"Carter get off the damn phone and into the booth!" Kevin Richardson yelled out into the hall. Nick Carter started, and looked at his watch.
"Oops," his girlfriend giggled on the other end of the line.
"Oops is right," Nick groaned. "I gotta go, Sam. See you tonight?"
"Of course. I'll be waiting," she said in a sing-song voice. "Love you."
"Love you back." He clicked off his cell phone and headed into the studio. He was greeted with good-natured grumbling and comments about being whipped. A glare silenced them all, and three takes of his solo went even further towards killing any complaints.
"I'll say this for you, Nicky. Being in love is great for your voice." Howie said with a grin.
"Hell for your social life," A.J. muttered.
"Whazzat Bone?" Nick drawled dangerously.
"C'mon man. I ain't seen you out of the studio in months."
"That ain't new," Brian said, shrugging. "Nick's not a clubber."
"Where have *you* been?" A.J. shot back. "The three of us were always out on the town."
Nick nodded slowly. "He's right Frick. Since you and Leigh Anne... it's hard to play video games with a partner who's on the phone all the time."
"When was the last time the five of us had a night out?" Howie spoke up. "A real one?"
"No... no..." Kevin shook his head. "Not this weekend, D. Kristin and I..."
"You're always making time for your wives," A.J. challenged. "All *three* of you," he said, including Nick in his stare. "One night. That's all I'm asking. Just a few hours to party like we used to."
"Sam and I have dinner plans," Nick replied evenly. "I won't blow her off."
"Sam works till eleven," Brian pointed out.
"You don't know he goes clubbing, but you know that?" A.J. demanded.
"He notices the important stuff," Nick said evenly. "Even if he does use it against me." He stuck out his tongue at his best friend.
"So, you have no excuse," was the triumphant conclusion. "That settles it. Backstreet's Back on the town tonight!" A.J. was too happy to even duck when Kevin backhanded him upside the head for his cheesy comment.
"Hey Sam? Listen, I'm sorry... No, don't worry, I just might be late. They're kidnapping me for a night out...Not that late, you won't have to wait for me... what? Dammit, I think my battery's dying...Yeah just somewhere nearby. Ok... yeah.... Hon? Damn." Nick hung up as his cell phone died for good.
They'd been at the club for an hour and a half when Nick finally couldn't take it any longer. He and Samantha had a dinner planned, followed by...a long dessert, you might say. He waited until Brian went to the bathroom and the other three were out on the dancefloor before grabbing his wallet and fishing around for enough money to pay for a round. A hand slammed some bills onto the table. Nick looked up, surprise turning rapidly to resignation.
"Nora." The tall brunette in front of him was dressed in a black leather catsuit, a little on the risque side for this club. Nick knew it was more functional than fashionable. He cleared his throat. "Hi."
"There's a little place nearby where you can change. Let's go," she ordered brusquely, before disappearing into the crowd, trusting he would follow. Nick felt ill. For the first time in a while he was ready to protest an assignment. "I've got someone waiting for me," he wanted to say. "Put it off till tomorrow."
But tomorrow would be too late. Tomorrow was always too late. Nick closed his eyes briefly and steeled himself for what was to come. He stood up abruptly and followed Nora into the night.
Sunday morning dawned bright and beautiful. Soft rays of sunshine crept over the dishevled figure spread out over the rumpled bed. A.J. had been out clubbing for the second night in a row. He'd had a pretty good time. Good enough that if the sunshine had the audacity to get into his eyes, he was going to be pretty damn pissed off.
Instead, it was his phone which decided to offend. It rang shrilly four times, causing A.J. to moan and bury his head under a pillow.
"Aje?" Brian's voice sounded over the answering machine. "Pick up. This is serious."
Reluctantly, A.J. fumbled for the handset. "Wha?" he mumbled in the general direction of the mouthpiece.
"Wake up, " Brian instructed sternly. "Nick's missing."
That woke him up with a vengeance. "What?"
"He didn't come home Friday night. Or Saturday. No one's seen him since the club."
Alexander McLean got a very nasty feeling in the pit of his stomach.