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Platonic Benevolence	By : CrysMarie2oo5 Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Michael Jackson Views: 4447 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I don't know Michael Jackson, or any of the Jackson family or Will.I. Am from the Black Eyed Peas and make no money off this work.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
Chapter Thirteen ~ Like a Drug

~*~*~*~

We sprinted down the hallway, rushing to get to the elevator. I not used to running in pumps, my right root went out crookedly and I knew right then that I was going to fall. My right heel twisted underneath me and sure enough I fell to the floor. Oh fuck! Michael and Nadine passed me up but then stopped. Both turning to me as I tried to get up but a sharp pain radiated from my right ankle. Shit! No way… I tried to roll my ankle, it moved in a 360 but not without horrid pain traveling up my leg and registering with my brain.
“Are you okay? You didn’t break your ankle did you?”
“No I think I sprained it-” Suddenly I was off the ground, in Michael’s arms.
“No time to look at it now, we gotta move.” Michael said as he carried me into the elevator. Once inside Michael set me down and got on his hands and knees, pulling up my dress so that he could see my ankle. I leaned against the wall of the elevator for support as Michael took my foot out of my pump and began to feel the bones that made up my ankle.
“Well, I don’t feel anything broken…does it hurt when I do this?” Michael asked as he pushed on my foot so that the tip of my toe pointed to me. I shook my head.
“How about this?” He moved it in the opposite direction. No pain. I shook my head.
“Okay how about this?” He said, moving my foot to the side. A sharp pain ripped through my leg.
“Ow! Fucking sdon of a bitch!” I cursed through my clenched jaw, my nails raking against the carpet on the wall of the elevator. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that…”
“Hm…it’s just a sprain. I’ll massage your foot and hopefully you’ll be better when we get to the restaurant.” Michael said, as he placed my foot back into my pumps carefully.
“Where’d you learn that?” Nadine asked looking at Michael.
“Well, when I rehearse for my concerts, I usually work on my moves alone, and sometimes the occasional slip, trip or fall happens. So I taught myself basic first aid. So that I’m not calling the doctor to come in from Santa Barbara every time something minor like a sprain happens.” Michael said plainly looking at me. A small flush touched my cheeks. Nadine looked at me.
“Maybe you should teach yourself first aid Crys, you’re not the most coordinated person in the world…”
“Ha-ha Nadine, go jump off a cliff or something--ow!” I cried out as I stepped the wrong way on my foot. Michael looked at me apologetically. As if he was feeling sorry for me. The elevator stopped as the door opened. Michael lifted me up into his arms and walked out into the lobby. We got all kinds of stares from patrons in the lobby. I curled up into Michael’s chest and inhaled his scent. We made it out of the lobby without as much as a peep from anyone. Michael put me in the seat of the limo and climbed in behind me. Nadine climbed in after him she looked at the two of us, and rolled her eyes. Poor Nadine, the girl was probably feeling like a third wheel in this whole thing. I looked apologetically at her, and she gave a small smile, as if saying that I was forgiven. Was I?
Michael took my right leg and laid it across his lap as he took off my pump again and began to work on my ankle. His finger tips pressing gently into the tendons that had been stretched when my heels faltered. My first reaction was to jerk away, and I was almost successful, almost. Michael’s strong grip tightened around my foot, not allowing my foot to move an inch.
“This will be uncomfortable, I won’t lie…” Michael said his eyes meeting mine, I was still sitting up with my right leg in his lap, the other leg was folded underneath me. “Lay back, and no matter how much it hurts, focus on my voice and drift away. Okay?”
“How long do we have?” I asked as I moved my leg out from underneath me. I laid back and rested the lower half of my legs on Michael’s lap.
“About fifteen minutes…close your eyes now.” Michael said, in a soft whisper. I obeyed. Michael began singing what sounded like a lullaby. But when I heard the lyrics, it was enough to make me blush.
“Sweet lady…pretty lady…” Michael’s fingers began gently kneading my sprained tendons. I let out a hiss of pain. Michael began to sing louder. “My heart skips when you’re around…when you sigh it’s the sweetest sound…those pretty brown eyes…got me sensitized…” I then knew he was singing me about me. A small smile curved my lips. I wasn’t even in my body anymore. I was in some far off place in my imagination, imagining Michael’s lyrics in my eyes. Any pain I had felt at the beginning was gone now. My head began spinning, not from dizziness, but from the affect that Michael was having on me.
As he moved through his song, it ebbed and flowed so smoothly, my heart swelled and my spirit soared along with it. I felt like I was ready burst out my skin when Michael started to bring me down from my high. Moments later I was back on earth, then I was in the limo, laying down. I slowly opened my eyes to find Michael looking down at me with the biggest smile on his face.
“How was that?” He asked, looking at me.
“That was a trip…” I said simply. No, that was an out of body experience.
“Really?” Michael asked, his eyes meeting mine curiously.
“Michael I don’t know if you realize this, but you’re voice is like a drug. One of the most addicting drugs probably in human existence.” I said getting up and moving my ankle around. There was still pain, but a lot less than there was before. I felt confident that I could walk on it without much problem.
“Oh, how’s your ankle, I hope it’s better…”
“Yes, it is, thank you.” I was leaning forward and kissing Michael passionately on the lips. Michael returned the passion but I pulled away, remembering that Nadine was merely a couple of feet from us. To my surprise, she was laying on the seat, asleep. I giggled. Michael, with his forefinger, turned my chin to look at him.
“Now, where were we?”
“Um…right here…” I grinned, picking up where we had left off. Moments later, the limo stopped. Heated, Michael and I dislodged and I reached over and patted Nadine’s exposed leg. She woke up startled.
“Where are we?” She mumbled groggily.
“At the restaurant.” I said simply. The limo driver helped us ladies out of the car first and Michael followed. I put all of my weight on my sprained ankle to find no pain at all. Michael held his arms out and I took his right side, while Nadine took his left, remember what Miguel had said.
“Women of romantic interest always take the right side of the man’s arms while friends and confidants take the left. That way it doesn’t stir up controversy.”
We all walking side the restaurant. On of the lobby attendees took our jackets as we slipped them off. He hung them on some racks connected to the walls. He gave us little tags as to identify our jackets when we were done eating. Michael hung on to the red colored ticket.
“What’s that for?” I whispered into Michael’s ear.
“Well the meal will take about two hours from beginning to end, it’s impolite to put your jacket on the back of the chair so they have a special coat room.” Michael whispered back. We reached the counter where the Maitre D was. He looked at us.
“Ah! Mr. Jackson! You are late, but we have saved you a seat. Party of three, correct?” The man asked his eyes meeting Michael’s before they scanned Nadine and I.
“Correct.” Michael said, looking at Nadine and I from the corners of his eyes.
“Well, if you will come with me, I have a booth ready for you and your…guests.” The man said, scowling at the both of us. Michael noticed this, and gently put a hand on my now balled up fist.
“Relax…”
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” I whispered through clenched teeth.
“Later, right now is not the time.” Michael muttered under his breath. I nodded. I looked to my right and saw a familiar woman out of the corner of my eye. She had blonde hair and green eyes, and the way she was following us with her eyes was questionable. I turned my head back to the man as he led us to a booth that was separated with a thin wall of stained glass.
“Will this work, Mr. Jackson?” The maitre D asked, his eyes meeting Michael’s.
“Yes it will, but can I have a moment with you however?” Michael asked looking at the Maitre D. Michael excused himself and told us to go have a seat. We did so as Michael and the Maitre D disappeared.
“Did you see how that guy looked at us? Like we were from the freaking ghetto or something. I bet Michael noticed it too.” Nadine said, leaning toward me. I nodded.
“Yeah, he did, he’s probably talking to the guy about it now.” I said looking at Nadine. Michael was quick to come back as the red-faced Maitre D quickly walked back to his station. I looked at Michael.
“What did you say to him?” I asked, his my eyes meeting his.
“Just how it wasn’t polite to look at my guests like they were poor people in a five-star restaurant. He apologized for treating you like that.” Michael said looking at Nadine and I. We both nodded.
“What is up with us Crys? Do we just look poor to people or what?” I shrugged.
“I don’t know Nadine…I probably look like an outsider and that’s why people assume that we must be in a lower class than they are…” I said looking at Nadine. She nodded.
“Maybe…”
“Look guys, nobody’s going to give you crap while I am around okay? So can we drop this?”
“Okay then.”
“All right.” I said looking at Michael who wrapped his arm around my shoulders. The waitress came to our table with three menus and a crystal water pitcher. She poured water into all of our water goblets then she placed the menus in front of us. I remember something that Miguel said.
“Now what makes 5 star restaurants different from your mom and pop eateries besides the fancy china, is that the waitress waits and writes down your whole 5 course meal. So when she hands you your menu, you must decide quickly what your meal is. Choose wisely because you don’t want to pay 70-100 euros for something that you didn’t enjoy…”
Michael opened his menu, we followed his lead, since it was proper etiquette to follow the host of the meal. The menu was nine pages long, including two pages listing their wines and drinks.
“Yes I will have the…Greek Salad to start out with,” Michael said flipping to another page. “Then I will have the Butternut Squash Soup followed by the Brushetta, for the entrée I will have Chicken Parmigiana with a side of buttered asparagus and for dessert I will have a slice of French Silk pie.”
“What type of dressing would you like on your salad Mr. Jackson?” The waitress asked.
“Um…I guess the Greek Vinaigrette.” Michael said looking back at his menu for a quick second.
“What would like to drink?”
“Well how about we do this, I’ll take a bottle of your finest red and white wine, and I’ll get a bottle of sparkling cider for Nadine.” Michael said handing his menu back to the waitress who took it. I looked over the menu items knowing that I would have to go next.
“What would you like madam?” The waitress asked, looking at me.
“Um, I will take the Seven Greens Salad with Provolone cheese and ranch dressing, for the soup I’ll have the French Onion Soup…” I said as I turned the menu to look at the Appetizers and Entrée’s. “I’ll have the Shrimp Cocktail for the appetizer and a lobster tail for the entrée…”
“What side would you like with that madam?” The woman asked her eyes meeting mine.
“The…farm style green beans.” I said looking up at the woman. “Then for dessert I will have the Triple Chocolate Tiramisu.” I said closing the menu and handing it back to the waitress.
“And for you miss?” The waitress said, looking at Nadine.
“I’ll have the Seven Greens Salad with Cheddar cheese and ranch dressing. Then for the soup I’ll have the Chicken and Wild Rice soup, then for the appetizer, I’ll have the Spinach Bread Bowl, I’ll have the ground beef patty…”
“Would you like cheese and toppings to go with that?”
“Yes to the cheese, lettuce and onions…no tomatoes or pickles though.” I grinned at Nadine. For some reason I knew she was going to get a Cheeseburger.
“How about the side?”
“I’ll take the Parmesan Potato Wedges, and for dessert I’ll have the baby lava cakes.” Nadine said giving the waitress her menu.
“All right, well I will be right back out with your salads, and beverages.” The waitress said, leaving us to our own devices. Nadine turned to me.
“Crystal, you suck, I was gonna get the lobster tail!” Nadine said as she pouted.
“Oh Nadine, I’ll share with you, as long as you’ll give me some of your bread bowl.”
“Okay fine, deal.” Nadine said as she leaned back in her seat in defeat. She stuck her tongue out at me, and I reached into my water goblet and flicked a few ice cold droplets her direction. She cursed under her breath as we both laughed out loud.
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Platonic Benevolence