I guess the guy's happy."

"Well, now that we've both decided that life sucks, come help me load the boxes out of the car." As they stood up, Taylor couldn't help but think about his brother's opinion. The more he thought about it, the more he disliked the idea of his girlfriend hanging around a gym with sweaty, brainless guys. Funny how it hadn't even dawned on him until now.

"You said it yourself, it's best to be honest." Taylor glanced at his watch.

"So what are you going to do about?" Ike asked as he followed his brother out of the living room.

"What's best," was the only answer Tay threw behind him.