Lance carefully wiped the pout from his face as he strode up the front walk of the Lofton home, wiping his palms on his jeans. Wincing, he marvelled at how cramped his hands felt from being clenched around the steering wheel for the two-hour drive from his house to his sister's. He hadn't been angry or upset at all; Stacy and Ford had been planning a night getaway and intended to leave their four-month old daughter -- his niece! he still couldn't believe it -- with a babysitter. But, as Stacy had explained, the stress of the situation plain in her voice, the sitter had cancelled at almost the last moment, and they couldn't get a hold of anyone else.

So, since Lance was home for the week, he had offered to watch little Shelly for the night. And his personal problems and causes for minor temper tantrums -- yes, he knew that tomato sauce stained walls, now that he'd flung around a spoonful in frustration while cooking supper -- could wait. Until the tour started up again. Oh, he was not looking forward to that. Maybe this night with Shelly was what he needed, to cheer him up a little bit.

"We really appreciate you doing this for us on such short notice," Stacy breathed in lieu of a greeting when she opened the door, pulling him inside the foyer by the hand. Swinging the door shut with a firm push of her fingers, she embraced him and kissed him wetly on the mouth, her appreciation oozing from the gesture. "Like I said over the phone; we've been planning this for weeks, and just the thought that we'd have to cancel after--"

Lance cut her off, following her into the living room where Ford stood, holding his tiny daughter through a bout of fretfulness. "It's okay, Stace," Lance assured her. "I understand, and these things happen, and I told you it'd be okay with me." He reached out to take Shelly from Ford, who gave her up gratefully. "You two have a good time, okay? Me and the missus are gonna have a great time tonight, right Shell? Sweetie?" He cooed at her, mocking her petulant expression and jiggling her gently in his arms.

"Her bottles, a couple pairs of diapers, wipes, everything -- it's all in her baby bag there by the couch," Ford explained, taking his jacket from Stacy with a grateful smile. "That's if you wanna stay down here. If you go up to the nursery you should be able to find whatever else you need, or, you know, diapers, whatever else...." He trailed off as Stacy led him backwards into the foyer. Lance waved at him.

"Ford -- I got it. I've been here before, I've done this before, everything's okay, all right?" Grasping one of Shelly's hands between his fingers, he made her wave at her retreating father. "Say 'bye-bye' to Daddy! Say 'bye-bye' to Mommy! Bye-bye!" he called in a raspy falsetto.

"We love you and we owe you, Lance; thanks!" Stacy yelled over her shoulder as she closed the door.

"Don't make another baby while you're out there, y'hear?" Lance yelled in response.

Lance sighed. "Why am I here, honey?" he asked the little girl who was stirring to wakefulness on his lap. "I'm so glad I was in town this week so I could do this for your parents, but I'm not supposed to be here. I'm not supposed to be in Mississippi this week." His voice dropped from its already soft tone as he played absently with the sparse blonde hairs decorating her head. "I was supposed to be staying in Florida for our break, did you know that?"

Shelly stared up at him as he nodded at her. "Yeah, I was," he said in response to his own question. "But I decided to come here instead because... well, my friend JC -- he's your Uncle Josh..." Lance frowned in thought. "Do you remember Uncle Josh? Of course you don't remember; you're too little. But he's the one who gave you all the Disney movies. When you're old enough he'll do the broom dance from Fantasia for you, and you'll thank him for it, believe me."

He paused again. "You probably wanna eat right about now, don't you?" he mused aloud, rising to his feet with his niece in his arms. "But yeah," he resumed the monologue as he heated Shelly's milk on low. "I haven't been so good around your Uncle Josh these days anymore. I've been avoiding him a little, 'cause we've been friends for so long, and the thing is that... I kinda think I love him. Not like..." he rolled his eyes, attempting to clarify. "Not like the way I love you, or the way I love your other uncles, like Uncle Joey or Uncle Chris or Uncle Justin."

Testing the milk against his wrist, he gathered the baby bag and trudged out of the kitchen and up the stairs to the nursery. A glance at his bundle confirmed that she was still alert and somewhat attentive. "I love your Uncle Josh like your Daddy loves your Mommy, kinda. Like I wanna have a house with him and plan nights out, too, you know? But even if I didn't get that, I'd just wanna be able to hold his hand and look at him sometimes. I'd just wanna let him know I was thinking about him."

He kicked the nursery door shut behind him. "It wouldn't be so bad if I thought I didn't have a chance, either. 'Cause that I could get over. I mean, you just dust yourself off, right? No big deal. But sometimes I feel like maybe he likes me back. Sometimes he flirts with me, and we'll joke around, and he just pays more attention to me than the other guys. And it makes me wonder if maybe I do have a shot." Lance dropped the baby bag and settled into the giant rocking chair next to Shelly's crib, pulling her closer to him to begin her feeding.

He fell silent for a long moment, considering his own words, as he administered to his niece. Shelly's tiny fingers curled around his pinky as he tilted the bottle upwards, its contents disappearing rather rapidly now. She gurgled slightly, her wide blue eyes focused on his face, and he chuckled.

"Oh, I know what you're thinking," he said knowingly, crossing his legs. "You're thinking why don't I just tell him, because how bad could it be, right? I mean, if he's flirting with me and he cares about me, maybe he'd be interested in trying to make a relationship work too, right?" Lance sighed and shook his head slightly.

"But it's not that simple, honey," he murmured. "What if he's not interested? Best case scenario, he looks at me and he gets all droopy-eyed--" Lance stuck out his lower lip and gazed dolefully at his niece. She didn't seem affected, instead choosing to squeeze his finger-- "And he says, 'Oh, Lance... I love you, man, but... not that way... I mean... God, I'm really sorry....'" he sighed. "So then I'll be like, 'Oh, no, no, Jace, it's okay; it's not like I'm sprung or anything... I'll be fine -- I just wanted to know if there could be somethin', but no, it's fine, really.' And that wouldn't be so bad. Would it?" he asked, bouncing Shelly slightly in his arms.

With a staggered sigh, Shelly pulled her mouth from the nipple of the bottle and turned her head, and Lance set the bottle down by his feet before straightening her in front of him. "Yeah," he admitted, gripping her under the armpits and watching her head loll weakly, a droplet of milk still clinging to her lips. "I don't think it'd be all that great either. But," he continued, checking his shoulder to ensure that the towel he'd placed there earlier was still in place, "it could be a lot worse, you know?"

He carefully leaned her over his shoulder and began to rub her back in a circular pattern. "I didn't even tell you the worst case scenario yet. Wait'll you hear that one. So I tell him I'm like, nuts about him--" he glanced heavenward and re-evaluated his words. "Okay, so I don't tell him I'm nuts about him; I tell him I like him -- and he's like... well, I don't think he'd be grossed out, 'cause he just... isn't like that..." Turning his head, he addressed Shelly directly. "Your Uncle Josh is very supportive of the Gay Rights Movement, sweetie," he said, in an official-sounding tone, pausing to laugh at himself.

"But..." he began, becoming more serious. "What if he gets really uncomfortable around me after that? Like, what if he tells me it's okay, but then after that he just doesn't want to be around me as much? Or... I dunno... what if he keeps hanging around me just because he's afraid I'll think he's avoiding me if he doesn't?" Lance frowned, and his hand slowed in its ministrations. "My God, I'd never know it if he did that. Oh my God." Shelly squirmed slightly, and with a start or realization he recommenced rubbing her back. "Do you think he'd do that? He wouldn't do that, would he?"

Lance was met with a penetrating stare, with wide eyes that rarely blinked, eyes that had no idea whatsoever what he was talking about. He smiled goofily at her, scrunching up his face, and touched his nose to hers before she craned her tiny neck and attempted to rest her chin on his shoulder. "I know, I know... I shouldn't think like that. JC wouldn't do that to me and I should know better, I should." He looked at her over his shoulder as she finally belched, and grinned. "And I hope you're not just saying that to make me feel good," he quipped.

"So," he went on. "Maybe I don't have a good reason to be scared, but I am anyway. I know you don't know what that's like yet, but you just get to thinking about all the bad stuff that can happen in the future, and sometimes you end up making decisions that are for the good of other people instead of what you really want." Shelly belched again, and Lance held her in front of him once more, uncrossing his legs and rising to his feet. "Like, I'm thinking about stuff like what happens if we did get together, and what if we, like... fight or something. Or break up." He laid her in her crib and handed her one of her toys to fiddle with, picking up another to distract himself as he spoke.

"I hear what you're sayin', Shell, and I totally agree. I do think too negatively about this, and I should focus on what's going on now instead of what could happen later. 'Cause we might not break up, too. But just to be fair... what if we did? Would it affect the group? What if the guys started taking sides? What if it was a really messy break up, and the group fell apart?"

Shelly made a grab for Lance's finger and missed, and he held still, waiting until she could grasp it. "I can't think of anything that could make us break up, either, Shell," he said softly. "But what do I know? Maybe I'm just not thinking right. I dunno."

He frowned, biting the inside of his lip in thought. "You really think I should do this? 'Cause right now I wanna give him a call and tell him, and if you think I shouldn't, now's the time to say something about it."

Shelly smiled up at him, and he wasn't sure if it was genuine or gassy, but Lance returned the smile enthusiastically, withdrawing his finger from her palm, and pulled out his cell phone anyway. "I'm so glad we had this little talk," he whispered to her, as he waited for JC to pick up on the other end.

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