On The Inside

Author's Note- It took me this long to come up with this non-original story line. I thought this up while watching Airheads.

~~~~~~~



"Is everyone in place?"

"Yeah. All exits are covered. Our boys are inside."

"Good. Let's move." Two men dressed all in black each reached inside their trench coats, fingers wrapping around the cold steel of concealed revolvers. The leader, Jared, pushed on the glass door. It was hot from the afternoon sun beating on it for several hours. They kept their heads down, for their black ski masks would be a dead give away for what they were about to do. The second man turned and swiftly locked and chained the doors shut.

When he turned around, all hell broke loose. Jared pulled out his rifle and pointed it to the decorated ceiling. "Everybody down now!" A gunshot emphasized the demand.

Screams echoed through the first floor of MTV building. People fell to the ground, covering their heads and trembling in fear for their lives. Computers blinked and TV monitors continued broadcasting Total Request Live, which went on undeterred by the activity below. The masked leader stepped forward, his thick black boots landing firmly on the maroon carpet. "Now I want everyone to remain still and obey my men. No harm will come to you if you do as you are told. We have a bigger task at hand."

"We got it," the second man said as other masked and armed men stepped forward.

"Good. I'm going up." Jared glanced around, pointing at the distressed employees with this gun. "Tie them up and keep them quiet. We may need them later." He headed towards the elevator, the rush of adrenaline pumping through him, spurring him on. A bounce was in his step and a smile crept over him under his mask as he pushed the elevator button.

A sudden crash to his left stole his attention. Cocking his gun, he cautiously moved forward, pressing his back to the wall before swinging around the corner and pointing his gun down the hall. His blue eyes searched the brightly-lit hallway frantically but found nothing. An overturned trashcan rolled in circles, pushing around crumpled papers. With one last good look around, the man sighed and relaxed, holding his gun at his side. He then walked into the awaiting elevator, smiling once more at his foolproof plan.

~~~~~~~~~~

Chris pressed himself against the wall and held his breath. He listened as the armed man ordered all the present MTV employees to obey. Dark brown eyebrows furrowed and brown eyes stared at the wall across from him as Chris tried to determine if this was another prank or not. What did these guys want? How many were there?

Chris held so perfectly still that his muscles began to cramp. He heard one of the men coming in his direction. Chris broke his trance and frantically searched for a way to escape. Seeing no rooms close enough to safely duck into, Chris looked above him. A vent.

Slipping into double O seven mode, Chris grabbed the trashcan he was huddled next to and placed it under the vent. The singer the jumped onto the trash can, balancing himself against the wall quickly before reaching up with two hands and lifting the vent cover. The footsteps were getting closer, and Chris's heartbeat was getting faster. He jumped, grabbing the edge of the vent and struggling to pull himself up. A shadow appeared on the floor and Chris kicked desperately, accidentally kicking the trash can as a last burst of adrenaline got his small body up into the dark, dusty vent. Chris pulled his feet up and collapsed against the tin vent wall behind him. He panted for breath and began to pray silently. Below him, the footsteps stopped and then eventually retreated.

Now to warn the others.

~~~~~~~~~~

Jared took his mask off and inhaled deeply as he raked his fingers through his dark brown hair. His plan was working wonderfully. No one was causing trouble and his men were being discrete. No need to alarm the cops yet. The situation wasn't totally in his control. Once it was, the world would know.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened on the floor where the popular TRL was being filmed. High pitched screams reached his ears as he pulled his mask back over his face. Jared slung his rifle over his right shoulder and walked out in the hall. Wide eyes followed him but before the frightened employees could reach the doors, more armed men blocked the way. With out too much commotion, the room was secured.

Jared continued his determined walk towards the briefing room for the show.

~~~~~~~~~

Chris had realized three times now that he was not James Bond. Why were air condition vents so dusty? If air was blowing through them, shouldn't they be clean? Nonetheless, Chris was sneezing like mad and now his nose was running faster than he was.

And his knees hurt. He wasn't a kid anymore. His thirty-year-old bones couldn't handle this abuse. Crawling through a small vent was not his idea of a good time. And his knees agreed. God he needed a pill right now. Any pill would do. Maybe a massage. He groaned thinking about it, and kept plowing along.

The third thing that made Chris wish he hadn't done this was the fact that he didn't know where the hell he was going. How did they do this in the movies? It was all dark and shit up here, he couldn't even tell there was a turn in the vent until he ran into the wall. Occasionally he passed over an office, but that didn't tell him anything. All he knew was that the building was a big square with offices both in the center and around the outside. What had he been doing the past two hundred times he was in this building, sleeping? Shouldn't something be looking familiar?

Sighing, Chris pulled out his cell phone and leaned back against the cool wall. He scrolled down in his phone book until he reached Lance's name. Lance would have his phone on. It was always on.

Chris dialed. He looked around. Man it was dark in here. Then Lance picked up.

"Hello? Chris?"

Lance and his caller ID. "Lance, listen, you gotta get out of here. There's guys here, with guns-"

"Chris, where the hell are you? You have to know that you're late for the briefing. I thought you said you were just going to the bathroom. I told the people that you have a bad case of diarrhea, hope you don't mind. Now kindly get back here. We have a show to do."

"No Lance, seriously, I'm in the vents, there's hostages-" Chris was cut off when the air kicked on. A strong, constant cold wind chilled him and made it impossible to hear Lance. Growling, Chris hung up and shoved the phone in his pocket. Goosebumps quickly rose on his arms and legs. He continued moving in the same way he had been, his concern for the others spurring him on.

~~~~~~~~

Lance pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it with a cocked eyebrow. "Who was that?" J.C. asked as he scribbled in a notebook.

"Chris," Lance said. "I think something's up. He said he was in the vents, and something about hostages-"

The door burst open, causing all of them to jump. Inside walked a fairly tall man sporting a fairly intimidating gun. "All of you on the ground now!" he yelled, aiming the gun at Lance's chest then moving down the line to the other members of Nsync.

The guys obeyed quickly, all but falling to the ground. Lance hit the floor with J.C. at his side, and across from them Justin and Joey lay stomach down. The gunman ran over and was backed by four more men. Lance felt his hands pulled roughly behind him and tied tightly with rope. None of the armed assailants said anything as they rendered the singers helpless. Lance looked into the others eyes, afraid to say anything.

"Where's the other guy?" barked the first man. Lance glanced at J.C then shrugged uselessly. " I don't know-"

"My ass!" yelled the man. "Tell me where the fuck he is now!" He pushed his thick black boot into the small of Lance's back, causing the blonde to yelp.

"He went to the bathroom!" Joey yelled. "Leave him alone!"

The masked man took his boot off Lance and circled around to stand in front of Joey. "Are you sure about that?" he asked, kneeling down.

Joey searched Lance's face the stared into the man's face. "I'm positive."

Jared stood up. "Search the bathrooms. Bring him to me." The other men left, leaving Jared alone with the four remaining members of Nsync. Jared walked around Joey and nudged him with his boot. "All of you get up." Jared locked the door and watched them.

"What do you want?" J.C. ventured, staying close to the others against a wall.

Jared stepped forward but never left his guard at the door. "Think about it pretty boy. I know you're pampered, but trust me, this one even you can figure out."

"Why don't you save us the time and just spill it?" Justin said quietly, keeping his head down.

"Money, plain and simple," Jared answered. "You're gold, kid. All of you. What wouldn't the world pay to have you five little rays of sunshine back on stage?"

The guys looked to each other.

"See, simple. Now we're just going to sit here and wait."

"Wait for what?" Lance asked.

"TRL."

~~~~~~~~

"ACHOO!" Chris sniffed and continued crawling. This sucked. This would happen today. He was having such a good hair day. And wearing his favorite FuMan shirt.

The air shut off and Chris suddenly felt hot against the absence of the frion filled air. Light filtered up through a vent in front of him. Chris crawled over it and peered down, trying to get his bearings. Two men dressed in black walked under him.

"What's he doing with them once we get the money?"

"Who knows. But Jared is not a man to stick to his word."

Chris sighed. Time to access the situation. So what we had here was a building under siege, and his friend's probably being held hostage, if he could ever figure out WHERE HE WAS. There was one fast way to find out, though, although it may not be the safest. The two men were gone now, and Chris pulled open the cover to the vent. After taking a breath, he lay down and lowered his head into the hallway. The two masked men just rounded a corner and the rest of the building was clear. Chris looked at the floor. Man, that was a long way down. Then the though of his friend's lying hurt and bleeding and dead played through his mind. Chris would not let that happen, no matter how scared he was. He sat up in the vent and let his legs dangle over the edge.

"One, two, three," he whispered, then he pushed himself, falling to the floor in a heap, the impact setting fire to his cramped knees. "Shit," he hissed. Chris then remembered where he was, and more importantly, what was happening, and got up, hobbling into a vacant office.

Chris softly hummed the theme song to Mission Impossible and looked around the doorframe into the hall. Still empty. He looked around and realized that he wasn't that far off from his goal. The briefing room was right down the hall and around the corner to the left. Chris smiled despite himself and silently prided himself on his innate sense of direction.

Chris looked around the office. If he were going to play rescue hero, he would need some kind of protection/defense. The small office was decorated with signed posters and personal pictures. Crumpled papers lay in one corner, beside the trash can. The desk was a mess. Chris walked to the desk and looked for something useful. Tons of pens and paper clips and papers and colored pencils and change scattered the surface. A computer hummed softly and it's screen saver bounced on the screen. Chris circled the desk and opened the top drawer. A letter opener! Perfect! With a smile, Chris pocketed the long silver item and went back to the door.

He opened it and cautiously peeked out, grateful for the still abandoned hallway. As silently as possible, Chris slipped out and slid against the wall and around the corner, then up to the closed door of the briefing room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The man glared at them through his heavy ski mask. He stood, unmoving, in front of the door. His gun was trained on Justin's stomach.

Joey sighed and tried to relax. As long as he didn't move, their lives would be spared. There was only half an hour until TRL actually went on the air. When the special guests Nsync didn't show up, someone would come looking. Then they would be saved. Right now his thoughts were on Chris and wondering what was taking him so long to get here. Judging by the size of the assailants, they would have no trouble apprehending a short almost thirty year old boy band member. Unless something went wrong. Unless Chris tried to make a run for it and they shot him. Or if he put up a fight and they were currently kicking the shit out of him. Or-

A movement caught Joey's eye and he looked up at the masked man. Joey looked past him and through the door's small window, which allowed a limited view of the hall. Was that- Joey mouth dropped open when brown spiked hair appeared at the bottom of the window. He immediately shut it when his eyes focused on the icy stare of the man who was partially blocking the window. Joey looked at his friends to see if any of them saw what he was seeing.

Joey turned back to the window. The others were looking at their feet, most likely preparing to die. Then Chris's head rose up a little more until Joey could see warm brown eyes dart around quickly before sinking below the window frame. A few seconds later, Chris's whole face appeared in the window. He smiled, and Joey smiled back, quickly, and not very big. 'Bathroom' Chris mouthed, then held up his hands, making two fingers walk across the palm of his other hand. Joey's eyebrows furrowed, and Chris's eyebrows raised in urgency and mouthed bathroom again.

Joey watched as Chris suddenly looked to the right and went into shock. The face disappeared from view momentarily, then reappeared briefly before Chris broke into a run. One second later, two men dressed in black ran by.

The Italian looked beside him to see if anyone else had noticed. Nope. Joey looked back to their captor. "Um," he spoke up. "I have to use the restroom."

Jared eyed the stocky singer. "Tough shit."

"No, seriously, I really gotta go."

"I don't care."

"Come on man, if you don't let me go you're gonna have a mess on your hands."

Jared thought for a second before finally opening the door and yelling. "Hey! Get in here and take pretty boy to the john."

Another man appeared behind Jared and walked to the bound Joey. "Come on," he grunted, pulling Joey forward roughly.

Joey looked over his shoulders at the others and smiled brightly to ease their worries. Then he turned and trudged behind the gunman.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chris ran faster than he ever ran before in his entire almost thirty years. The two armed men ran after him, thundering down the hall. Just as he rounded the corner, a gunshot rang out and a flash of light sparked off the metal panel for the elevator button. His skate sneakers slapped the tile floor and screeched as he rounded another corner, running blindly in escape mode.

Ha! A closet! Chris slipped inside and pulled the door shut quickly but was careful not to slam it. Chris's heart was racing, beating madly against his chest. A drop of sweat slid down his temple. He backed against the mops and brooms and chemicals piled in the musty cleaning closet and prayed. Soon two sets of footsteps thundered past, leaving Chris listening to only the ringing silence of a building under siege.

Knowing he couldn't stay in the dark safety of the closet forever, Chris slowly opened the door and peered out into the brightly-lit hall. Empty. Chris opened the door all the way and headed for the closest bathroom. He crept along the wall, slowly and cautiously peering around every corner to make sure the coast was clear. He was getting pretty good at this undercover/escapee thing he had going. Maybe even starting to like it. Well, maybe not.

Chris pressed his nose to the wall and began to slide around the last corner. Sure enough, a guard was standing at full attention outside the bathroom door. Okay, now we need a plan. Chris leaned against the wall and pondered quickly, wracking his brain for every move he'd ever seen done in this situation. He didn't have a gun, so that cut out half of the movies right there. No smoke bomb, no one else to help him, no paper clips and baby powder, so that left only Walker, Texas Ranger and... oh wait, Sully from Dr. Quinn had a tomahawk. So that left Walker. What did Walker do?

Chris couldn't remember. Something with his badge probably. He took a deep breath. That meant only one thing. He'd have to run out there and get the guy to chase him. Wait! He had an idea! He turned and took off at a trot in the direction he just came.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Joey paced. Okay, he was here, where was Chris? Was he okay? What if they killed him? He had heard a gunshot but couldn't determine where it came from. What if Chris had died trying to save their lives?

Joey splashed cold water on his face and forced himself to stop thinking like that. If they had killed Chris, he surely would have heard about it by now. Joey walked in a stall and flushed the toilet for good measure. He was running out of time. There was only so much time one could possibly take to relive themselves and Joey's limit was almost up. Chris better show up soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chris was now on the other end of the hall, looking at the man in black from the opposite side. He was amazed at how easy it was for him to get around without being detected. Maybe because the gunmen were so concentrated on keeping everyone in.

Chris would admit to anyone that he was proud of this scheme he cooked up. He thunk this up all by himself. His mom would be proud.

Chris pulled out his cell phone and carefully set it on the floor. Then, assuming the runner's position, he reached down and with one finger, hit the ringer button.

He was off.

~~~~~~~~~~

Joey froze. What was that noise? It sounded familiar. Too familiar. It sounded like Chris's cell phone. What was going on?

Joey cracked the door and looked into the hall. His 'bodyguard' was running down the hall, towards the happy sound of Chris's cell phone. Joey began praying for his daredevil friend.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Chris ran with a smile. He heard Joey's guard corner the lone cell phone, and could almost feel the other man's confusion. Greased lightening! Woah, where did that come from? Oh well, that's what he felt like right now. Man he was good.

Chris rounded the corner and ran full speed for the bathroom door. The guard was now at the other end of the hall, looking in the opposite direction and trying to discover where the cell phone came from. Hehe. Stupid captor-man-guy.

The brunette ran into the door and smacked against it, falling flat on his back. Dazed, Chris sat up and blinked, clearing his vision just in time to see Joey push the door open. Damn door. Doors should open both ways.

Chris's vision blurred and darkness enveloped him.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Joey heard the thump on the door. It was more than a thump actually, it was a force that splintered the doorframe. Joey stepped forward and opened the door, startled to see Chris looking up at him from the floor. "Chris, what-" Joey jumped as Chris passed out. He came forward and looked around, the knelt down beside his friend. What the hell happened? Whatever it was, it didn't matter; he had to get them out of the openness of the hall and back into the shelter of the bathroom.

He grabbed Chris by the armpits and dragged the knocked-out man into the bathroom, shutting the door after them. "Chris, come on, wake up man," Joey muttered, slapping Chris lightly. "Come on buddy, we don't have that much time here..." Joey turned on the water and began splashing Chris's face. Only then did he realize the shorter man was covered in filth and he looked like he had just rode twenty minutes down a highway with his head out the window. "What the..." Joey shook his head, knowing there would be time for Chris to explain later. He knelt down next to his friend again and smacked him a little harder. He would pay later for leaving a mark on his friend's cheekbone, but right now they had to leave.

Chris winced and turned away. With a small moan, he opened his eyes, blinking into the bright florescent light. Rolling his head back, he focused on Joey. "What happened?" he asked.

Joey stood him up. "No time for that, what's your brilliant plan for getting us out of here?"

The shorter man's eyes widened as if he was suddenly aware of his surroundings. "Oh shit..." he grumbled, standing on his own. He frantically searched the ceiling for a vent. He found one in the corner, but it was smaller than most. "You think you can fit through that?" he asked as he stood under it.

"What, the vent? Are you kidding? I can't fit my fat ass through there!"

"You're gonna have to, they're coming!" Chris argued, standing on the sink and lifting off the vent cover.

Joey moved closer and watched as Chris struggled to lift himself up into the vent. After momentarily watching Chris kick wildly, Joey stepped forward with outreached hands to aid his friend. "Ow, damnit Chris!" Joey yelped and jumped back after Chris's heel collided with his jaw. With vengeful roughness, Joey grabbed Chris's feet and shoved his shorter friend up into the vent.

Once Chris was safely in the vent, Joey stood on the sink and grasped the edge, pulling himself halfway in before feeling the small rectangle of metal pinch his sides. "Shit Chris, I'm stuck," he grumbled, hearing the bathroom door open. "Go on, get out of here!"

"No, I got ya," Chris argued, grabbing Joey's arms and pulling. "God Joey, why couldn't you have taken the PR's advice for once and gone on a diet?" Chris pulled with all his strength, sinking to the vent floor, his sneakers squeaking on the smooth surface.

Joey felt strong hands wrap around his ankles and begin to pull with a force that matched Chris's. Joey kicked frantically, making contact with the man hard enough for him to momentarily loose his grasp.

Chris heaved and grunted and pulled and tugged like a terrier unwilling to let go of his favorite toy. He felt Joey slipping as he struggled, and suddenly Chris fell back, Joey in his lap. "Hi," he smiled.

"Don't tell anybody that we were ever in that position," Joey threatened, crawling past Chris.

Chris smiled and turned to follow Joey. "You know-" Chris was cut off as his right leg was pulled out from under him, sending him crashing to the floor. Chris wriggled and turned, looking back behind him and seeing the muscular gunman. With a strong and desperate kick, Chris escaped the enemy's grasp and hurried towards Joey. Thankfully, the gunman was too muscular to fit through the small vent opening.

"That was close," Joey panted as they crawled through the darkness. "You been doing this long?"

Chris smiled. "Yeah, it's one of my past times. You know, right up there with naked mud wrestling."

Joey looked seriously at Chris for a moment. "Are you okay? Aside from knocking yourself out?"

"I got a hard head. I'm fine. What about you and the others?"

"They're being held hostage in the briefing room. The leader wants to go on TRL and announce our ransom. I don't know how he'll like having two of his prizes missing."

"Well he'll have to live with it then won't he?" Chris grinned, his mind already turning up ideas.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"He what?"

"I don't know what happened sir, I went to check something out and when I come back two minutes later, fatty and your mystery man escaped into the air system."

Jared sighed. "Then you turned your back two minutes too long, didn't you?" He ended with a punch to the man's stomach. "Now close off all the vents but one, gas the whole damn thing, then you guard that one vent and wait for them to come crawling into your lap." Jared glared at his three remaining hostages. "This won't work without all of them. Now go, now!"

In a heartbeat, the gunman was off to carry out his boss's plan. Jared turned to Lance. "I hope you didn't know about this," he snarled, getting close. "Because after I get my money, the five of you will be my personal toys. Now you can be good and live, maybe, or you can fight me and most certainly wind up slashed and dismembered in a gutter alongside a dark country road. The choice is yours." Jared looked each of them in the eye one last time then turned and resumed his stance in front of the door. Lance looked at J.C., then to Justin, worry emaciating in the colors of green and blue.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey Joey?"

"What."

"You remember that one time, when we were jetskiing and I totally wiped out and smashed into that huge rock and was all lost and shit and you saved me?"

"Yeah. You had to get surgery for that."

"Well, this is kinda a pay back for that."

"Oh. Okay. Thanks." Joey smiled in the darkness.

"Do you think we're gonna get out of here alive?"

"Yeah, of course."

"I hope," Chris replied.

"Chris?"

"Yeah?"

"Before you did that little stunt with your cell phone, you did call the cops, right?"

"Uh..."

"Oh God."

Chris saw a sliver of light reflect off Joey's boot as he turned a corner. "Joey, come on, I mean, if you were in my position, would you think about calling for help, or making sure that the four people that were brothers to you, that you'd give anything for, were safe?"

"Chris, you're an idiot."

"Oh I see, I save your sorry ass and this is the thanks I get. Here I come to save the day, possibly take a bullet for my best friend, and how does he thank me?" Chris crawled along. "He calls me names and makes fun of me. Thanks Joey, I see how it is."

"Chris, go to hell."

"Make me."

"Do you at least know what happened to Lonnie and Big Dog and everyone else?"

"Nope."

Joey sighed. "Well I don't think that we stand much of a chance without one of them, so lets go find them."

"After you, Mark Twain."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Look whatever your name is, Chris has a cell phone and I'll bet you a thousand dollars that he already called the police. Why don't you be smart and let us go before you get yourself killed?"

"Because I happen to know that your hero did not call the cops. We checked his phone of the past calls and none were to 911 or anywhere other than one of you. So just sit there and shut up."

"That figures," J.C. groaned quietly. "Never count on Chris."

"Hey, he rescued Joey already. Maybe between the two of them they can work something out," Justin said. "Don't give up hope already."

Lance smiled and whispered, "Chris is a pussy anyway. He's not about to let himself get caught. He'll stay safe until he comes up with the most foolproof and sure fire plan he can."

Jared stopped his quiet conversation with one of his men and looked at the group of three singers. Then he looked back at the gunman and asked, "This place has a P.A. system, right?"

"Yeah, we turned it off in case anyone tried to call for help."

Jared pulled out his gun and walked towards Lance, grabbing him by the collar. "Forget bringing our escapees to me. We'll let them come to us. Turn the P.A. back on, me and blondie here have an announcement to make."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Are we there yet?"

"No, I don't think-"

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

"Are we there yet?"

"Chris, we're not on TV, cut the-"

"Are we there yet?"

Joey swallowed his annoyance. "Yes."

"Yes?"

"No."

"Oh. Are we there yet?"

Joey stopped. "Do you smell something?"

Chris sat against the wall behind Joey. "Yeah, kinda. What is it?"

Joey looked around the dark vent. About eight feet ahead of them, light filtered through from a vent. "I don't know, but I bet we shouldn't be breathing it in. Come on."

Chris exhaled as he got to his hands and knees again. His knees were really killing him now. He was almost grateful they had to leave the air ducts. "You don't think this is a trap or anything, do you?"

"I don't know. Guess we'll find out. Follow me." Joey pulled the vent cover up and slid it away from them. The fumes were stronger now, and visible. The stench was retched and it made them cough. "They're flushing us out," Joey said, and lowered his head in the room below to look around. "It's clear," he announced, sitting up and swinging his legs down. He heard Chris coughing a little harder behind him and jumped down into the empty room. Chris followed soon after. "You okay?" Joey asked.

"Peachy," Chris replied. "Now where are we?"

"Attention my two runaway members of Nsync," A voice called over the intercom. "It is in your best interest that you come to the briefing room right now. If you're not here in the next three minutes, I will blow the brains of this blonde young man beside me. Lance, is that your name?"

"Yeah."

"I repeat, Lance will die if you are not here in the next two minutes and forty seconds. That is all."

Chris and Joey looked at each other in shock and worry. "You think he's serious?" Chris asked.

"I think that's a chance I'm not willing to take," Joey replied.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You wouldn't," Justin said.

"Oh I would. Wanna try me?"

"You said you need all five of us." Justin replied, his eyes nervously darting from the clock to Jared's gun against Lance's head.

"Yeah, well..."

"Then why aren't you on TV now, demanding money?" J.C. spoke up.

"Like I said, anorexic, plans change. This is much more exciting. And I think the seriousness of the situation will be realized more if one of you are already dead." Jared grinned evilly. He was sick of these waiting games. He wanted to be done with this and sitting on some private island thousands of miles from here.

Justin and J.C. looked at each other, then sympathetically at Lance. The southerner was sweating bullets, eyes glued to the clock and probably silently praying for God's speed to be with Chris and Joey. So were they.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Do you think they're okay?" Chris whispered. He and Joey slowly made their way down the quiet, brightly-lit hallway.

Joey looked at Chris. "Why the fuck are you whispering? They know we're coming."

Chris cleared his throat and looked at the floor. "Sorry."

Joey sighed. "No, I'm sorry. This is just a little stressful, you know? I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Chris replied. He looked up at Joey with sparkling eyes. "What are we gonna do?"

"I don't know," Joey said, looking straight ahead. "We'll think of that when we get there."

"Well we're there." They stopped in front of the closed briefing room door. Chris and Joey looked at each other and took a breath. "Shall we?"

Joey nodded. They stepped forward together and Joey opened the door.

Chris took the first tentative step in and was immediately greeted with the butt of a rifle to the stomach. The air was forced out of Chris's lungs as he doubled over, feeling Joey's helping hands on his sides.

The man Chris had seen earlier stepped in front of him with a grin. "Well well well, three more seconds and your buddy here would find himself missing his brains. Nice timing."

Chris straightened and searched for J.C., Lance and Justin. Seeing them standing safely behind the gunman, he felt a wave of relief sweep through him. "Yeah, well we're here now, so lets get this show on the road."

Jared walked around Chris, studying the smaller man. "Are you the one that's been eluding my men?"

Chris smiled a cocky smile and glanced at the others. "Yeah, I suppose that would be me," he stated.

Jared moved in front of him with lightening speed, rifle raised. The dark singer cringed, and Jared smiled, slowly lowering his weapon. "That's what I thought. A lesson to all of you, piss me off and you won't be conscious long enough to find out what happens."

Chris looked at Lance, his attitude much mellower. "I got it," he said quietly.

"Good," Jared smiled. "Now, lets take a trip. We have a show to do."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few big muscled men led the five Nsync members down the hall, just like all the past times. Except before, they didn't have guns in their backs and their spirits were much higher. Jared led them to the set door, and then cast a grin at them before pushing open the door.

"Okay people, listen up!" He yelled, firing his gun and causing all the girls to erupt in terrified screams. "You all sit there and shut the hell up and no one will get hurt!"

Carson Daily backed away, stopping beside a camera. "What's going on here guys?" he asked, trying to decide this was all a prank.

Jared walked up to Carson and grabbed him by his shirt collar. "I'm working on getting a shit load of money right now and if you know what's good for you, you won't interfere in any way, got that? Just sit there and keep that crowd under control and none of those guys will die."

Carson just nodded, moving to stand amongst the frightened crowd. He studied the members of Nsync, trying to interpret the situation. They looked shaken up but not hurt. How could this have gone on without him knowing. When Nsync was late coming on the show, one of their PR persons had informed him to keep going, and that they were making TRL into a two hour special. Carson suddenly felt stupid for believing it.

"Are these on?" Jared barked and waved at the camera he was standing in front of. Another gunman was focusing the camera, then nodded. "Okay kiddies, listen up. Call your parents in here, this is important. Scream if you like Nsync!" Jared paused, smiling, although the crowd behind him remained dead silent. "Now that I have your attention, I'd like to make an announcement. The five members of Nsync are now my hostages. That's right, I have a gun and it's pointed at your precious Justin Timberlake. If you want to see them alive again, I will need one hundred million dollars and a helicopter out of this place, compliments of Jive Records. No negotiation and no one will be released until these things are in my possession. So take a good look at you dancing teen idols while they're still breathing." Jared paused and smiled. "Thanks for watching this episode of TRL, tune in again tomorrow!"

The red light went out and Justin looked at his friends. His gaze went back to the huge man sporting a huge gun, which was aimed right at his chest. Being the ignorant one, he dared to speak out despite the danger. "Um, excuse me Mr. Gun Man, sir."

Jared whipped around and growled, "What?"

"Um, is there a time limit on this demand of yours?"

"Did I specify one?" Jared snapped.

"No, but-"

"Shut the HELL up!" Jared yelled, flying at Justin and pushing his gun in the young man's throat. The girls in the audience screamed, startling the other gunmen. J.C. stepped forward to help Justin but was grabbed by Lance and Joey. The gunmen immediately stepped forward, guns aimed. The crowd broke out into frenzy, screaming and running for the door. Jared and his men were startled, and broke their concentration for a moment as girls rushed past, bumping them and pushing for the door. "EVERYBODY FREEZE!" Jared yelled, firing his gun at the ceiling.

When the screams died down, the screaming of sirens could be heard echoing off the buildings outside. "Okay, everyone happy? Feel 'safe' now?"

One of Jared's accomplices stepped up beside him. "Uh sir, what about the people that escaped?"

"Leave them. They can't get outside. I got men everywhere."

Joey nudged Lance and whispered, "Where's Chris?"

Jared froze, mid-sentence. "What was that?"

Joey stood up straighter and looked timid. "Nothing."

A gun was pressed hard into Joey's chest. "Where the hell did he go?"

"I don't know, I swear."

"DAMNIT!" Jared cursed. "Fuck that little bastard!" He turned to the man nearest him and ordered, "Find him now. Check the vents. Shoot if you have to, I've made my demands. Just bring his body to me."

The others searched each other's faces, silently sending each other support and prayers. Chris would be okay. He was always sneaking up on them, even after living together for five years. Chris was agile as hell, and sneaky.

They just prayed for his safe return, and for him to keep a level head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Damnit to the bloody depths of hell," Chris muttered, wincing every time his knees hit the tin floor of the vent. "This day can't possibly get ANY worse. Why did I even wake up? I should have known the minute I tripped over my boxers. And here I am crawling through the vents like a girl. God I suck."

Below him, a group of girls ran down the hall, going in the opposite direction. "Well, I must be getting close," Chris said, then ran into a wall. "Damnit." He turned the corner and watched the hallway below through the tiny slits in the vent. Some of his spirit returning, Chris began softly humming Double O Seven's theme song as he went from room to room with out using the doors. He'd definitely need about six Ibuprofen after this. Maybe it was time to fess up to himself that he was indeed thirty and not a teenager anymore. But hey, he'd be sleeping good tonight.

Below him, a few lamps, casting light shadows against the wall lighted the room. Chris lay down on the vent, pressing his face to the thin angled bars. In one corner of the room, lined up against the wall, were his four friends. They were now bound, hands behind their backs, and they looked frightened. Wide eyes looked straight ahead; Chris guessed the masked gunman was guarding the door again.

Joey looked up suddenly, looking straight at Chris. Could he see him? Chris ducked, not sure if he had made a noise or if Joey had just adapted a sixth sense and could feel his presence. Either way, Chris had stopped breathing and remained still.

Joey looked away, his gaze going straight ahead again. He glanced back at Chris momentarily, the sighed and looked away again. Chris wished he could let them know he was there, but it wasn't possible without also alerting their captor. 'Don't worry guys, I'll get you out,' he thought, willing his assurance to his friends.

"Time to get this rescue mission under way," Chris whispered to himself as he began crawling forward.

The airway groaned as Chris set down a sore knee. "Oh shit," Chris breathed, freezing. He closed his eyes, praying to God that no one heard him. His heart raced.

"What was that?" Chris could no long see down the vent, but he knew what was happening. He listened to the gunman demand to know 'what that noise was'.

Chris took a deep breath and hauled ass. The vents creaked and groaned terribly under his weight and he crawled as fast as he could but a gunshot sounded and suddenly there was a terrible flash of fire in his thigh, but Chris kept crawling as fast as he could, feeling a hot wetness drip down his leg, and made it a few more meters before the pain clouded his mind and unconsciousness forced his eyes closed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"No!"

The gun went off before Justin and the others could steady themselves with bound hands. They cringed and watched the vent, hearing jean-clad knees shuffle, sneakers bouncing, and hands slapping the tin as Chris continued on down the vent and into the room next door.

"Damnit!" Jared cursed. "Oh well, next time, huh?" He grinned evilly at his hostages before pointing his gun at them. "Sit down!"

And sit they did, with anger, hurt, and worries blazing in their eyes. Lance glanced up to the ceiling, then elbowed J.C., who was on his left. "Look," Lance whispered, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

J.C. looked up, as did the others, and saw the few spots of blood forming in the corner where the wall and the ceiling connected. "Shit, he got him," J.C. muttered.

"You think he's okay?" Justin whispered.

"He'll make it. He kept going," Joey said.

"But for how long?" J.C. said.

Lance nudged him. "Don't talk like that. He'll be okay; we'll get through this. Just have faith."

The four fell silent and sat in worry, waiting for what would happen next.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chris opened his eyes slowly, looking around the darkness. The pain in his leg immediately flared his mind, bringing back the memories of earlier. Darkness surrounded him, suffocating him. Chris pushed himself to his elbows, then to his knees, and then he sat against the wall. He tenderly felt the wound on his leg, feeling a warm wetness. Blood, he knew, before he could even smell it.

"Okay, minor setback," Chris sighed. The pain was dulling. That was good too because he would have to press on, bleeding or not. His friends needed him. Everyone in the building needed him. But most importantly, his friends needed him. Chris felt the hole in his jeans, then ran his fingers over the damp, thickly wet jeans to the backside, finding another hole. "At least it went all the way through," he sighed, slightly relieved at not having to deal with a bullet in his leg. "Now to find a way out of here."

Chris began crawling forward, wincing slightly with each step. He needed to get to the roof. That way he could signal for help, and the police could end this real fast and simple. He hoped.

Spotting a few rays of florescent light shooting through the vent cover, Chris pulled the cover off and dropped down, crumpling to the floor. The impact sent sparks of pain from his leg to his chest. Chris was left wishing he hadn't been so stupid. Again.

With an irritated grunt, Chris got to his feet and started down the deserted hallway. Today was supposed to be just like any other day. They were to do TRL and then have the day off. He and Lance were to go to the movies tonight. Chris didn't even know what time it was now. They probably missed their invitation to the premiere though.

These guys were serious, Chris knew. And if any of them didn't know before a bullet went through his leg, they knew now. Hopefully the others would not do anything stupid now. He'd told them time and time again that he would give his life for each of them and today he might have the chance to prove it. Not that he had a death wish, he thought as he crept along the hallway, but that he wouldn't be able to live knowing that he hadn't done all he could to keep his friends from harm. He was just that kind of guy.

But Chris wasn't the solitary kind of guy. He soon began whispering random thoughts, whatever came to mind. Mostly he was wondering to himself how to find the roof of this enormous building. So after fifteen minutes of walking and rambling, who could really blame Chris for letting out a shriek of excitement?

Certainly not the gunman who was standing nearby in the shadows. "Freeze," growled the muscular masked man. He leveled the barrel of a gun at the short singer.

Chris put his hands in the air and froze.

The man walked towards Chris with heavy footsteps. "I should shoot you right now you little perverted wanna be sex god."

Chris raised his eyebrow at the perverted part but kept still. He didn't want a matching bullet hole in his back.

"But I think that killing you in front of your friends will be so much more captivating. You're mine you sick old bastard. Come on."

Strong, hot hands gripped Chris's left wrist and then the other one, holding them together and then Chris was shoved forward back towards the building. 'What do I do, What do I do?' Chris ran over the thought in his mind, then backed up and ran over it again. He pounded the poor ratty, fur covered thought into the pavement in the front of his mind until it finally had enough and sprung up, biting him in the ass.

"Wait!" Chris yelled suddenly.

"What?" the gunman asked, mostly only because the shorter man's eruption had startled him.

"I uh...I lost my contact," Chris blurted, blinking furiously and keeping his head down.

"Tough. Keep moving."

"No, please, just help me. I can't see..." Chris watched as the man turned, listened as he sighed a sigh of resentment. And the second he felt the hands let go of his wrists, Chris balled a fist and nailed the man in the stomach so hard that Justin would have been proud. The guy doubled over, gasping and wheezing, and Chris made a run for it. He heard the furious shouts echo behind him. Chris was spurred on by fear and he ran as fast as his legs would carry him, the cool air and mist whipping around his body, his leg aching with every footfall. He ducked behind a large vent cover just as a gunshot rang out.

Screams filled the air from the streets below. Chris almost forgot where he was. It was hard to imagine that he was fighting for his life while just a few stories below, hundreds of teens and pre-teens packed the street in hoped of a glimpse of one of them. How ironic life was sometimes.

Another shot rang out and Chris ducked. The shot rang in the vent, echoing like a bad pop song. He looked around, seeing nothing but tan cement, other vent covers, and the short wall that made up the edge of the roof. A thick wetness was running down Chris's leg and he knew that if he kept this up, he wouldn't make it. This had to end, fast.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What was that?" Justin asked.

"Probably the end of your friend's life," Jared sneered. "Are you getting ready for the end of yours?"

"No..." Justin whispered, leaning against J.C.

"He's not dead," Joey said firmly. "Your 'men' have such bad aim they probably shot themselves."

"Do you think you're funny?" Jared snapped. He pressed his gun against Joey's throat and shook the handful of hair attached to Joey's head. "I'll show you funny!"

"Okay, okay," Joey pleaded, closing his eyes as he winced. "Back off, please."

Jared glared at the frightened man a little longer than shoved back in the lap of his blonde friend. Nothing was working out. He had planned for months, but never had he taken into account that one of his captives would elude each of his men. So as he sat and waited impatiently, he wondered what was going on in the rest of the building. And he wondered where his ransom money was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chris was not looking forward to this. He was God knows how many stories up, and his only means of escape was to make his way down the outside of the building in the dolly that the window washers had been occupying earlier.

Chris cringed as a third gunshot rang out and he shrank into himself further. It was now or never. He had to make a run for it or else sit here and wait for this insane gunman to pick him off and he would die like a coward, curled up and lying in a puddle of his own blood.

He shook his head to clear the image. 'On the count of three,' Chris told himself, building up his confidence. 'One, two, two and a half, three,' Chris was up and running before the rest of his body knew what was happening. His limbs struggled to keep up and the oncoming bullets easily missed his awkward, limping run. Chris threw himself over the edge of the building, leaving his heart behind to look on with puppy eyes from the ledge, begging Chris to return to the safety of the solid cement. The six-foot long platform shook with the impact of the compact body landing on top if it. Chris grabbed the railing to stop his roll and stopped face down, looking at the teen-packed street hundreds of feet below.

"Oh my God," Chris said soundlessly, frozen in place. The wind blew through his hair and the wooden apparatus swayed slightly against the building. Chris's white knuckles refused to leave the cool metal railing that surrounded him. People were noticing him now, and more and more index fingers were being pointed in his direction. Someone would save him right? His body was frozen, locked, and he couldn't move for fear of plunging to his death into the sea of people and sidewalk below.

"What's the matter, pussy boy? Scared of heights?" An evil laugh escaped the gunman, who loomed a few feet above the immobile Chris. "Fine by me, no more running. Hope you enjoy your last view."

Chris closed his eyes and prepared for his thirty-year-old life to end. He was sorry, not at the shortness of his life, but that he had let his friends down. All this running for nothing. He could have been sitting with them, sharing their fear and doing his best to lessen it, like always. Instead, he would die, face down on a pulley-powered elevator.

Suddenly, the ropes broke. Chris's eyes flew open as the sidewalk came rushing up to meet him. He screamed, and didn't even know he was screaming; only heard the echoing in the cool air. The ropes that once held him from his death were gone, and there was nothing holding him back. Chris was free falling down the side of the MTV building.

~~~~~~~~

"We can't just sit here."

"What do you want us to do Justin? Do you have some brilliant plan that will let us all escape without getting killed in the process?"

Justin fell silent and looked at J.C. with hurt blue puppy eyes. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Lance leaned back against the large window that over looked the crowded street below. "J.C., relax. He's just scared. We're all scared."

J.C. sighed and nodded. He put a hand on Justin's knee in apology. "We're gonna get through this, okay? Johnny won't let us down. He'll give in to the demands and we'll all be watching TV by midnight, laughing at this."

"All of us?" Justin questioned.

Lance heard something. He looked out the window.

"All of us," J.C. replied. "Chris is probably already outside, getting help-"

"AHHHHH..."

The four singers and their captor looked out in window just as a blur of wood and clothes and metal and flesh plunged downward.

They slowly looked at each other in questionable silence.

~~~~~~~~~~

Chris gulped for breath for the third time on his fall and began screaming again. He imagined parts of his lungs were trailing after him, fluttering to the ground like scraps of paper on a deserted roadside.

Then, as quickly as he started, he stopped. Chris was jerked to a halt. His face and other precious body parts slammed into the wood, falling no more. His heart continued racing, hammering furiously without so much as a glance back.

Was his luck turning around? Chris dared to move, to allow his aching knuckles to drop from their iron grip on the railing. Look, indentations in the shapes of fingers. Isn't that cool. Chris gasped and rose to his knees and palms. His elbows threatened to drop him. His leg was ready to fall off. He couldn't breath. He was turning white and he was filthy. And he was being shot at again.

Chris groaned and stood up, flattening himself against the window-, which was open. His luck really was turned around. "That's why they call me Lucky," Chris said to himself as he scrambled inside the building.

Chris walked through the building so numbly and shakily; he didn't know how he managed to find the tour bus that he was suddenly standing in front of. The doors were open. He should be so lucky. Chris climbed up and sat in the driver's seat. 'Wow,' he thought, 'Power trip.'

He grinned and looked around outside. He could get used to this. Siting up high, feeling like he could just run over any car that got in his way. But driving it would be a different story. Chris looked down and groaned inwardly. It was a stick shift. "This will work," Chris said to himself. "It can't be that hard. Hell, if the bus driver can do it, I can too. I can do anything. I am invincible."

Chris turned the key and the bus roared to life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Come on. We're going on a trip." Jared yanked Justin to his feet and shoved the blonde to the door.

"Why?" Joey ventured.

"Because if they see for themselves how serious I am, I'll get my money faster. Now MOVE."

The guys shuffled towards the door. It was obvious that their captor was impatient. They supposed that was a good thing. Maybe if he got the money, they could keep their lives. Joey watched Justin. The youngest singer was taking the bulk of the blows because the masked gunman knew Justin was the most valuable. They all knew. Justin was the Golden Boy, whose net worth was more than Joey could imagine. And because of it, Justin was sporting a black eye and various other bruises scattered along his body.

They were led downstairs, Justin beside J.C., and Lance beside Joey. Then before anyone knew what happened, J.C. elbowed Jared hard in the guts. "Run!" he yelled, and had the others been expecting the burst of courage, they might have taken his advice.

Jared recovered quickly and returned the hit twice as hard with the butt of his gun. Justin ran forward, catching J.C. as he sank to the floor in pain. Joey and Lance stood there stupidly, too dumfounded to move. Jared's voice caught their attention.

"Try that again and I'll shoot you, I swear!" Jared yelled. "Now move!" He pushed Justin on, towards the glass front doors. All around them MTV employees watched, cringing on the floor in the same position they had been in all morning. They searched the Nsync members for hints on what was to come, but all they got in response were four empty, scared gazes.

Jared spun around. "You three against the wall!" he yelled, pointing at J.C., Lance and Joey. He kept a firm grip on Justin and once the others were where he had ordered, Jared pulled Justin to the doors by the back of his shirt. Jared kicked open the door and stood in the doorway. "For all you who think this is a game," he started, capturing the attention of all the bystanders, "This is real. This boy here will be dead if I don't get my ransom!" For emphasis, Jared fired the gun into the wall, making everyone scream. "The next bullet goes into his brain, I swear to God!"

"I'm starting to doubt God," Joey mumbled, tears of hopelessness stinging his eyes.

Then the screech of brakes pierced the air, preceding a big multi-colored bus. "What the-" Lance started. All of their eyes widened as their tour bus rounded the corner, taking off the rear view mirror of a parked car. Tires screeched and people scattered. The bus honked and shook as it straightened out, heading straight for the front doors of the MTV building.

"Who the hell is this joker?" Jared asked, his grip on Justin relaxing unconsciously.

Justin narrowed his eyes as the bus sped for the doors. "It's Chris!" he yelled, then his smile immediately faded when we realized Chris wasn't going to stop. "Run!" he yelled, pulling away from Jared at the last moment before the tour bus shattered the glass and plowed through the doors, for a second drowning out the screams of the building's occupants. Breaks screamed and glass crunched and smoke filled the air as the bus halted, stopping after Jared's head disappeared from view under the bus.

The hostages slowly rose and approached the unmoving, hissing bus. Smoke billowed out from under it, and a few shards of glass dropped onto the bus's metal roof. Justin, J.C., Joey and Lance all walked to the bus doors, fearing the worst.

The doors opened and they jumped. Chris sat hunched over the steering wheel; one leg saturated with blood and the rest of him looking like he had just ran a bus through a set of glass doors. He raised his head, and with a dazed, crooked grin announced, "All aboard."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Guys, be quiet, it's on!"

The five reunited Nsync members gathered around the hotel television. Chris, their temporary hero of the day, sat in a chair with his leg propped up. The others gathered around him, sitting on the floor or just standing behind him. It took them an hour to get out of the building after Chris rescued them. So many people wanted to find out what exactly had happened, and once they got through explaining the catastrophe to the police, the paramedics were next in line, giving each of them a once over. No one was seriously hurt, and Chris's leg required only a few stitches and a bottle of painkillers. Just being safe and with each other was the best medicine they could have gotten.

Then Fox began showing their edition of the six o'clock news. "And our top story tonight is a rather interesting one, one to grab the attention of a lot of teenage girls. This afternoon, a hostage situation took place involving the MTV building, a lot of guns, and five very popular young men."

"That's me," Justin beamed. He was hit with a pillow.

"Pop group Nsync had the ride of their lives tonight when the building went under siege by well known terrorist, Jared McNight. He took the group hostage and demanded a large sum of money along with a helicopter for escape. No one was seriously hurt during the crisis, and the hero turned out to be Nsync's very own Chris Kirkpatrick. The thirty year old-"

"Hey!"

"-Ended the situation by driving the group's tour bus into the building and accidentally hitting McNight. The terrorist is now dead, and the rest of his men are facing most of their lives in prison. The group's tour will go on as scheduled. Now on to other news…"

"Well congratulations," Joey smiled, patting Chris's good leg. "You did good old man."

"Go to hell."

"Ooh, looks like somebody's cranky. Time for you medicine grandpa?"

Chris glared at them through his eyelashes. "You all suck, you know that?"

Justin looked into his older friend's eyes. "Seriously though, thanks for saving us Chris. We owe ya."

"Damn right you do."

"What's that suppose to mean?"

Chris took a breath. "Well, lets see. You can start by giving my dog a bath. And use the good shampoo. He just rolled in a pile of crap. Then, you can give me the big bunk, and change the sheets before you do."

"Uh…"

"And my leg hurts, I need a keg of Mountain Dew. Good luck finding that. Oh and just go ahead and inject it straight into my veins. I'll also be needing a pedicure and a warm sponge bath…"

Finish

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