Taylor rested her head against the door of Nick's truck as he drove. The afternoon had been exhausting for her, in several ways. Nick had brought her into the doctor's office, apologizing for not being able to stay with her. Taylor reassured him that it was fine, she understood that he had work to do, and she didn't want anyone to be around anyway while the doctor examined her. She promised him that she would call the studio as soon as she was finished with the appointment. He looked down at her, trying to determine if she was fine or not. She caught his appraisal, and told him that she was okay and ordered him to go back to the studio. He smiled sheepishly at her, leaned down for a quick kiss, then loped out of the waiting room. Taylor shook her head, then began flipping through the magazine while waiting for the doctor, trying to ignore the curious stares from the other people in the room.

An hour and a half later, Taylor decided that perhaps being stared at was a lot easier to deal with than the torture being inflicted upon her. The doctor had examined her, and determined that she needed to see an orthopedist. She was sent down to the basement – an appropriate place to keep "the torture chamber,"Taylor thought – and met with a young perky woman who claimed to be the orthopedist. Taylor detested perpetually perky people, and the fact that this woman was still smiling and encouraging Taylor while doing a muscle atrophy test only reinforced that belief.

Taylor was guided between two parallel bars, roughly waist high, and was helped out of the wheelchair. She stood there, bracing herself up on the bars, while the orthopedist pulled, pushed, twisted and turned her legs, trying to see if there was any damage done to the leg muscles from the weeks of nonuse. Taylor gritted her teeth and concentrated on staying upright, focusing on her arms and the bars rather than the incessant chatter of the orthopedist. Come on legs, one good kick and I'm sure she'll shut up. . . please, just work with me here, people! I can't take this anymore. . . she thought.

Just as her arms gave out, the doctor was finished with her examination. Breathing hard, Taylor allowed herself to be placed back into the chair, and taken back upstairs to the doctor's office. The good news was that her legs were in decent shape, and very little atrophy had occurred. The bad news was that she still had to endure physical therapy everyday for an hour at a time, and that the doctor honestly couldn't give her a timeframe of when she might regain the use of her legs.

Back in the waiting room, she asked the nurse if she could use the phone to call the studio. The nurse slid the phone across the counter, and listened as Taylor asked for Nick, then spoke to him about coming to get her. She hung up the phone and was about to thank the nurse, when the nurse asked her, "Did you just call Nick Carter?"

Hesitant, Taylor answered, "Yes."

"The Backstreet Boy, Nick Carter?"

"Um, yeah." The nurse got a dreamy look on her face.

"You're related to him?"

"No." The look left the nurse's face and was replaced with a frown.

"How do you know him?"

"We're friends," Taylor said shortly. She didn't like being interrogated like this, didn't want to have this conversation, but just wanted to wheel herself outside and wait for her ride.

The nurse gave Taylor a pitying once over look and then her tone turned condescending. "Aren't you a little old to be his. . .friend?" Taylor didn't miss the pause, the raised eyebrow, skeptical look or the implication the nurse made.

"I'm sorry, I'm new to Florida, I don't know the local laws all that well. Is there an age requirement for friendship in this state?" she asked archly. The nurse was taken aback, surprised that Taylor caught her attempt at subtlety.

"N. . .no," she stammered under Taylor's gaze. Taylor continued to glare at the woman, who was relieved when another patient came up to the desk to check in. She excused herself hurriedly, and left Taylor.

The black look never left Taylor's face as she turned the chair around abruptly, and wheeled herself out of the office and downstairs to wait outside for Nick. He noticed her expression when he pulled up in front of the medical center.

"Is everything all right? Did the doctor say when you'd be back to normal?" he asked as he lifted her out of the chair and into the passenger side of the truck. She didn't answer him as he folded the chair and stowed it in the back, then walked around the car and slid into the driver's seat.

As soon as the door closed, he asked again, "What happened?" Taylor briefly explained the doctor's visit, leaving out the conversation with the nurse. As she finished, she noticed that instead of returning to the studio as she expected, Nick was driving on the highway back to Tampa.

"Where are you going? Don't you still have work to do?"

"Nope, we finished early today. Kevin thought you might be exhausted after the doctor was through with you, and didn't want you waiting around while we worked. So we called it a day, and he told me to take you home."

Taylor raised an eyebrow, "Kevin told you to stop working? You're kidding? He actually said those words in reference to the five of you?"

"Yeah he did, although he also said he didn't want you playing with the mixing board again. He was afraid you might get restless and do something to our tape," Nick grinned.

"Ah hah! The truth comes out," she said lightly. "Kev now has something to worry about. Maybe I'll just edit him out of the song next time!" Nick laughed.

"Great, just give our fans something to complain about. You know there's a bunch of them convinced that we are conspiring as it is to keep Kevin from singing on the albums. Could you not give them more ammo, please?" Taylor just smiled up at him, then rested her forehead against the door once more, and closed her eyes.

"Hey! Don't fall asleep on me!"

"I'm not, I promise. It's just been a long afternoon."

"I can imagine. Are you hungry at all? Do you want to go somewhere for dinner?"

She opened her eyes again, "Yeah, I am a little bit hungry. Did you have something in mind?"

"You like seafood right?" She nodded, and Nick said, "Great! There's this little place I know that has fresh seafood, it's just incredible. Sound good to you?"

Taylor nodded again, so Nick drove them to this restaurant just north of Tampa, right on the Gulf. Taylor had a bemused look on her face as they followed the hostess out to the wooden deck to a table right near the railing. The dark green umbrella over the table fluttered gaily in the slight breeze.

After the waiter came by and took their orders, Taylor half-smiled and asked, "'Little place,' eh? Somehow this is not what I pictured when you talked about getting seafood. This is a little fancier than I expected." She looked down at her clothes, then over at Nick.

"I'm afraid to ask what you expected," said Nick.

"I don't know, but certainly nothing that screams 'take-a-date-and-have-a-nice-quiet-maybe-romantic-dinner,'" she said.

Nick leaned over and picked up her hand. "And does this place do that?"

"You know it does, Nickolas."

"Ooh, my full name," he chuckled, while she shook her head. "But is that such a bad thing, Taylor?"

"Not normally, but. . ."

"But what?" Nick had a very serious look on his face. "What's wrong?"

Taylor was silent for a while. Finally, she said softly, "Nick, you couldn't possibly want this kind of setting while you're with me."

"Why not? You know how I feel, I want to go out to nice places with you, and have you with me. Why don't you think I wouldn't want to take you out tonight?" Nick seemed hurt by her assumption. She moved her hand in his grasp, as if to reassure him.

"Nick, I'm sorry. I just meant that you wouldn't want to be seen with me while I'm stuck in this chair."

"I think it's more the other way around. Being in that chair bothers you, doesn't it?"

Taylor seemed startled by his perception. She shrugged, "Yeah, it does. People have been staring at me all day. At first, I thought maybe it wasn't me they were looking at, but you. But then I noticed I was getting sympathetic looks, like people feel sorry for me for being in this chair. I guess I'm a little self-conscious, that's all."

He lifted her hand and kissed it, "Don't be. You're not going to be in it for very long. Everything is going to work out, Taylor, I promise. You'll be able to get out of that wheelchair very soon, and I'll be with you when you do. We all will. You're not alone in this."

The look in his eyes was very earnest, and she was about to respond when the waiter came to their table with their meals. Taylor pulled her gaze away from Nick, took her hand back, and waited quietly as the plates were placed in front of them. The waiter left, and Taylor looked back up at Nick. The expression he had was no longer there, and they both recognized the moment had passed them by. Whatever Taylor had been about to say was lost as they smiled regretfully at each other. They both picked up forks, began eating, and turned the conversation to more mundane topics.

The drive home was short and quiet and Taylor was practically asleep as Nick pulled in the driveway. As he turned off the engine he leaned over and kissed her softly on the cheek in an attempt to rouse her.

"Sweetheart. . .we're home." As Taylor opened her eyes and leaned over to look at Nick, a sense of contentment swept over her as his small statement filtered through her consciousness. Home. With Nick, she truly felt at home. The realization brought her to the brink of tears, which in turn brought a concerned look from Nick.

"Hey. . .what's wrong baby?"

Taylor took a deep breath and then brought Nick's hand to her lips to lightly kiss his palm, then turned to rest her cheek lightly in his hand. "Nothing's wrong, absolutely nothing." Nick simply ran his thumb across her cheek, gave an understanding nod and climbed out of the truck, going around to help Taylor out.

Nick lifted her gently out of the seat and she wrapped her arms around his neck, breathing in his scent. He carried her into the house and carefully laid her on the sofa.

"Wait here, I'll be right back." She fell back into the cushions as an overwhelming urge to sleep came over her. Fighting it, she stretched as much as she could in an attempt to alleviate the stiffness in her back and hips.

Appearing in the doorway a few minutes later, Nick watched her sleepily moving around on the sofa. "I've got just the cure for those aches and pains," he said as he lifted her back up into his arms and carried her up to the master bathroom connected to his bedroom. A bath had been drawn, several candles were lit so that they were the only lights in the room, and the soothing scent of juniper berries filled the air.

She looked up at Nick and smiled as he perched her gingerly on the vanity. "How did you. . .?"

"I called Jamie earlier," Nick said chuckling, "and it's a good thing I did too. I was planning on getting vanilla."

Taylor made a sour face, "I hate vanilla."

"I know, that's what Jamie told me," he smiled.

Without any fanfare, Taylor allowed Nick to help her get undressed and into the soothing tub. There was nothing erotic about Nick's actions, just honest sincerity and love. She had been soaking for almost an hour when she called for Nick to come help her out of the bath. When he did, he brought her scented lotion, powder and a new satin gown.

"Mr. Carter, if I didn't know better I would say you're trying to seduce me," she said, raising an eyebrow.

Nick was a little shocked, then his expression melted into a mischievous one. "Nah, this isn't seduction, that'll come later," he smirked. Nick whispered into her ear as he lifted her up to carry her into the bedroom, "This is just me wanting you to be happy."

"Mmmmm, I think I can do that," she whispered back.

He took her into his bedroom and laid her in the middle of the bed. "Now that you're all relaxed from the bath, how about a massage?" Nick asked as he reached onto the nightstand and took a bottle from it. Taylor just sighed, nodded and closed her eyes. She heard the click of the bottle opening and soon more juniper berries filled her senses. She sighed to herself and wondered if there was any such thing as too much of a good thing.

He started at her feet, roughly rubbing the thick lotion into her skin. As his hands worked their magic across her skin, he watched her expression and wondered what was going through her mind. Slowly he worked his way up her legs, kneading the tension from her muscles and feeling her body relax little by little. Her ankles, her calves, the back of her thighs, no muscle went unattended.

Finally, he got up the nerve to break the silence. "Taylor?"

"Hmm?" She answered without opening her eyes.

"Can you feel this? I mean, can you feel me touching your legs?" The sadness crept into his voice before he could stop it.

She propped herself up onto her elbows and looked down at Nick as he sat with her legs sprawled across his lap, his hands running over them. He peered up at her through his long eyelashes and she felt her heart break as she realized again how much he truly cared about her and how bad he felt about her situation.

"Nickolas," she said softly, reaching for his hand, "I may not be able to feel you there," she pointed at her legs with her free hand, "but I can feel it all right here." She placed his hand over her heart, and Nick closed his eyes. He touched her face and she gently inhaled the soft scent of the lotion. Nick shifted her legs from his lap and moved so that he was lying beside her, his hand still caressing her face. His thumb gently traced the lines there, across her eyebrows, down her cheekbones, over the curve of her lips, under her chin.

"You know," he whispered, "I think tonight was our first real date."

Taylor lazily ran her fingers over his hand and wrist and smiled, "Yeah, I guess it was."

"Well, I'm not exactly a pro at this dating stuff," he continued, "but I think that I'm supposed to ask my date if I can kiss her goodnight."

"I think I remember hearing that's how it works," she replied.

"Ms. Brett, I must say that I have had a wonderful time tonight and I was hoping, that is, wondering, may I give you a good night kiss?"

"Yes Mr. Carter, you may."

And he did. The most tender kiss she could have ever imagined. And for the second straight night, Nick and Taylor fell asleep in each other's arms, feeling safe and peaceful in the one place they most wanted to be.