OK! My first Hairspray the MUSICAL fan fiction! Whoohoo! This story is slightly AU! I only own Nate….*Sighs and looks at Link for a long time,,,,Blink* Anyway! I also own some other characters. Enjoy the show!

"Bit late to be taking a ride, 'specially a boy your age." The cabbie glanced back at me. I kept my face hidden in the shadows.

"Yeah, well," I shrugged nonchalantly. I should have taken my car, but I thought that might look suspicious. The cabbie cleared his throat.

"So, Women's House of Detention?" he asked, I nodded, before looking up sharply.

"How did you…?"

"Kid," he chuckled. "Or should I call you Mr. Larkin?" He caught sight of my shocked face. "I follow the news. Also got two young daughters who idolize you. They're overweight, see, and seeing you with Miss. Turnblad gives them hope that handsome boys look beyond the surface." At this point, I leaned back, soaking in his words. It was amazing. People actually saw me for someone besides having a good voice and good looks. They saw me as a person…Tracy. Tracy brought that out in me. Tracy…

"Tracy!" I blurted, leaning forward.

"Alright, Mr. Larkin," the cabbie grinned. He shifted the cab into gear, and we were off. "Name's Nate, by the way." I felt it unnecessary to introduce myself, but I nodded.

"Link," I said. We rolled along the empty streets. Despite how collected I seemed on TV, I could really get fidgety. I had a habit of playing with things in my pockets. My hand closed around what seemed to be cool and cylinder-shaped. Ultra-Clutch. An embarrassed chuckle escaped me. Nate smiled at me, before turning his eyes to the road.

"Hey, Link?" Nate said suddenly.

"Hm?" I said, glancing out the window.

"Glad you came to your senses."

"You mean…Amber-wise?" I asked, smiling wryly. Nate nodded. I nodded as well.

"Well, all off for Women's House of Detention," Nate called, parking the cab.

"Nate, that's gotta be a good five blocks away!"

"You wanna get the girl?" My heart lurched. Did I ever! Oh, I'm coming, Trace! This time, I'm coming!

"But…"

"Wanna get caught? A cab driving up so late at night…ESPECIALLY after that riot…is suspicious."

"You've done this before, haven't you?" I teased, then sobered. "Nate, I can't thank you enough." I climbed out, handing him money.

"No thanks needed," Nate dismissed the money. I nodded and started to jog off. "Link!" I looked back. Nate leaned out the window and tossed me something. I caught it easily and opened my hand. A Zippo lighter gleamed in the moonlight.

"Oh….thanks…"

Nate grinned. "To light your way in dark times. Might come in handy, y'know?" I didn't know, but I nodded. "So…see ya."

"Bye, Nate," I said to the departing cab. Shrugging on my blue jacket, I turned toward WHoD. "Coming, Trace," I whispered. It was then that I heard the sounds of bells in my ears. Odd…I shook my head.

Oh, Trace. I'm risking my career to rescue someone who might not want to see me. I mean, I wouldn't want to see me either. I acted like such a jerk in the record shop. I knew I cared for you, but it wasn't until after I ran from the shop that I realized….I love you, Tracy Turnblad. I wanted to shout it from the rooftops, graffiti it in the boys room. You know the first person I told? Amber. Tracy, you would have loved to have seen her face! The only problem with her getting angry was she scuffed up my ring. I turned the ring in my pocket, thoughts pausing. To think I put some stupid career in front of someone as incredible as Tracy. A career that wasn't mine to begin with. I frowned, starting to walk. Amber. Always Amber. And me? A used plaything. I might as well have been a puppet on strings. But did Tracy see that? Maybe. All I saw was the love in her eyes when she looked at me, unlike Amber's look…a look of ownership. Tracy saw us as equals, EVERYONE as equals. My pace quickened. THAT was why she was in jail. Because she believed in something. In me. And I had let her down. I broke into a run. God, Tracy! If they hurt you in anyway…I'm coming! My blood pumped, eyes focused on the building. Then, there was a hitch in the plan.

Getting in.