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This Time Around	By : Daisygirl1315 Category: Reality TV > American Idol/Pop Idol Views: 11904 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the people I am writing about in this fanfiction. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Four pain-filled days, two surgeries, and a removed thumbnail later, I was stumbling my way down the halls in the CBS studios, trying desperately to find makeup…or somewhere, anywhere, to sit down.

My head was spinning and I could hardly remember where I was, much less why I was there.

I should have let Dana help me, I thought to myself as I remembered her offer to helping me get ready for the show.

Instead, the stubbornness in me came out, and I refused her offer, determined to do it myself, despite the amount of pain medication I was on.

I winded around a few more corners until I recognized, with relief, the last door on the left.

When I walked in, Simon, Ryan, and Randy were inside. Their conversation was loud and boisterous and the sound echoed throughout the room.

I plopped down in the nearest chair with relief.

When I did they all noticed me…and the large blue sling that held my thumb above chest level.

Randy and Ryan’s eyes grew wide as they took in the sight of me and my injuries.

“I do NOT want to talk about it,” I said before they could ask.

“But..but,” Ryan protested.

“At least tell us what happened?” Randy persisted.

“That would be talking about it,” I said dryly.

The four of us then fell silent, each of them still staring at me expectantly.

“Fine,” I huffed. “I had a bad manicure. My thumb nail became infected and I had to have it removed.”

All three of them blinked, processing the fact that my arm was in a sling because of a manicure.

Simon was the first to speak.

“A manicure did THAT to you? Bloody hell, if you were ever really hurt, you’d be in a body cast!”

“And now you see why I didn’t want to talk about it,” I said slowly, glaring at him.

He held up his hands in defense, winking at me and flashing me a blindingly white smile.

I felt my resolve slipping as the edges of my mouth curved up and I shifted my gaze from his face, determined not to smile.

A stage hand burst into the room.

“Randy, wardrobe wants you, Ryan, time to flat iron your hair. Now.”

The both of them stood up, proceeding to the door.

“Feel better,” Ryan said, kissing my cheek. Randy echoed his sentiments and then they were gone.

Making his way over to where I was sitting, Simon knelt down in front of me, a sympathetic look crossing his face.

“Now, you know I have been with a lot of women,” he began, the timber of his voice soft and soothing, “but I do have to say this is the first time I’ve ever hospitalized my partner.”

He began to laugh before he continued.

“I guess I underestimated myself, huh?” he teased me, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my right ear.

I only stared back at him.

I was not amused.

“Why does everything always have to be about sex to you?” I snapped, my voice cold.

He paused, his expression softening.

“Paula, I’m sorry, I was only teas-“

“I know,” I snapped again, cutting him off.

My voice softened.

“I know,” I said again, almost apologetically.

I coughed, clearing my throat, and attempted to stand up.

Simon shot to his feet as well, standing with me.

I immediately got a head rush, faltering before I regained my balance.

He steadied me, wrapping his hands around my shoulders.

“Thanks,” I whispered, looking up at him.

He stared down at me and our eyes locked, neither of us blinking.

I cleared my throat again.

“Gotta go,” I said, my head still swimming. “See you at the judges table.”

“Sure you don’t need any help getting ready?”

“Positive,” I said as I turned on my heels and exited the room quickly.

~**~

As the show ended I headed quickly to my car, wanting to get home and lay down as fast as possible.

Having taken more medication when my thumb had begun throbbing unbearably, I was having an even harder time maneuvering than I did when I arrived.

Despite doctors orders, I was determined to drive myself home. I was never the type to ask someone for help and I wasn’t going to start now.

However, when I reached my car, Simon was propped against the driver’s door.

Arms crossed.

Smirking.

Classic Simon.

I held my keys, my car key clutched tightly between my left thumb and my forefinger.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked simply.

“Going home.”

“And how do you think you’re going to get there?” he asked.

“I’m gonna drive. Now move,” I said, using the lower half of my right side in an effort to push him away from the door.

“Over my dead body,” he said, reaching down to snatch the keys from my hand.

“That can be arranged,” I seethed. “Now give me my keys.”

“No,” he said, holding them high above my head and jangling them a bit, just to annoy me.

I jumped a few times, in unsuccessful attempts to retrieve them.

“Give me my keys!!” I exclaimed.

“No,” he laughed. “Doctors orders.”

“Bastard,” I said, slapping him on the arm with my good hand.

“Now get in my car. I’m taking you home,” he said, turning to open the passenger’s door for me.

“I’m not leaving my car here all night,” I protested.

“Of course not. It will be at your house in the morning. I’ve got it all arranged.”

“Fine,” I surrendered with a heavy sigh, moving past him to sit down in the seat.

“Good girl,” he said in an almost praising tone.

If I hadn’t been so out of it, his tone would have offended me…and I probably would have slapped him when he joined me on the driver’s side.

Instead I leaned my head back on the headrest and drifted to sleep.

I was awoken when I felt myself being lifted into someone’s arms, cradled against a strong chest.

“Mmm,” I mumbled softly, attempting to bring myself out of my reverie.

Simon carried me inside and upstairs, heading directly towards my room, where he laid me down softly on the large bed.

Tenderly, he removed my shoes and pushed my pant legs up, searching for the top of my knee highs.

The feel of his fingers lightly grazing my thighs as he removed the stockings immediately brought my libido to life.

Big time.

“Mmmm” I moaned, reaching for him blindly.

When I grasped his hand, I brought it to my mouth, taking in one finger at a time and sucking on it slowly.

“Paula,” he groaned softly.

“Simon,” I whispered.

“I can’t…” he protested as I reached around his neck and tugged him upwards so I could kiss him.

“Why?” I breathed.

“Dinner. Randy and I are meeting some woman for an interview…”

“Can’t you be a few minutes late?” I pleaded, opening my eyes as I brought his mouth to mine.

Our tongues met instantly, softly massaging and caressing.

“No,” he said as he pushed himself off of me and leaned down to kiss my forehead.

Before he left, he leaned down, whispering softly in my ear.

“Besides Paula, it’s not ALWAYS about sex to me.”
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This Time Around