"Okay, Ramona…now I need you to take this medicine ball and lift it up over your head," the physical therapist said. He and Ramona were sitting in the middle of an open room, mirrors on the far walls and exercise equipment scattered all over the room.

Ramona had been working with this therapist for 2 weeks now. Her shoulder had locked up on her a couple of days after Michael took her to the doctor, so he insisted on making the first appointment himself. Ramona stayed true to her appointments. Michael only had the chance to come with her when they first met the therapist. Thankfully that therapist wasn't star struck.

Ramona had a very difficult time with the exercises. She couldn't move her left arm up over her head without causing so much pain it would cause her to go unconscious. In fact, she had blacked out a few times on her therapist. Luckily they've had a lot of experience with that. Ramona never complained much, but this pain was beginning to get to her. She kept her mouth shut most days, but when she got home, she vented Michael's ear off. She even told him at one point that she was convinced the therapist was trying to kill her. Michael thought she was being ridiculous, so he had decided to make an appearance at today's session. He stood where neither she, nor the therapist could see him watching.

Ramona struggled with the heavy ball and dropped it once she hit half way. "Ugh! This is impossible!" she grumbled.

"That's progress, Ramona. You're doing well. Try again," the therapist pushed her.

"Try again? Are you trying to make me black out again?" she asked.

"No, I just know how far muscles can stretch and I know how stubborn you are. I know you can do it. Come on, push that ball over your head," he said strongly.

Ramona eyed him. "You do know most of the muscles in my shoulder is scar tissue, don't you?"

"That's why you need to work harder on them. Stretch them out. Lift that ball. Pretend it's someone you hate…and that someone fears heights," he tested.

"I don't hate," she said simply. Michael smiled proudly at her. 'That's my girl,' he thought.

The therapist pressed harder. He knew she was dating Michael Jackson. That had to count for something. "Okay, pretend it's Lisa Marie," he said simply.

Ramona, whose eyes were closed trying to fight the pain in her shoulder, suddenly snapped open in shock. Did he really just say that? Michael cringed and sighed. There goes that proud moment.

"What did you say?" she asked.

"By your reactions, I'd say Lisa Marie is the perfect target. Great. Okay, now pretend the ball is her and you are lifting her up over a cliff…" he said.

Ramona couldn't believe her ears. She was utterly disgusted! She really didn't like Lisa, but she'd never cause any harm to her unless she was defending herself or Michael. This guy crossed the line. "How about I take this ball of yours and shove it up your…"

"Babygirl! Be nice!" Michael finally stepped in and interrupted.

Ramona gawked at him. "But Michael…"

Michael cocked his head to the side and folded his arms. She hated it when he gave her that look. She would rebel against any man that ever gave her that look…any man but Michael.

"Mr. Jackson," the therapist greeted him. "We were just finishing up…"

Ramona began to snap at him but Michael stepped in front of her as the therapist stood to his feet. "You are finishing up, actually." The therapist looked at him confused. "I understand you have your own work ethic on how to motivate your patients, but really, hate is the worst use for motivation; especially for Ramona. What you said was completely foul and unnecessary," he said sternly. He turned and helped Ramona to her feet and pulled her against him protectively before turning back to the man. "Thank you for your services, but they are no longer required. I'll pay for today's session, but we won't be back. Next time you should think about your approach when you're trying to motivate. Let's go, babygirl," he said as he pulled her alongside him. Ramona nodded and smirked at the therapist's shocked face as they left the office.

Once they got back to Neverland, Ramona watched Michael curiously. He finally turned and smiled at her. "You're not mad?" she asked.

"No, why would I be mad?" he asked with a chuckle.

Ramona shrugged. "You seemed kind of upset back there," she said carefully.

"I was upset with the way he treated you, yes."

Ramona giggled. "And here I thought I was the one in trouble."

"Well…" he said with his hand under his chin. "You shouldn't really threaten to shove medicine balls up a person's body…" he glanced back at her and once he saw she was holding her breath, he started cracking up.

"You know that's physically impossible, right?" she asked, still laughing.

"Not with the right tools, it isn't," he said. Ramona gasped and smacked his arm. He laughed even harder. "I'm sorry! You left that one open!"

"What am I gonna do with you, Jackson?" she sighed, fixing the collar of his shirt.

He smiled after catching his breath and slipped his arms around her waist. "I don't know, Ms. Greene. What do you want to do with me?" he raised his eyebrows up and down and Ramona smiled.

"I'll give you 3 guesses," she whispered. He smirked and kissed her, pulling her closer to his body. The kiss became heated and Michael grinned and picked her up bridal style, carrying her to his bedroom. He kicked the door shut behind him with his foot and he turned to let Ramona lock the door for him. He carried her up the small staircase and tossed her onto his sequin bed. Ramona nuzzled herself in and he raised a brow at her. "I never thought sequins would be comfortable," she winked.

"I will show you how comfortable it can be," he said in a seductive voice. He climbed on top of her and kissed her passionately, both losing articles of clothing little by little. Before long, they found themselves wrapped up together in that sequin blanket, clothes scattered all over the floor. Ramona sat in his lap facing him, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck and his arms around her waist, his hands gripping her butt guiding her movements on top of him.

"You're right," she moaned. "Very comfortable."

Michael moaned against her lips and bucked his hips into her. She threw her head back and he bit down softly on her neck as he came to his breaking point. Ramona dug her nails into the blanket so she wouldn't end up leaving marks on his back. He warned her about that last time they made love. She had left scratch marks on the back of both his arms and back and even the back of his neck. He didn't want to have to keep lying to Karen Faye and tell her Thriller got to rough, when it was really Ramona.

A couple of days later, Michael and Ramona were lounging on her couch when her phone rang. She stretched and jumped off the couch. Michael slapped her butt when she stood up. "Hey…watch it, Jackson," she smirked over her shoulder.

"I am watching it. It's mine, isn't it? And Jackson likey!" he said playfully. Ramona giggled and answered the phone, leaning in the kitchen doorway.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this Ramona Greene?" the voice asked.

"Yes it is. May I ask whose calling?" she asked.

"This is Dr. Carmichael. I have some news for you," he said.

"Oh, hold on, do you mind if I put you on speaker? Michael is here too," she said, walking back into the living room and plopping down in Michael's lap.

"No problem," he said.

She turned on the speaker phone and set it on the table in front of the couch and sat up. Michael sat up and pulled her back against his chest and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her bare shoulder. She was quite used to walking around in spaghetti strap shirts when he was around now that he knew her secret. "Okay, Dr. Go ahead."

"Alright. I have discussed your case with the other specialists and with careful consideration, we have concluded that surgery can be done with minimal damage. However we cannot promise you we can retrieve the bullet. To be honest, we won't know what we're dealing with until we get in there," he said honestly.

Ramona looked at Michael and he chewed on his lip. "What are the risks of this procedure?" he asked.

"As with any surgery there is a risk of blood clots, possible nerve damage. Again I can't really say until we actually get in there and see what we're working with," he said.

"How long is the recovery time after this surgery?" Michael asked again. Ramona smiled on the inside. She didn't know anything about medical stuff like he did.

"I would say about 2 to 3 weeks, depending on how you progress in rehab," he said.

Ramona groaned. "No more rehab."

"I'm sorry?" he asked. "Did you attend rehab since we last met?"

"Yes sir," she grumbled.

Michael kissed the side of her neck and made her tension melt. "We had a bad experience with her therapist. Don't get me wrong, she did great for the first 2 weeks, but our last visit was nothing short of unpleasant," Michael said, rubbing Ramona's bare arms soothingly.

"I'm sorry to hear that. I will put in a word for you guys and see that he is taken care of. However the rehab I am talking about will be in the hospital while we keep a close watch on you."

Ramona chewed on this for a moment. "May I choose the therapist this time?" she asked.

"If you wish," the doctor said. "Are you giving me the okay for the surgery then, Ms. Greene?" he asked.

She took a deep breath and looked to Michael for the answer. Michael winked at her and nudged her. She looked down and sighed and put her hands over her face. She was scared. "One moment, doc," Michael said.

"Of course," he said. Michael reached forward and put the call on hold.

"What's going through your mind, babe?" he asked, pulling her hands from her face.

"Is this really my only choice? I've never been under the knife before. What will this do to my dancing abilities?" she asked him as if he had all the answers. He was everything to her. All she had in her life was him and her girlfriends. In her world, Michael did have all the answers.

"It seems like the only logical choice. We need to get you back to normal, if that's what you are," he teased and she gave him a look. He smiled and kissed her. "I know telling you not to be scared doesn't own up to squat, but I have had my fair share of injuries in my lifetime, and I bounced back and never stopped dancing. If I can do it, so can you," he paused and let her think about that for a moment. "If it helps, I will be right next to you through it all," he whispered into her neck and she shivered.

"It helps a lot actually," she sighed as he kissed her neck. She closed her eyes and her toes curled when he continued his assault of open-mouthed kisses up and down her neck and shoulder. "Michael…" she moaned. He didn't stop. She bit her lip knowing the doctor was still on hold. She shoved him back in an instant and grabbed the phone. "Okay, surgery it is."

Michael grinned at her and pulled at her shirt as she spoke on the phone about setting up a time to come to the hospital for pre-op and the paperwork. She stood up and noticed Michael had gotten her shirt off and she was topless, and still on the phone. She raised a brow at him and trotted into the kitchen for a pen and paper to write down the dates and times. As she scribbled, Michael came up behind her and ran his hands up and down her body, grinding himself against her butt and panting low in her ear. She gripped the countertop trying to stay focused when he slipped his hand inside the front of her loose pants, his other hand toying with her chest.

"Okay, sounds great," she panted.

"Are you alright, Ms. Greene? You sound out of breath," the doctor asked.

"I'm fine, I think I need to go take a hot bath. Thanks for calling, doctor. Bye!" she said quickly and hung up. She slammed the phone down on the charger and turned in Michael's arms. He prepared himself to get yelled at, but instead she shoved him against the wall and started her own assault on him. She slid her hand down the front of his pants and gripped him. He groaned and kissed her passionately. They played with each other until he got fed up and ripped the remainder of their clothes off and threw her up on the kitchen counter. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he wasted no time pounding into her.

You would think after Michael telling her he wasn't a machine that he wouldn't be this…excited as often, but apparently not. Ramona hadn't been loved like this before and Michael hadn't felt like this at all with another woman. He had only been with a few, but he was never emotionally into it which made it only last a few minutes. With Ramona, his stamina and Mike Jr. had no problems going on for hours. Ramona didn't mind it herself. The pain in her shoulder never seemed to come to mind when she and Michael were connected in such a strong way.

This was what real unconditional love felt like. She felt sorry for all the girls out there who had no idea what this felt like or what it even was. She had to try to write about this in her story at some point. Maybe she could shed some light on those who don't even know what unconditional love is.

The next day, Michael had to go out to rehearse for a charity show he would be performing for right before Ramona was scheduled to have her surgery. In fact, she was to be admitted into the hospital that same night and have her surgery first thing the next morning. She was getting worried, to say the least.

"Ray…hey, snap out of it," Michael waved in front of her house.

She blinked and shook her head. "I'm sorry, what?"

Michael gave her a look. "I said I love you. I'll be back later on tonight, okay?" he touched her shoulder lightly and she tensed and then nodded.

"Right, okay. I love you too," she fiddled with the end of her shirt.

Michael sighed and pulled her tightly against him. "I know you're scared, baby. Everything will be alright. I'll be with you every step of the way, okay?" He looked down into her eyes and she looked away. Michael could tell she was trying not to cry. He tilted her chin up to look at him and her eyes glazed over. "Okay?" he asked again. She nodded and looked down again and Michael quirked a brow and then buried his face in the side of her neck, assaulting her with kisses and hot air and nipping her lightly with his teeth.

"Okay, okay stop!" she laughed and struggled in his hold. He finally backed away and smirked. "You win. I'm sorry. I haven't been feeling like myself since I haven't been able to dance…"

"And you won't until the doctor says it's okay," he interrupted her and she huffed. "I understand you feel on edge, believe me, I know the feeling. Dancing is in our blood. You just have to do what's best for yourself…" Ramona went to argue and he silenced her with a kiss. "Even though you prefer to torture yourself to please everyone else. Now I have to go. Behave yourself…for me?"

Ramona gave him a look and he widened his eyes and gave his lips a pucker, setting up for the perfect pout. Ramona kissed him, pushing him against the doorway, catching him off guard. He couldn't resist Ramona when she took charge like that. He almost lost himself in her lips until Derek blared the horn just outside. She pouted when he pulled away and he chuckled and pulled at her bottom lip. She smiled and hugged him. "You behave yourself too, tomcat. I love you."

He smiled and kissed her forehead, leaning his head against hers, looking deeply into her eyes. "I love you more."

As soon as he left with Derek, Ramona began pacing her house. Her shoulder was burning. She rubbed it tensely and tried to lay on the couch with her heating pad, but her feet wouldn't sit still. She grumbled and sat up, flipping on the television. She flipped through and found nothing so she left it on a random station as she stared out the back door watching the clouds roll by in the sky. Suddenly a commercial came on and as the music played, Ramona's feet began moving on their own and Ramona smiled. She stood up and flipped to the music channel and danced around a bit, feeling her pain slowly fade in her shoulder. It was so nice, but it wasn't enough. She didn't have enough room here.

She growled and shut the tv off before throwing on her jacket. Screw it, she thought. She jumped in her car and headed into town, not realizing Shawn had seen her leave from his post in Neverland. She pulled up in front of the studio with her duffle bag thrown over her shoulder. She strutted inside and threw her bag across the room, catching the attention of Tasha and her class. She shut off her sterio and glared at Ramona.

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing here?" she asked. Ramona shrugged and pulled off her jacket, revealing her dance clothes. The kids smiled brightly while Tasha turned an interesting shade of red. "I do hope you plan on watching the dance class dressed like this…"

"Tasha…turn on the music," she said with a smirk, stretching her limbs out.

Tasha growled and grabbed Ramona by her good arm and dragged her to the back. "Take 5 class," she yelled over her shoulder. She dragged her friend to the back and pushed her against the wall, careful not to hurt her. "Are you trying to kill yourself?"

"What are you talking about? It's just dancing…" Ramona argued.

"No it isn't just dancing for you, Ray. Come on, you have surgery in less than a week. You can't do this to yourself," she begged.

"Tasha, look…" she breathed. "I am in some kind of funk here, and I can't stand it anymore. Michael has had me cooped up in either my place or Neverland, not letting me move very often. Dancing is in my blood, just like it is in yours and his. I can't stay at home while he's out at rehearsals having one hell of a time, and you here teaching your class…I can't do it," Ramona winced, the pain shooting through her shoulder.

"See, right there…that's why we don't want you doing this to yourself. Michael is just trying to protect you from something he's experienced himself more than once. I haven't experienced it but I see the pain in your eyes. This can't be good for your shoulder…besides, Michael would kill us both if he found out."

"He doesn't have to," Ramona tested her and she frowned. "Hear me out," she held up her hands in defense. "I was at home earlier and my feet lost control when I heard a song on a commercial. A commercial, Tash! I can't ignore this. I danced a tiny bit in my house, quite difficult I might add, and the pain went numb. I can't feel the pain when I'm dancing. Please…" she begged, grabbing Tasha by the arm. "Please let me do this just one day. Give me one day of freedom, I'm begging you…"

Tasha groaned at the look on her face. "Michael isn't going to like this…"

Ramona's eyes lit up knowing she'd won. "Thank you!" she hugged her tightly and kissed her cheek and ran out to the studio.

Tasha rolled her eyes. "I am so dead," she grumbled as she hung her head and joined the rest of the class. "Alright class, Ramona is only back for today. Let's lend her our energy and have some fun. New song, AJ," she called to the side when a boy from the side of the group played with the stereo.

"New song?" Ramona asked.

Tasha took a stance. "You like Chris Brown, right?" she asked.

Ramona nodded as Chris Brown's Turn up the Music began to play. Ramona had never heard this song, but she liked it. The beat pulsated in her veins and the pain in her shoulder seemed to melt into her sweat, and dripped off of her body. She lost herself and kept going long after the class left for the night. Tasha stepped back and let her keep going. She would have stopped her, but her eyes were so lit up with joy, she didn't have the heart.

Suddenly, Michael burst through the door and Tasha stopped him before Ramona noticed him. "I know you're probably mad, but don't stop her."

Michael's face turned a shade of pink for a moment. "Don't stop her? She's…"

"She isn't in pain. Look at her face," she said, pausing to let Michael study her face as she danced her heart out. "Can't you see the joy in her eyes? I've been watching her for any signs of pain and there hasn't been one. Not one, I promise you," she said, hoping he'd listen.

Michael took a deep breath. "I can't blame her and yes, you're right," he paused, clenching and unclenching his fists. He was arguing with himself in his mind. He wanted Ramona to be happy and to keep dancing. He knew how happy it made him and he has been in her place before. He was told a while back he wasn't allowed to perform when he messed up a muscle in his leg. He didn't listen though, and he performed one of his favorite dance numbers in a chair. He almost smiled at the memory until he remembered just how much pain he was in after the show. He shook his head. "No…"

Michael stopped the music and Ramona jumped. "Mike…I um…" she panted, placing a hand over her heart. "I can explain…"

Michael smiled and walked over to her, kissing her softly. "No need to explain anything, sweetheart. I understand," he grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from her face delicately.

"You do?" she asked dumbfounded.

"Of course I do. I've been there, remember?" he asked. Ramona looked away and Tasha leaned against the wall with a smirk. "Let's get you home and washed up."

Ramona hesitated. "Can I have just one more dance?" she asked.

"Ramona, listen…I know you're not in pain now, but it will catch up to you when you stop moving around. Don't cause any more pain to yourself," he said softly.

Ramona sighed. "You won't let me have just one more dance?" she asked innocently and Michael shook his head. He turned to grab her jacket and she looked at him innocently. "Not even if I ask you to dance with me?"

Michael slowly turned and looked at her. "Sweetheart…"

"I miss you," she said quietly, her eyes glazing over. Suddenly Tasha decided to head out. She realized this wasn't an act Ramona was putting on just to get him to allow her to dance just a little more. There was more to it than that.

Michael smiled weakly at her and turned on a slow song for her. He pulled her against him and she smiled at him. "How can I resist a face like that?" he asked. She closed her eyes as he kissed her gently and swayed with her around the room for a few moments. After the song ended, Michael held Ramona against him. He didn't want to let her go. Without warning, the next song began to play. Keep it in the Closet. Ramona looked up at him with a hopeful smile and Michael grinned back. He was too caught up in the moment to pass this up. He threw off his jacket and pulled her tightly against him again, this time dancing very seductively against her.

They spun around the room together, bumping and grinding. Sweat soon dripped from their bodies and Michael panted. "Where's Tasha?" he asked.

"She left a while ago," Ramona panted.

"Is the door locked?" he asked.

He dipped Ramona down and she glanced at the door before he pulled her back up against him. "Yes," she breathed.

He nodded and danced her across the room, pinning her against the farthest wall. He rubbed himself against her and she moaned into his ear. His hands found their way to her pants and he slid them down with little effort. She had his pants pooled around his ankles rather quickly. Before she knew it, he had hitched her up against the wall. She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist and he slid Mike Jr. into her slowly. She arched her back and moaned as the music continued to play in the background.

An hour later, they were still going at it. Now on the floor, Ramona was riding Michael like a bull. She moved her body with the music and Michael was in a whole different world. He watched the sweat roll off of her toned skin and her hips rolled on top of his like a wave. He raised his hips forward and pushed himself deeper into her, causing her muscles to tighten up around him. They both came to their ends shortly after that.

Ramona rested her head on Michael's chest as they lay on the hardwood floors in puddles of their own sweat. "So…" she panted. "How was rehearsal?"

Michael chuckled. "Nothing like this."