FANtasies Fanfiction




THE SUN shone ever-so-brightly through the window as JC stood by it, wearing only a pair of jeans.

Heather laid in bed, quietly watching him.

"Are you alright, JC?" she whispered.

He spun around. He hadn't known she was awake. "I'm fine." he paused. "I'm sorry about last night."

She rolled her eyes. "JC..."

"No. I'm sorry, Heather. Not only did I risk your life, I also hit on you." he sighed.

"We're past the 'hitting-on' part, JC."

"Well, I tried to seduce you, then."

They remained quiet as they both recalled the incident of the night before.


Heather had awoken at three in the morning from a nightmare.

"He's going to kill me! He's going to kill me!" she yelled somewhat incoherently.

"Who?" he asked, holding her close to him.

"Chris." she whispered hoarsely.

"No, he's not."

"Yes, he is!"

"No, he's not, alright?!?" he growled roughly, shaking her shoulders somewhat violently. "I'm going to protect you, because I love you, dang it!"

"You love me?" she murmured, overcome with emotion.

"I'm sorry." He glanced down.

"I love you, too." she declared, crushing her lips to his. He was very surprised. She pressed her lips harder against his, and his hands ran down her back. Suddenly, his hands ran beneath the fabric of her pajama top, and found the creamy flesh beneath. She gasped, and he quickly removed his hands away from her, as well as his lips.

"I'm sorry, Heather." he whispered hoarsely.


"Don't be sorry, JC. It's my fault. I had a nightmare, and it woke you up." Heather said, getting up from the bed.

"It's not your, fault, Heather." JC whispered as she walked up behind him and pressed her cool cheek to his warm, bare back.

"Let's just forget it happened, JC." She delicately kissed the crease in his back between his shoulder-blades, and a shiver arched up his spine. "I love you." She added in a low whisper that made the small, short hairs on his back quiver.

"I love you, too." he murmured, quickly turning around and crushing her to him. The crystalline blue eyes pierced through her, as a knife would through an apple, and she sighed, loving the feeling of her hefty bosom against his tight, lean chest. He inhaled the scent of her dark, chocolate hair, then softly kissed her lips.


Justin smiled at the petite blond. She was French, of course, and giggled at him.

"But of course, J.R.! I would be delighted to have dinner with you this evening!" She smiled and ran her hand up his arm.

He smiled bigger and waved a piece of paper at her. "Now that I have your number, I'll call you later and set up a time and a place."

"Perfect." She smiled. "Now I must go, J.R. It has been wonderful. Goodbye." She kissed his cheek and slowly walked away.

"Goodbye, Mitzi." he said softly. He played with the drawstring of his shorts for a moment, and then, after she was completely gone, cried, "ALRIGHT, man! Lance was right. Those French girls can be talked into anything! Maybe now I can finally lose my virginity! I've waited long enough." Suddenly, he thought of Josh. "Poor Josh. Almost 28, and he still hasn't lost it. Poor guy. What's he waiting for? The right girl..." He scoffed. "...Or marriage?"


"JC... oh... you make me feel so good. Thank... oh... you." Heather closed her eyes shut as she sat in a corner of the room. JC was massaging her shoulders.

"You're welcome, dear." He grinned, softly kissing her shoulder blades. The strap of her tank top fell, and he pulled it back up. "Hey, a friend of mine lives here in Cannes, and is having a small party. We'd be safe. Would you like to go?"

"Boy, you sure do have a lot of friends here in France!" she exclaimed. "I'd love to."

"Wonderful." He paused. "Do you have a dress?"

She smiled. "I have just the thing."


Justin smiled a big smile as he laid out by the pool.

"Aww, yeah. This is the life, brotha. I love this freaking job." He unbuttoned the final button on his shirt, exposing his chest to whomever was around. "It couldn't get any better than this."


"It is done, sir." "Mitzi" said. The French accent was gone.

Chris laughed. "Good job, Britney."

"Yes, sir." The ditsy blond's accent was undeniably Southern.

"You are a wonderful accent, Miss Spears. And a wonderful friend." Chris laughed again, this time evilly. "Why'd you agree to this again?"

"I told you, sir. I used to date the man who claims to be 'J.R.' Timberlake. He's nothing more than a weaseling spy. Revenge is sweet." She smiled, then removed the blue contacts, revealing her chocolate-brown eyes.

"Ah, it is." He touched her hair. "Who knew that blue contacts, a perm, and a fake accent could trick an ex-boyfriend?" She laughed along with him then.

"That no-good spy will get his just deserves." she growled.

"Yes." he agreed. "And he'll tell me where your best friend is."


The woman sipped her champagne with a smug smile on her face. She had shoulder-length, layered brown hair with streaks of blond and dark brown eyes. She was an "old friend" of Josh's, and worked for the same spy agency that Lynn and Paul did. "Old friend" is what Josh called her, but she considered herself much more than that. They had dated for almost three years, off and on. But that had ended when he was almost 25, and she was almost 33. Now she was almost 36.

And as she watched the guests for her party arrive, she saw him coming in. With what she considered a little girl.


JC held tight to Heather's hand as they worked their way through the crowd to his ex-girlfriend.

"Bobbee?" he asked, and she beamed.

"Hello, JC." she said in a seductive tone.

"Bobbee Thomas, this is Heather... Thomas." JC suddenly noticed the eerie coincidence.

"Oh! We have the same last name!" Bobbee exclaimed.

Heather paused a moment, then gasped. "Oh my gosh! D-Did you have a brother named Harold?"

"Why, yes. Do you know him?" Bobbee asked.

"Not technically. He's my father. He left before I was born." Heather said.

JC's eyes widened. "So that makes you-" He pointed at Bobbee.

"Her aunt!" Bobbee cried enthusiastically. "Harold told me he had a daughter!"

JC nearly fainted as Heather and Bobbee heard.

"Where is my father?" Heather asked. "Do you know?"

"This is where he lived for five years." Bobbee sighed. "But he's been... gone... for two years now."

"What do you mean, 'gone'?"

"Heather, he mysteriously died."

"Oh my lord..." Heather gasped, a tear trickling from the corner of her eye. "I'm sorry. This is too much for me." She turned to JC. "Could you drive me back, darling?" He nodded, and she turned back to Bobbee. "I'm happy to meet you, Aunt Bobbee. Have a good night." She hugged the much older woman, then took JC's arm.

"Goodbye, JC! Goodbye, niece!" Bobbee cried.

As soon as they had left, Bobbee took out her cell-phone and dialed a number. "Yes. I just saw the girl. With a spy." she said bitterly.

Bobbee and JC had met through the agency, and when he had broken up with her almost three years before, she'd become a double agent... for whom, JC would later learn.


JC held and comforted Heather as best as he could as they sat on the bed of their hotel suite. She sobbed loudly into the shoulder of his tux jacket.

"He's gone, and I never knew him..."


She glanced up at JC. "I love you."

"I know." he said, holding her tightly.

A few minutes later, she got up to go to the bathroom to change for bed.

JC quickly used his cell-phone.


"Bass." Lance answered.

He was sitting in the office of the Jive Spy Agency.

"Chasez." Josh's voice said.

"Hello, Josh. Can I help you?" Lance asked, with a smile on his face.

"What do we know about a mysterious death in Cannes?" Josh asked.

Lance scoffed. "Which one? There's been, like, 20 in the past year!"

"This took place two years ago. Guy named Harold Thomas. Lived in a big, expensive house. He's Bobbee's brother, and Heather's father." Josh said.

"Oh. So Bobbee is Heather's aunt?" Lance was surprised. "Bobbee's no longer an agent here. That's why we changed our location and name. She was a double agent."

"WHAT?!?" Josh cried.

"Yes. She talked her brother into changing his will and leaving everything to her, and then hired Joey Fatone, your mission now, to kill him. He did, and in return, she had to be a double agent for them. I just discovered that a little while ago when I was going through my father's files." Lance sighed.

"Oh my god..." Josh whispered.


JC turned off his cell-phone and put it in his briefcase.

"JC...." A female voice whispered.

He looked up... and his jaw dropped.

Heather was standing before him, wearing a tied kimono.

JC breathed. "Heather..."


Justin and Mitzi were kissing outside his hotel room.

"Would you like to go inside?" he whispered.

"Oui-oui." she murmured, and he opened the door.

"Stand against the wall." she said, her French accent thick as she turned out the lights.

"Is this a new version of foreplay?" he wondered aloud.

"No." she whispered, turning on the light.

He was stunned to see her holding a gun.

"Mitzi?" He stared at her.

"I'm not 'Mitzi'." The Southern accent appeared. She popped the contacts out.

"BRITNEY?" Justin's eyes grew wide.

"Joey!" She called, and he, Rondol, and Men`ard came in.

They grabbed Justin roughly.

"Wait." Britney said. They stopped, and she spit in Justin's face. "Jackass."


"JC..." Heather breathed, her full chest rising and falling rapidly. "I love you."

"And I love you, darling. But what..." He let out a ragged breath as he looked down, desire and longing filling his heated loins.

The tie of the kimono loosened, and it slid down, over her shoulders, over her body, and onto the floor in a puddled heap around her bare feet.

He immediately glanced up, his eyes wide with shock, to find her young, soft body nude before him.

"Hea... Heather..." he stuttered, the fire in his lions increasing. It was hard to hold all his emotion in, but he stood his ground.

She stared up at him, her shy eyes playing with his heart. "JC... Make love to me."

Despite what his mind was telling him, he listened to his heart, soul, and body as he slowly placed a trembling hand to her face, pulling her towards him. He tenderly kissed her, then moved his hands to her waist, pulling her to him. She sighed into his mouth, reaching for the bowtie of his tux. It landed on the floor atop her kimono as the buttons moved open beneath her fingers. He slowly, cautiously kissed her neck. The shirt seemed to melt beneath her fingers as it fell onto the tie and kimono. He was wearing no undershirt, and she stared in awe at his bare chest, running a finger down the line in the middle of his chest. His shoulders shook and his entire body quivered from her light touch. It was like nothing he'd felt before. He pulled her hand to his lips and softly kissed it. He held her in his arms as he delicately kissed her, and then delicately laid her on the bed. He sat back a moment to take in her beauty, and suddenly the rest of his clothes seemed to disappear into the heap on the floor.

And then he took her into his arms and began to discover everything about her that he didn't already know; what he had never known about any woman. And he made love to her until the wee hours of the dawn, when she was tired and breathless, and could take no more of what he was giving her. She slept peacefully, within his arms, and so did he.