In chapter 1, I erroneously put in Thomas Mesereau's name as Thomas Massereau. Sorry for that blunder. :) Oh, and let's pretend that cellphones were already a staple back then. :)

BIG THANK YOU to SmoothLadyCriminal and phoenixazul for the reviews. and to NickiTine for recommending this story.

The smell of genuine leather greeted Claire as she pushed open the door to her flat. Since her twenty-third birthday, she's been staying in that penthouse flat her dad gave to her. It was thirty minutes away from Neverland, and Michael used to pop in once a week. On good days, they would watch movies and eat. But Michael being a worldwide superstar and Claire running her own fashion brand didn't really let them have much time for movie marathons, so they mostly just talk while Claire does her sketches and Michael writes his songs.

Wow, I'm home. Her footsteps were muffled by the exquisite taupe carpet as she made her way into her bedroom. As soon as she dropped her tan leather suitcase, she reached for her phone and dialed Michael's number. "Hey, Claire." Michael answered in bright tones. She could practically see him smiling.

"Hey, so mother's there?" she asked. She called Katherine as Mrs. Jackson the first time she met her. Michael told her she's the one who got him trick-or-treating and she was so glad, so she said any friend of her Michael may call her mother.

"Yeah, you wanna talk to her?"

"Nah. I'll have lots of time for that." Claire smiled, excitement lighting her eyes up. "What time should I go there?"

"I could just pick you up."

"Mike, remember my neighbor from downstairs, Donna James? I told you she's a designer, too, right? So, she's having a party to introduce her new line later. She blocked me as I entered the hall, asking where I've been and she wants me to come to her posh party. I tell you, that woman is as nosey as she is talented. Anyway, I think there are a lot of celebrities down there and the paparazzi. So, if you don't want to get eaten alive, stay there and wait for me."

"But you're invited! You should go have fun!" he teased, laughing.

"Oh, please. Her 'daahling! Where have you been? ' isn't convincing. Ugh." She mocked her rival designer perfectly. "What time shall I go there?"

"I'll have Sam pick you up."

"Michael, I can just go by-" she started.

"Sam. He's on his way. And you hit your head so I don't think you should be driving alone." His voice was firm, and Claire figured she didn't stand a chance.

"Fine. I'll see you, then." She grumbled in defeat.

"I love you." he said, still teasingly, but Claire knew he means it.

"I love you, too." She said, equally teasingly. "Bye." She put the receiver back down on its cradle.

Excitement surging through her veins, Claire stormed through her walk-in closet and stuffed five huge suitcases full of clothes, shoes, make-up, and all her essentials. When she's filled her tan leather suitcase, crème calfskin holdall wheelie, two patent leather suitcases –one in scarlet red, the other in lime green- full to the brim, she flung open her last leather suitcase, which was a gift of Michael's for her when they went on their first official boyfriend-girlfriend vacation to Paris. It was huge, in tasteful taupe. The zippers were custom-made; they were shaped like keys with hearts for heads, and faintly purple Swarovski crystals spelled out Claire on them. On the front of the creamy leather, an exquisite hand-painted rose in all shades of red, pink, and purple stood out, making that lovely suitcase close to Claire's –and Michael's- hearts. She stuffed it with a couple more boots and coats, sunglasses and lingerie. She did a double take on the suggestive French silk, deciding she'd better leave them in her closet. At last, she was done packing.

Just as she was hauling the last suitcase to the living room, the telephone rang.

"Hello?" She waited for Sam to answer.

"Hey, Claire. Sam called me about five minutes ago, his wife's doctor called, she's in labor. He asked permission to go to her after he takes you here, but I told him to go ahead to the hospital." Michael said in a rush.

"Oh. Well, I'll be on my way." Claire eyed her luggage with trepidation. Five huge suitcases, one skinny girl, eighteen freaking floors to conquer, not to mention getting them into my tiny Porsche... Oh God.

"No. I'll pick you up! Actually, I'm already downstairs." she could hear his smile. Claire listened in astonishment.

"But… Donna James's party! The paparazzi!" she wailed, slapping her forehead.

"Nothing more you could do about it. Shall I come up?" He shrugged.

"No, stay in your car. I'll be down in a minute. See ya." She plunked the phone down and struggled to push her suitcases through the door and into the spacious elevators, thankfully so.

On the sixteenth floor, Donna James walked in the lift. She eyed Claire and her luggage disbelievingly as she found a spot that wasn't already taken up by the bags. Claire couldn't help but giggle as Donna kept looking at the suitcase with the rose behind her huge brown sunglasses.

"I take it you're not coming to my party?" Donna asked stiffly, as though Claire just slapped her.

Shaking her head, Claire answered. "I'm afraid not, I have important matters to attend to. I'm so sorry. But thank you for inviting me."

Donna nodded and side- stepped Claire and her bags as they reached the ground floor, where Donna's party was going to be held at the ballroom. Her Louboutins made echoing noises as she walked ahead of Claire, who was lugging two of her suitcases beside a bellhop, who pulled the remaining three along. They were all walking towards the main doors, where a lot of press people were huddled together, their cameras flashing faster than lightning. Claire assumed they were all over Donna's celebrity guests, until she was close enough to hear the questions they were throwing.

"Hey, Jacko!" someone yelled. "You 'aven't answered me yet!"

Claire froze, stopping dead on her tracks. Sure enough, Michael came into view. He made his way in with the help of some guards. He strode towards her, looking a bit shaken but smiling widely anyway.

"I told you to stay in your car!" she squeaked, terrified.

"I would've, but they found out I was inside, so I figured I should just get in here." He was defensive, but still gentle. "C'mon, Claire. It's no big deal."

"Uhm, excuse me, Miss Denworth, Mr. Jackson," Kent Kiefer, the owner of place, interrupted in a businesslike, yet small voice. "If you wish to talk, why not come in the café, or anywhere but here in the hall. I assume you would want to stay out of their sight?" He gestured towards the paparazzi, whose noses were pressed on the glass, bulbs still flashing.

"Actually, we need to leave. We'd just go through the back." Michael piped in.

"Certainly," Kiefer said professionally. "I'll have your car driven there right away." He added, then turned to Claire. "Miss Denworth, it's seems like you'll be gone for quite a while." He said, eyeing her luggage curiously. "Shall we keep sending cleaning crew while you're out?"

"Yes, please. Thank you." she answered. As Kiefer walked them to the back door, Claire felt an uncomfortable twisting in her stomach. She was sure something wrong was going to happen, but what? Michael, on the other hand, was in high spirits. With a smile, he thought of Claire agreeing to stay in Neverland. Sure, she's been there a million times, but today was different, in a good way. It felt different, although he couldn't tell why… he just felt it.

They slipped into Michael's car unnoticed by the paparazzi. For a few minutes, Michael chattered happily about how he felt so good seeing his mother again. Claire nodded and smiled a little when he paused for her reaction. The smile was beautiful, of course, her thin, pink lips exposing two rows of pearly white teeth. But it was empty… her eyes looked sad and scared.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, peeling his eyes from her to look at the road. He waited, but cold silence answered him. Flummoxed, he looked at her, half-expecting her to be asleep. But she was wide awake, her blue grey eyes staring vacantly at the blurry scenery. A shrill beep came from her phone, which was in the glove compartment. As if she didn't hear a thing, she remained unmoving.

"Claire, what's wrong?" Michael asked again, pulling over. As the car came to a halt, Claire blinked, and then looked at Michael.

"Why are we stopping?" she asked, peering at the gasoline gauge to see if they ran out of gas. But it was full. She felt Michael's eyes on her, and she turned to look at him. His brown eyes were worried. "What's wrong?" Her voice was alarmed.

"You tell me." He reached for the glove compartment and fished for her phone. With a sigh, he placed it in her hands. "You didn't hear this?

Shaking her head, Claire saw a message from her father.

Claire, dear, I gave you a ring. I saw your airport pictures on TV. Why didn't you tell me you were coming today? How's ebony? – Dad

"Already?" Claire said stunned. They had just arrived this morning and the media is already over him. Distance DOES make the heart grow fonder, she thought sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"Already what?" Michael asked curiously.

"Dad said he saw our arrival photos on TV. Can you believe it?!" Claire rattled disgustedly.

"Honestly? Yep." He answered coolly.

Claire rolled her eyes, then went on to text her father that she's fine, and so is Michael. He began driving again but didn't bother talking this time. In e few more silent minutes, they were already in Neverland.

"Claire!" Katherine gave her a warm hug as soon as she got out of the car. Claire squeezed Katherine in her arms, quite surprised at how much she actually missed her.

"How's your head?" Katherine asked sympathetically, glancing up at Claire's bandage.

"It doesn't hurt much anymore." Claire smiled. "How are you, mother?"

"I'm fine dear." She answered, then looked around to make sure Michael wouldn't hear. "Quite worried for him, actually."

Claire only nodded, then suggested they proceed inside so she could tell her about their stay in Hawaii.

"It was so quiet and relaxing. You should go there sometime." Claire told an absorbed Katherine.

"Yes. Maybe I could use a little peace and quiet. I'm getting quite old, you know, and I think a little quiet would do me good." Katherine said, her voice tinged with the slightest hint of weariness.

"Old? Not at all, not at-" her voice trailed off as she saw Michael enter the room. "Hey, Mike. Are you going somewhere?"

"Yeah, I'm off to Westlake to talk with Quincy. I'll be back before sundown." He proceeded to kiss both women at the cheek. "And when I get back, we're going out for dinner."

The two women watched Michael leave, then Katherine turned to Claire. "Thank you, child. I heard from Janet how miserable he was before. But you brought back the happy, smiling Michael we all love."

"Michael! Great to see you back!" Quincy greeted, enveloping him in a bear hug.

"You too, Q." he said. "So what are we gonna talk about today?"

"Something you love, Mike." Quincy smiled. "Short films!"

Michael smiled as they settled down and got into business. Michael loved doing music videos –short films, he calls them- as much as making the songs themselves. He feels that people can see the music as much as they hear it. He's glad he made Thriller, because that short film broke MTV's racial barrier. And now that he's gonna be making short films again, he's just ecstatic.

"So we're making films for all of the tracks except 'Just Good Friends' and 'I Just Can't Stop Loving You'?" Quincy asked in a business-like manner.

"Yes, and 'Another Part of Me', since it's already part of Captain EO." He replied, obviously trying to keep his excitement bottled up. "When are we gonna start filming? And which song goes first?"

"Whoa, slow down there Mike. I already called Martin Scorsese for Bad, and he won't be available 'til next, next month. So I was thinking, we do The Way You Make Me Feel first because Joe Pytka can do it now. But we release it after Bad, because obviously Bad needs to go first." Quincy suggested.

"Okay, so when do we film it?" Michael asked eagerly.

"We're gonna start filming as soon as we get a cast, hopefully three weeks from now."

"I can't wait!" Michael said, smiling brightly.