Sleeping Snow Cinderella, the Belle of Wonderland
When her best friend and former sorority sister Emily Quartermaine told her that her new boyfriend was a prince, an absolute prince, Elizabeth Webber never would have dreamed she meant that literally. After all, real princes only existed in the time of fairy tales – except those two over in England, one with the tendencies for substance abuse and the other with the prematurely receding hairline. And they were all the way over there in England, so they obviously didn't count.
But as she stood in the grand ballroom at the Castle Wyndemere on Spoon Island, there was no doubt in her mind that Nikolas Stephanos Alexii Mikhailovic Cassidine was in fact Russian royalty. The military uniform he wore with the royal crest could have had something to do with that.
"Elizabeth!" Her best friend looked absolutely regal herself in a close-fitting white silk gown and her curls half-pinned up, but she ruined that image by squealing like a four-year-old. It didn't quite matter, because Elizabeth was squealing as well.
"Emily!" She didn't even care about the strange looks they received as they threw their arms around each other in the middle of the ballroom in full view of all the other elegant guests. The youngest Quartermaine was getting engaged to a prince tonight, and Elizabeth was her best friend, so as far as she was concerned they could do whatever the heck they wanted.
"It's been so long!"
"Too long," Emily agreed, clutching her hands and pulling her toward the Prince – tall, dark, and handsome, as all princes should be – who watched them with a bemused smile. "You should come to Port Charles more often."
"Work," Elizabeth shrugged lamely. "My clinic can't run itself otherwise, trust me, I'd be here so often you'd get sick of me."
"Not even possible," she asserted brightly, letting go of one of Elizabeth's hands in order to slip her hand into the crook of her intended's elbow. "Nikolas, this is Elizabeth."
If she expected snotty and disinterested treatment, Elizabeth was in for a surprise. The Prince smiled warmly and offered her his hand, brushing a kiss across the knuckles of her white gloves. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Elizabeth. Emily's told me so much about you that I feel as if I know you already."
Elizabeth smiled politely, a little thrown off when Nikolas snapped his fingers for a server that appeared with a martini glass filled almost to the brim with a pink concoction, and lined at the rim with sugar.
"Including your love of pomegranate martinis."
Emily grinned as she accepted her champagne flute from another server and handed Nikolas his brandy. Elizabeth, who didn't quite know what to say at the unexpected gesture of genuine warmth, blushed prettily and gaped rather stupidly at him.
Nikolas smirked and took a delicate sip of his brandy. "So Emily tells me you run a private practice in Boulder." At her nod he added, "What's your specialty?"
"Pediatrics," Elizabeth answered immediately. "It makes me the black sheep of my family, I'm sure – they're all surgeons, and I'm the one dealing with screaming children." She smiled and rolled her eyes. "But it's what I love to do. I've always loved kids."
And even Elizabeth wasn't out of sorts enough in this grand castle not to notice the way Nikolas reached for Emily's hand and gave it a discreet squeeze that made her best friend's lips curve into a bashful smile.
Ah, fairy tale love had indeed found the Prince and his Princess.
The young couple noticed her broad, somewhat smug smile and it was enough to shake them out of their love-stupor. "You should meet my nephew," Emily suggested abruptly, adding quickly, "he's just about the best kid I know. He's right over there with his brother Morgan. Michael. Michael!"
A little red-headed boy turned, looked around to see who was calling his name, then grinned and waved when he spotted his aunt.
"You invited children to your engagement party?" Elizabeth couldn't help but ask, mostly due to personal experiences. All the parties at the Webber house had been Adults Only, except the birthday parties. But sometimes those, too.
Emily and Nikolas nodded emphatically. "Oh, yeah, we both have young children in our extended families, and we wanted them to be here to celebrate with us. It was a pain child-proofing the main rooms at Wyndemere, though. We had to get rid of everything sharp and dangerous."
She swept her bangs out of her face and gestured toward the redheaded boy. "You saw Michael and Morgan – Michael is my nephew through AJ and Morgan is my former-sister-in-law's son with her husband. Lila Rae is over there with my sister Skye, and Dillon and Georgie are over there. They're not kids, just teenagers, but we still count them as kids just because they're both little and cute."
Nikolas used their linked hands to gesture to two dark-haired little girls sitting by the indoor water fountain. "Those are my third-cousin's daughters, Anya and Mikhaila. Their family made the trip here from the Grecian Isles. My distant nephews Ivan, Leo, and Vasily are over there on the stairs, and my cousin's daughters Molly and Kristina are over there with Michael and Morgan. Morgan is Kristina's half-brother, and Molly's cousin."
"Confusing," Elizabeth murmured, looking around the ballroom.
"Ugh, speaking of half-siblings," Emily grumbled, elbowing her fiancé in the gut in a decidedly un-Princess-like way. "The Queen of Trampsylvania just walked in."
Elizabeth turned around to see who earned Nikolas's sour frown to see a petite woman with dark, dark brown hair and a muddy complexion walk in through the grand doors. "Who's she?"
Nikolas sighed with the weight of the world – or a black sheep family member. "That would be my cousin's half-sister Samantha McCall. I can't believe the Cassidines muddied up their gene pool in that. If you forgive my saying so, of course."
"Of course," Elizabeth murmured back in the exact same tone, more to be a brat than to agree, although she did. There was one of those in every family. "What's her story?"
"She's a lying, backstabbing, money-grubbing whore that likes to pretend she can pass as high-society," Emily replied brightly, her smile growing when Sam spotted them and waved.
"I hate you," she got out through gritted teeth as she waved frenetically back. Her Prince took a sip of his brandy and pretended to miss seeing his half-cousin enter due to his interest in the pattern of the floor tiles.
"Gee, Em, what's with the sweetness and light?"
She rolled her eyes and didn't even stop to make sure that the woman in question was out of earshot. "She almost snared my brother Jason into a relationship and pretended that he was the father of her child when he wasn't. And then she spun some yarn about how he had to pretend the child was his because she was in danger."
Elizabeth's eyes widened. Oooh, intrigue. "So, what happened?"
Emily snorted. "Bitch was never even pregnant to begin with."
"And this was your brother Jason?"
Emily nodded, then stopped. "Oh, that's right, you've never met him. He was always out of the country whenever you came to visit. I'll have to introduce you two tonight."
Elizabeth and Nikolas both stared at her, their jaws slack, when Emily's eyes began to glitter. The Wicked Witch apparently had some sort of a plan formulating in her Wicked Witch Brain, and Elizabeth didn't like it.
"Emily Anne Bowen Quartermaine-"
"Soon-to-be-Cassidine," Nikolas interjected just as firmly.
"What are you thinking?" With her hands on her hips, Elizabeth knew she looked absolutely ridiculous, but she didn't quite care. "Whatever it is, stop it. Remember the last time you tried to set me up with one of your Port Charles friends?"
Emily rolled her eyes playfully. "Okay, so Lucky was a bad judgment call, I admit to that. But Jason's not, I swear. And I'm not planning anything. I just want you two to meet – I know you'll just love him. Everyone does."
"No one does," Nikolas whispered conspiratorially to Elizabeth, causing her to clamp her hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh.
His fiancé gave him an arch look. "The right people all love him. The idiots in town hate him."
"You're calling your own grandfather an idiot?"
"Grandfather doesn't hate Jason," Emily felt compelled to explain. "He hates Jason's choices. There's a big difference."
"Naturally," Nikolas agreed quickly, taking a gulp of his drink. "Hm. Good brandy."
"Look, all I ask is that you say hi to Jason. Talk to him for a few minutes. And if you think he's a bear, get out of there. No harm, no foul." Emily shrugged, trying her best to go for the nonchalant approach. "What do you think?"
Elizabeth rolled her eyes and set her glass down on a tray held by a nearby server. "Fine. But first, you're going to introduce me to the rest of your friends here."
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He was staring at her.
There was a handsome man right across the room from her, and he was staring at her.
Elizabeth tried her best to listen to Robin Scorpio as she prattled on about her new baby at home, she honestly did because Robin seemed like a lovely girl and was a doctor to boot, but she just couldn't. Not with that gorgeous specimen boring holes through her with those incredible eyes.
"I think Anna's a lovely name," she got out, sounding a little less sincere than she would have liked. She really did think Anna was a lovely name. "Anna Drake – has a nice ring to it."
Robin beamed and would have said something else, but a tall man with mussed dark hair saved Elizabeth from any further conversation. "Would you excuse us, Elizabeth?"
"Of course," she replied brightly as Robin's husband swept her onto the dance floor. "Have fun."
Time to go hunt down her mysterious stranger.
But when Elizabeth turned around, the man was nowhere to be seen. This was very unfortunate, because she had no idea what his name was and so she couldn't ask anyone if they had seen him. And she couldn't very well go ask her best friend who she had invited that was tall, blonde, blue-eyed, and an absolute Adonis – not when Emily was so set on matching her up with her brother Jason whats-his-face-something-or-other.
She crossed the ballroom quickly, bunching up her silk dress with the lace overlay in her hands so she wouldn't trip on it. Nothing quite too sexy about a woman that was a total klutz on heels. She lingered near where she had seen him standing last, then decided she might as well do some exploring. Emily would one day call Wyndemere her permanent home and she and Nikolas had even invited Elizabeth to spend the rest of her stay here rather than pay for a hotel room, so they wouldn't be mad if she ditched the party for a bit and went scavenger hunting.
The first room she poked her head into was a massive library. The second room she poked her head into was a massive library. And when the third room she poked her head into turned out to be a massive library, Elizabeth concluded that the whole damn thing was one library. One massive library.
She let herself in and quietly shut the door behind her. The room was exquisite. Two stories of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, all of them hardcover and embroidered with gold lettering. There was a winding staircase that led to the second floor, and little balconies and reading nooks just in case one already couldn't spend the whole day here and not realize it.
A massive desk by the windows caught her attention. It was just like the one her grandfather Steve Hardy owned. He had passed it down to her when he died, and it sat in her office back home. Elizabeth drew closer, admiring the Tiffany lamp that was placed on the corner of it. That must have been Emily's doing: she adored Tiffany lamps.
The etchings were just like hers, and Elizabeth trailed her fingers over them as she moved around to the back. She ran her hands under the edge, enjoying the smooth feeling of the wood before her fingers hit something sharp.
She gasped and drew her hand back to discover that she'd pricked her index finger. Elizabeth sucked on the wound and carefully reached for whatever it was that had pricked her. She found it and pulled it free, and found herself staring down at a glittering dagger.
She blinked once, twice, and again, before quickly replacing the weapon as if she'd never come across it in the first place. Apparently Emily and Nikolas hadn't done as good a job child-proofing Wyndemere as they thought.
Half an hour later, she still hadn't found her mysterious hunk. She always thought she caught glimpses of him through the crowd but then he vanished when she looked again, and Elizabeth couldn't figure it out. Why the mystery? Why the secrecy? And why did Nikolas and Emily have to have so many friends?
The ballroom was almost empty when she wandered back out again, and Elizabeth turned around when she thought she heard her name being called. Nikolas was standing by the staircase and, having spotted her, he hurried on over.
"Elizabeth, there you are, Emily and I have been looking for you."
She blushed lightly at having been caught missing. "Oh, yeah, sorry. I was just exploring a little."
He smiled at her inquisitive nature. "There will be plenty of time for exploring later, I promise you. But right now, it's time for dinner."
"Dinner?" she echoed. Maybe she'd see her mystery hunk there.
"Yes, dinner," Nikolas repeated, amused with her verbal stumble as he took her elbow and led her toward the dining room where Emily was giving their point man a few last…pointers. Funny how that worked out linguistically.
"When one hosts a dinner party, one generally feeds one's guests."
She laughed at his patronizing tone and swatted his arm, just because it felt like she could. Nikolas Cassidine had a way of putting all around him at ease, and Elizabeth couldn't have been happier for her best friend.
"Very well, your Highness, lead the way."
He grimaced at the remark. "Oh, please, don't call me that. I abhor such formalities. Really, I'm nothing more than a businessman with a title. And right now, this businessman has a proposition for you."
He swept the dining room doors open to reveal an endless table laid out with all the finest dishes and rarest delicacies Elizabeth had ever seen. There were towers of seafood platters, steaming roasts, elegantly arranged chicken dishes, and fresh vegetables and fruits lain out as far back as she could see. The centerpiece was elaborate and ornate, and the servers had set out small candelabras at every foot. She half expected the candlestick holders to break out in hospitable song.
In the end, it was Nikolas that took care of that as he gestured to the table. "Be our guest."
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Dinner was over, and Elizabeth was back to exploring. She searched the ballroom once and twice again for her handsome stranger, wondering if he were doing the same and that was why they kept missing each other. She couldn't explain what it was that drew her to him like this, but there was something about him that was absolutely magnetic, positively electric, and all she knew was that she had to search him out and find him.
He was the most exquisite man she'd ever seen. Of course, it was true that almost every man became at least 15 hotter in a handsome black tux, but this man was operating at a full 100 already, so the addition of a tux sent his hotness to near exponential levels. Ah, the math of pretty.
She thought she heard some noise in the library and decided to duck in there once more. And sure enough, there was actually someone there this time! A tall man with dark blonde hair – him! Maybe! – stood with his back toward her, and a shorter man with curly black hair stood offering his profile. They were speaking in low tones to a young man with floppy brown hair and a maroon beanie and a couple of taller men in plain black suits.
Realizing that she was in full view, Elizabeth ducked behind a pillar and pressed herself against the corner. She didn't want to interrupt whatever meeting they were conducting because it sure did look important, but she didn't want to leave at the risk of being seen. Nothing more embarrassing than that.
But as she pressed herself back further in the corner, glad that she at least couldn't make out any of what they were saying, Elizabeth felt the wall giving way. And then it gave way altogether and she felt herself falling, falling, through the darkness, into the rabbit hole.
Or one of those god-forsaken tunnels Emily was telling her about.
Yeah, that could be it.
---------------------------------
Women in heels and pretty dresses did not belong in dark tunnels.
This was the stunning conclusion Elizabeth arrived at 0.02 seconds after falling into the tunnel in the first place and watching in horror as the wall turned back around and sealed her in.
Left with no other alternative since she couldn't find a way to push the panel back, and since yelling "Open Sesame!" didn't do the trick, Elizabeth began to walk. She headed down the long tunnel, trying to keep her sense of direction in the darkness. The way she was heading, she had to be curving around the massive ballroom…still curving…still curving…still curving…damn it, just how big was that fricking ballroom?!
She could hear music now, which meant she was near the orchestra. That was a good sign. Since this tunnel was located on the main floor, most of the staff had to at least be aware of it. She had a very good chance of making it out. The tunnel turned sharply away, giving her no choice but to follow, and Elizabeth wasn't quite sure what part of the house she was skirting around now.
But presently she began to hear a commotion, and it grew louder and louder as she drew closer. Then the tunnel branched off into what looked like a dead end, but Elizabeth had a good feeling about it. She examined the wall carefully, moving her fingers over the stones that jutted out, and finally fumbled with what felt like a switch. She pushed it down and…voila!
She was standing in the kitchen.
The cooks barely looked up at her as they emptied the food into containers – even princes ate left-overs – and handed the pots off to the men washing the dishes. Apparently strangers came through this tunnel all the time.
And apparently handsome men did, too.
Her mysterious stranger was perched on one of the counters, taking a hearty bite out of a bulging sandwich. "Dinner wasn't enough for you?"
She blushed, more from being caught by surprise than anything else. "Uh…"
"I can never eat at these things, either," he admitted, taking another big bite and proceeding to talk with his mouth full. "It's why I always come back here afterwards and see if anyone will make me something."
Elizabeth smiled despite herself and took a tiny step into the kitchen, jumping slightly when the panel turned and closed behind her. The tunnels had been a lot cooler than this kitchen, which was absolutely sweltering, and she felt her light blush heat up. "You're very familiar with Wyndemere, then?"
He nodded. "Nikolas and I have been friends for a long time. I've been coming and going here for years. Know this place as well as I know my apartment – including that tunnel you just popped out of."
She looked away self-consciously, absently hoping that she wasn't starting to sweat in the presence of this magnificent specimen. "I see."
"What about you?" he asked, licking mustard out of the curve between his thumb and index finger and for reasons she couldn't explain, Elizabeth found that inexplicably hot. "How'd you get invited?"
"Emily," she answered immediately. "We were sorority sisters at Stanford during our undergrad career. She went on to law and I went on to med school. But we've been best friends ever since."
His eyes glittered with recognition. "Okay, so you're Elizabeth Webber."
She gaped stupidly at him. Really, she was doing that often tonight. "Yes, yes, I am. How did you know?"
He shrugged disinterestedly. "I just did. Nikolas was saying that they were expecting you from Colorado," he added when she gave him an arch look that let him know his half-answer wouldn't fly. A guy only got to be so mysterious, after all, before he was called on it.
"Yeah, I own a clinic there," Elizabeth answered. "What about you?"
"What about me, what?"
"Well, you know my name," she reminded him. "But I have no idea who you are."
"Oh. I'm-"
"Miss, excuse me, I splash water on your dress," the cook warned as he handed a large pot filled with scalding water to a washer. "You move this way, eh? Come, come. You hungry? I make you something to eat."
"I'm fine, really," she smiled as she was ushered closer to the counter where her hunk was sitting. "I'm just fine."
"You no want anything?" the man asked incredulously. "How about dessert? We have more tarts, yes, I think. You like coffee? Have some coffee. I make with chocolate and caramel and vanilla – all women like."
"I'm fine, really," Elizabeth laughed, unable to help herself. This cook reminded her so much of her own cook when she still lived with her parents. "Although…"
"Yes?" he asked expectantly.
"I do always have an apple after dinner."
"I get you apple," the cook answered with gusto. "Big red one – what you call? Red Delicious. Yes, we get you Red Delicious."
She could see her mysterious stranger's shoulders shaking with laughter as the cook turned around and plucked a large apple off a tray that a waiter brought in. Elizabeth was grateful for the swinging doors that brought with them a rush of cool air; it was very uncomfortably warm in the kitchen.
The cook shined the apple on his white coat and handed it to her proudly. "An apple for our Snow White, yes? You be careful in kitchen – get food on your white dress. That's no good."
Her fellow guest finished his sandwich and hopped off the counter, dusting the crumbs off his hands as Elizabeth accepted the apple. "Yeah, you probably should get out of here. It's crowded and it's getting warm."
Her eyes widened as he gave her a predatory once over, and when his eyes met hers again, they were glittering with something altogether different. "Meet me on the second floor balcony, right above the ballroom."
Not knowing what to say, Elizabeth did the only thing she could think to do and bit into her apple. It would give her a moment to gather her thoughts and come up with something to say in reply to his blatant suggestion.
And as her mind raced with the possibilities, her body began to hum. But before Elizabeth could realize that she was humming from something other than attraction, she felt herself grow light-headed. The apple slipped from her lax grip as she saw him lunge for her, and then everything slipped away.
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She woke in what had to be the largest bed ever made.
Really, it took up almost half the room, and could have fit at least four more Elizabeth's. She shook her head and looked around, trying to figure out where exactly she was. There was her large bed with the beautiful comforter color-coordinated to match the rest of the room. There was an ornate vanity by the wall and massive windows that opened out into the Port Charles night.
Oh, that's right, she was still at Wyndemere.
And now she was in a bedroom at Wyndemere.
There was a gentle knock at the door and a maid poked her head in, relieved to see that Elizabeth was awake.
"Oh, good," she sighed, entering with a silver tray bearing a pitcher of water and a crystal glass. "You're all right. We were a little worried about you, but I guess he was right."
Elizabeth's eyes fell on the tuxedo jacket that sat draped across the back of a wooden chair. "He? Who's he?"
"The gentleman that brought you up here," the maid answered as she poured a tall glass of water. "He said you passed out from the heat in the kitchen, so he brought you up here where it's cooler, away from all the people. He was hoping to stay until you woke, I think, but he was called away for a minute. Here, drink this."
Elizabeth accepted the water and gulped it down. "Thank you. Thank you, really, for all your trouble. I really appreciate it. I don't know what happened there."
Stupid Snow White complex.
"Well, to be fair, it was very warm in the kitchen," the maid replied. "It always is. The cook likes it sweltering. I don't know why, but I can't stand it there for more than ten minutes at a time. I've fainted once or twice, too. Nothing to be embarrassed about. Do you need me to help you up?"
She shook her head and pushed herself up, letting her feet dangle off the edge of the bed. "I'm fine, now, thank you. I think I'll sit here for a bit and then go out again."
The maid nodded. "All right. If you need anything, just ask."
Elizabeth smiled as the young woman left the room. She eyed her water and quickly gulped it down, shaking her head clear. She had fainted right away in front of her own Prince Charming, and he'd brought her up here in hopes she'd wake up.
How sweet. Emily's fairy tale romance might be rubbing off on her just a bit.
Feeling much better, Elizabeth set the glass down on the tray and stood, testing her weight before deciding she was fine. She paused by the vanity to fix her hair and adjust her neckline, and then headed out the door. Her Prince Charming had mentioned a balcony, and she might as well go see if she could be the light that broke through yonder window.
'Tis the east! And Juliet is…
Okay, she'd stop now.
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Just where the heck was this balcony? And why was her sense of direction so horrible?
Elizabeth grumbled under her breath as she readjusted her hold on her skirts and walked down the curving hallway, eyeing the guests in the ballroom below. She'd find that damn balcony if it killed her.
"Look, I don't know if this is such a good idea."
"Sonny, it's very simple. We have Spinelli run the surveillance. If Zacchara's stupid enough to make threats against Emily and Nikolas, I'll take care of him tonight."
"Look, I understand that you're upset about this," the same dark-haired man from earlier was saying. Elizabeth frowned and stopped, not wanting to move on any further if this was another important. She was just about to turn tail and leave when he said something she couldn't ignore.
"If someone was threatening to kidnap my sister, I'd be mad as hell, too. I know you're worried about Emily. But we have to be smart about this. Let Spinelli run surveillance. You and Nikolas post extra guards on Spoon Island. And if Zacchara makes a move, please, let someone else kill him. You just beat the rap when they saw you kill Alcazar – Jason, let someone else handle this."
Her sharp gasp had both men spinning around to find Elizabeth staring at them in horror. Jason? Jason as in Emily's brother Jason? Jason, who was worried that someone was after Emily? Jason, whose choices Edward hated? Jason, who had just beat murder charges?
Oh, dear God, did she know how to pick 'em.
"Elizabeth-"
She whirled around and walked quickly back in the direction she came from. And then somehow her quick walk turned into a trot, and her trot turned into a canter, and before long Elizabeth was barreling down the hallway toward the stairs so she could put as much distance between herself and the hitman as possible.
Dear Lord, how had she ever thought he was a prince? She knew nothing about him, and yet she had been making up all these crazy fantasies and telling herself all sorts of stupid things. Pediatricians had nothing to do with mobsters. NOTHING. She'd just let Emily's fairy tale love story turn her into a silly little schoolgirl gushing over Disney movies.
Dear Lord.
She was taking the steps so fast that she stumbled just a little, but Elizabeth kept on going. And it was only when she reached the bottom and her toes hit the cool tiles of the empty foyer that a cold feeling grew in her stomach and she realized she'd have to turn around.
She'd lost her shoe on the steps.
Dear Lord.
"Wait! Please – wait!"
Well, at least the mobster had manners. And if she wasn't mistaken, that was the exact line of dialogue from "Cinderella."
Ugh.
If she never saw, heard, or thought of another Disney movie again after this night, it would be too soon.
Her spine ramrod straight and stiff, Elizabeth deliberated over turning around or not. And apparently she deliberated a little too long because when she finally did, Jason Morgan, Mob Hottie Extraordinaire (gack! She was still doing it!) was trotting down the last couple steps with her silver strappy sandal in his hand.
He looked at her hesitantly, then slowly dropped to one knee and held out her shoe. "You, uh, lost this."
Elizabeth's mouth soured as he looked up at her with those incredible blue eyes, down on one knee in front of her with her shoe extended toward her foot just like in the movie. And she didn't quite care if she looked like a child by planting her hands on her hips as the other guests began to filter into the foyer to head out onto the launch and go home for the night.
"Oh, you have got to be kidding me!"
The End.