A slight shudder ran through the plane, making the hairs on the back of Justin's neck stand on end. Mac's brow furrowed and his grip on Justin's hand loosened. His hand then left Justin's lap and grabbed the controls. Justin squinted his eyes, questioningly at Mac, then suddenly it felt as if the seat had been pulled from beneath him. "Mac!" Justin yelled, scrambling to grab hold of something.

"Just hold on!" Mac yelled over the engine noise. "Hold on!"

"Oh my God!" Justin yelled, as the plane entered a nose dive.
 
 
 

"Teens around the world were in mourning today, as the body of teen idol, Justin Timberlake, was laid to rest in a cemetery outside of Memphis, Tennessee," the newscaster said. "The surviving members of Timberlake's group, boy band 'N Sync, were all in attendance at the service, along with his long-time girlfriend Britney Spears. Extra security was brought in to assist Timberlake's family, Spears, and the remaining members of the group in leaving the area.

"The pilot of Timberlake's plane, former naval aviator Nathan MacKenzie, is scheduled to be laid to rest near his parent's home in Maryland later this week.

"Investigations are still underway into the crash that killed the two, and pilot error has yet to be ruled out."

"Southeast ATC to Cessna seven-one-Charlie, we show you moving through two-nine-hundred feet and descending," the voice on the speaker said, "please advise."

Justin shook his head to regain his senses. His seat had returned beneath him, but the plane was still headed downward, nose first. The wind whipped by in ever increasing speed as Justin watched Mac ease the throttle down and pulled back on the control stick, attempting to level off.

"Repeat, Southeast ATC to Cessna seven-one-Charlie, we now show you moving through two-seven-hundred feet and descending," the voice said, "please advise."

Mac grabbed the mic and answered, "Cessna seven-one-Charlie to Southeast ATC, have encountered pocket of extreme clear air turbulence ... major wind shear."

"Copy seven-one-Charlie, we show you leveling at two-five-hundred feet," the air traffic controller said. "Do you require any assistance?"

"Negative, Southeast ATC," Mac said, "we're fine now, but you might want to put out an advisory for that bad air. That squall's starting to make it nasty up here."

"Roger, seven-one-Charlie," the controller answered, "weather service is issuing warning for your air space. Glad you guys are okay. You are clear to return to 4,000 feet. Clear sailing for the rest of your flight."

"Copy, Southeast," Mac said, "returning to angels four-thousand." Mac pulled back on the stick, and the plane began to climb. He looked over at Justin, and found him gripping both his seat and the handhold above the door, his knuckles white. "Are you okay, Jus?" Mac said, reaching over to take Justin's hand. Justin nodded silently, and Mac squeezed his hand. "Are you sure, baby?"

"Yeah," Justin said. "I guess it's true what they say about your life flashing. Are we okay?"

"Yeah, we're gonna be fine," Mac said, giving him a sympathetic smile. "It was just some bad air. Happens all the time, even on those airliners you're used to, it just feels a lot worse in these smaller planes."

Justin nodded, then took a deep breath to try and calm himself down. He turned to stare out the window, still holding onto Mac's hand. Justin's attention was drawn back, as Mac removed his hand long enough to adjust a few of the controls. Justin watched him as he did his work, then gladly retook his hand when he offered it back. He squeezed Mac's hand lightly and said, "You weren't scared a bit, were you?"

"What?" Mac said, turning to look at him.

"You weren't scared at all during that dive, were you?" Justin repeated.

"You think?" Mac said, then smiled at him. "I was terrified!"

Justin laughed, and said, "You didn't look it."

"You just do your job and keep going," Mac said, shrugging. "Let your reflexes take over, just like you do when you're dancing. Of course, praying helps a lot, too."

"Oh, I had that one covered!" Justin said, laughing again.

"We should be there shortly," Mac said, "I think we crossed into Tennessee a little while ago."
 
 
 

True to his word, Mac landed the plane a short time later, and as Mac made arrangements to store the plane, Justin went and rented a car. Justin pulled up to the airstrip office just as Mac came around the corner carrying their bags. Jumping out of the car, Justin helped Mac to load their things, then hopped back in.

"I know you're worried," Mac said, stroking Justin's arm, "and I know you want to be there yesterday, but be careful, please."

Justin took a deep breath and nodded, then said, "I will, we're here now ... It's better just being closer to them."
 

Pulling into his father's driveway, Justin noticed that neither his father's nor step-mother's car was at home. He looked over into Mac's eyes, then opened the door and climbed out. Mac followed him to the front door, and waited as Justin fumbled with his keys.

"Daddy?" Justin yelled, running through the house. "Lisa? Jonathan? Anybody!"

Mac caught him as he came back through the front hall and pulled him into the living room. "Sit down, Jus," Mac said, as he sat on the couch and pulled Justin down beside him. "Okay, let's think. They're not here, and neither of their cars are here. Who would they leave your brothers with if something was going on?"

"But they were in the accident, too," Justin said.

Mac grabbed his shoulders and shook him slightly. Moving his hands up to cup Justin's face, Mac looked him in the eyes and said, "Don't even think like that. Just take one thing at a time." Mac brought his hands down to take Justin's in his own. "Now, who do they trust enough that they would leave the boys with them if something were to happen? Who's close enough that they would tell what's going on? Who could we call and try and find something out?"

Justin took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "Marianne, next door," Justin said, indicating over his shoulder.

"Do you know her number?" Mac asked.

"No, but it should be on the list by the kitchen phone," Justin said, standing up and starting for the kitchen. "That's where they keep all of the emergency numbers."

In the hall, the front door opened. "Who's car is that in the driveway?" a male voice said. "Did you forget to lock the door on your way out, Lisa?"

Justin ran into the hall. "Daddy!" Justin exclaimed as he threw his arms around his surprised father.

"Justin?" was the only thing that Randy was able to get out before his eldest son nearly bowled him over. The cane he had held in his hand fell to the floor as he wrapped his arms around his son. "Are you okay, son?" Randy asked, pulling back to look into his son's face.

"Justin, Justin, Justin!" said the two young boys who ran to wrap themselves around Justin's legs.

Justin knelt down, enveloping the two in a hug. "Hey, you two," he said, kissing them both on the cheek. "Are you guys okay? Lisa said you guys were in an accident ... then the line went dead and I couldn't get hold of anyone."

"Oh, my," Lisa said, wrapping Justin in a hug as he stood back up. "Justin, honey, I didn't mean to scare you."

Mac stood in the doorway to the living room and quietly observed. Two pairs of young eyes were now sizing him up and he smiled down at them, as he listened to the adults' conversation.

"I'm so sorry, son," Randy said. "It was just a glorified fender bender. We only went to the hospital to get checked out."

"Yeah, that's where Lisa said she was," Justin said, nodding.

"Some construction crew was working down the street from the hospital and sliced a phone cable," Randy said. "Phone service is cut off to half of downtown. I walked out without my cell phone, or we'd have called you back. I hate the idea that you were so worried that you flew all the way up here, but I am glad to see you."

His father pulled him into another hug, and Justin squeezed him saying, "You guys scared me so much. I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you guys." Noticing the cane on the floor, Justin bent down, picked it up and handed it to his father. "Are you sure you guys are all okay?"

"I just kind of twisted my knee," Randy said, "they want me to rest it for a few days, the car was the only one that was really hurt."

"So the rug-rats are okay?" Justin said, bending to muss their hair.

"Hey!" the oldest said, "I am not a rug-rat!"

"My hurt my finger," the smallest said, frowning as he offered the injured index finger up to his brother for inspection.

"He jammed it on the door during the accident," Lisa said. She turned to look at Mac, smiling. He smiled crookedly at her, and shrugged his shoulders slightly.

"I'm sorry, Stevie," Justin said, frowning. "Can I kiss it and make it better?" The tot nodded and Justin kissed it, making him smile. Justin turned when he heard Mac shuffle behind him. "Oh God, I'm sorry, Mac!"

"No problem," Mac said, smiling. "First things first."

"We did teach him manners when he was younger," Randy said, laughing.

Justin stood, rolling his eyes. "Daddy, Lisa ... this is..." Justin said. Reaching back toward Mac, Justin started to take his hand, then moved up to grasp his elbow, and continued, "This is ... my friend Mac. He helped me get up here."

"Hello, Mac," Randy said as he offered his hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Timberlake," Mac said, with a firm hand shake. "Mrs. Timberlake," he said, grasping her hand and bowing his head slightly.

"Please, call me Lisa," she told him.

Mac laughed. "I'll try," he said, "but I've been having the same problem with Mrs. ... Lynn." They all joined in his laughter.

"Why don't we go sit down, Randy's leg's probably still bothering him," Lisa said, gesturing toward the living room.

They all entered the room and took seats. Randy and Lisa in the recliners, and Justin and Mac on opposite ends of the couch. Justin's brothers then climbed between the two young men.

"I thought that strike they were having down there still had the airport closed," Randy said.

"It is," Justin replied.

"Then how'd you..." Randy started.

"Mac flew us up here," Justin said, smiling over at Mac and patting his shoulder.

"He flew you?" Lisa asked.

"Yeah," Justin said. "We couldn't get a flight out, so we went over to the private airstrip and Mac got us a plane and flew us up here himself."

"You do know it's not like renting a car, right son?" Randy asked, his eyebrows scrunched together.

"Yes, sir," Mac said, smiling. "I'm a licensed pilot. Naval aviator ... or I used to be."

"Used to be my..." Justin started, then looked down at his young brothers and continued, "hind end. We could have crashed and you're still like business as usual."

"You what?" Randy yelled, louder than he had intended.

"Crashed?" Lisa said, scooting to the edge of her seat.

"That is not how you break it to your parents, Jus," Mac said, grimacing. "We just ran into some turbulence and lost some altitude."

"Some?" Justin said, looking over to Mac incredulously.

"I've had worse," Mac said, matter-of-factly.

"In a simulator!" Justin said.

"No," Mac said, shaking his head. "Dead stick over the Gulf."

Justin had been joking around, but Mac's statement had thrown him, and everyone in the room could detect the change. "You've done that before?" Justin asked. Mac just looked at him and nodded. "I'm glad you don't do that anymore then."

"Did you boys fly all the way up here after my call?" Lisa said, seeking a way to change the discomforting subject.

"Yes, ma'am," Mac said.

"You must be hungry then," she said. "I don't imagine that they serve a meal on that kind of flight."

"No, ma'am," Mac said, laughing. "Not when you're the flight crew, cabin crew, ground crew, and every other crew all by yourself."

"How about some sandwiches, then?" Lisa said, standing and heading toward the kitchen. "Justin, why don't you and the boys come help me?"

"Sure," Justin said, before turning to Mac. "You gonna be alright here?"

"He'll be fine," Randy said. "Your old man doesn't bite."

"I'm not so sure about that," Justin said. He then gave Mac one last look and went to join the others in the kitchen.

"So, Mac," Randy began. "You said that you were a former naval aviator? Did you retire, or...."

"Oh, no, sir," Mac said, shaking his head. "I'm still active duty. I was just in Florida on temporary duty and dropped by to see Justin and the guys. I had a little accident myself, and banged up my knee ... same one as yours actually." They both chuckled. "They're looking for something a little closer to physical perfection now-a-days for their active duty pilots, so I changed my MOS over to work with the aircraft simulators."

"But you still have your pilot's license, right?" Randy said, a bit of concern in his voice.

"Yes, sir," Mac said, nodding. "I'm still civilian certified, could fly for Delta if the strike got that bad," he said, shaking his head. "I have my military certification as well, and I'm still a reservist. With the cut backs, though, they only want the top of the line on active duty ... and I'm not exactly it anymore." Mac looked over into the face of his boyfriend's father and could still see the concern written there. "Mr. Timberlake, Justin was in no.... No, I'm not going to lie to you, sir. There is always some inherent danger in flying, but what we hit was nothing more than what he's flown through a hundred times in larger jetliners. I would never have taken him up if there were any real danger to him. I'd never let anything happen to him or any of the guys."

Randy sat there for a moment, then his smile broke. "No, I don't think you would," he said.

"Here you go, gentlemen," Lisa said, carrying in a tray of sandwiches. Justin followed with a tray containing glasses and a pitcher of tea, while the two youngest carried in napkins and a bowl of lemon and lime slices. "I know you boys are spending the night, so I set out one of Justin's Aunt Jean's famous casseroles."

"He didn't bite you, did he?" Justin said, laughing as he sat back down on the couch.

"No, I didn't," Randy said, sticking his tongue out at his son. "I was wondering how you ended up meeting a navy guy, though."

"Oh," Justin said, "he's a friend of Lew's."

"Lew?" Randy said, searching through the mental cobwebs. "Oh, okay. He's got good taste."

His wife shot him a brief and indecipherable look, before turning back to the conversation. "How long can you stay?" Lisa asked.

"I don't know," Justin said, "couple of days, I guess. We have to return the plane by the weekend, wasn't it?"

"Yay!" the boys yelled. "You're gonna stay till the weekend?" the oldest asked.

"Yup, Jonny," Justin said, pulling him into a hug, "if you want us to."

"Yeah!" Jonathan said, rapidly shaking his head in that excited way children have. "You're gonna stay, too, right Max?"

Justin and Mac laughed, then Mac said, "Yeah I can stay, too, if it's okay with your mom and dad."

"It's Mac," Justin said, "like a Big Mac from McDonald's."

"I'm sorry," Jonathan said, frowning apologetically.

"It's okay," Mac said, patting his head. "You're Jonathan, right?" The eight year old nodded, puffing up like a peacock at the idea that he might be known by someone older. "So that would make you ... Steven?" The toddler nodded his head firmly, before offering Mac part of his sandwich. "Why, thank you," Mac said, taking the remnants of crust and placing it onto the tray on the coffee table.

Their long day faded into evening, then into night. Justin filled his family in on most of the events in his life since they had last seen him. His brothers brought things to show him that they had done at school or at daycare.

"It's supposed to be fairly warm tomorrow," Randy said. "How would you boys like a cook out on the grill?"

"Oh, man," Justin said, "I haven't had any of your grilled chicken in ages!"

"Well, it's about time you had some then, isn't it?" Randy said, smiling.

"I'll get some peaches and make some cobbler from your Granny's recipe," Lisa said.

"Oh, man," Justin said, rubbing his stomach, "you're gonna spoil me!"

"We're gonna try," Lisa said, then stood up. "Alright, boys, it's time for bed. Tell your father, Justin and Mac goodnight and let's get moving." The two youngsters grudgingly did as they were told then followed their mother back to their rooms.

"Well, guys," Randy said, "you're gonna have to share Justin's room, if that's okay with you. When we moved the stuff around, we made the guest room up here into a playroom for the boys."

Justin and Mac looked at one another. "I think we can handle it," Justin said, smiling.

"Alright, night you two," Randy said. Standing carefully, he grabbed his cane before moving to follow his wife.

"Night, dad!" Justin called after him

"Good night, Mr. Timberlake," Mac said. "You look tired," Mac said, sliding toward Justin. He placed his hands on Justin's shoulders and began to massage them.

"Oh, gawd, that feels good," Justin said, relaxing into Mac's touch. "I feel like I'm 'bout ready to pass out. It's been a long day," he said, emphasizing the word.

"Yeah, it's the stress," Mac said, slowly moving his massaging hands back and forth between Justin's neck, back, and shoulders. "Today was a lot to handle. That's not the only thing though, is it?"

Justin strained to listen for any sounds coming from the other part of the house. Hearing none, he turned to Mac and said, "There's only a double bed in my room."

"I know the deal here," Mac said, "I can sleep on the floor...."

"Like hell!" Justin said. "Sorry ... but you made things so much easier for me today, and not many people would have been able to do that. Then you practically saved my life. You're my boyfriend ... you're not sleeping on the floor."

Mac smiled, cupping the side of Justin's face with his hand. "You know, your drawl gets worse when you're around them," Mac said, then stood up. Taking Justin's hand, he helped pull him to his feet. "Okay, lead the way ... you need some sleep."
 
 
 

Morning came and two small figures were huddled together outside a bedroom door. "You wanna play, don't you?" the taller one said. The small one nodded back to him. "Then go ahead."

The door slowly crept open as the two men slept in the bed inside the room. Justin lay on his back, his bare chest rising and falling rhythmically beneath Mac's hand as Mac lay on his side beside him. The peace of the early Tennessee morning was soon shattered, as the three year old came skidding across the room. After quietly climbing up the side of the bed, he leapt into the air, and came to rest squarely on Justin's stomach.

"Oof," was all Justin managed to get out, before he began coughing and sputtering.

Mac's eyes shot open, as he recoiled instinctively from the intrusion. "Are you alright?" Mac asked Justin, as the coughing blond tried to regain his breath.

"Steven!" Jonathan said, pushing the door open and running into the room. "You know Mommy and Daddy said not to bother them." He wore a scowl on his face, trying to look stern, before turning to Justin and grinning. "Since you're up now... do you wanna come play PS2 with us?"

The child looked so innocent as he said it that Mac did his best to hide the laugh that was building. Though his younger brother had straight hair, his coloring and features were astoundingly close to Justin's, especially the broad grin that now graced his face.

"We'll come play in a little while," Justin said, rolling onto his side and helping his younger brother onto the floor. "Maybe after breakfast."

Mac placed his hand on Justin's arm, burying his face in Justin's back to mask his chuckles.

"Jonathan Ryan Timberlake," their father said sternly from the doorway. Mac could feel Justin instantly tense at the sound of his father's voice. "What did I tell you boys? Leave your brother alone until he and Mac are up!"

"But, dad, I tried..." Jonathan began.

"Jonathan!" Randy said, glaring at the youth. The two youngsters shuffled out of the room, their heads bowed, and Randy swatted each of their butts as they passed. "Breakfast will be ready in a little while if you guys are ready to get up," he said, before closing the door.

"Are you okay?" Mac asked, squeezing Justin's still frozen arm.

Justin managed a jerking nod, before he rolled onto his back. He took a deep breath, then said, "I think so."

"It's okay, baby," Mac said, stroking Justin's arm.

"I've got to tell him," Justin said, staring at the ceiling.

Mac nodded. "I'm here," he said, "and I'm not going anywhere."

---

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