Disclaimer: I own nothing

Title: Drive You Blind

Rating: PG-13, for now

Pairing: Glo.

A/N: This is my first venture into the GH realm in years. Give it a shot. And don't maim me if you hate it. Please let me know what you think.

Spoilers: Kind of take's place during Dillon's final episode. I didn't see it, so I'm using the idea to make up my own little ditty.

Summary: The ever-so faithless bad boy. The good girl with the broken heart. Cliché enough to drive each other blind.

The first time he had laid eyes on Georgie Jones, she had been working at Kelly's, in a skirt that was all to unrevealing for his tastes. She had minimal makeup on, her hair thrown back in a messy ponytail, and a tank top that revealed nothing. But she smiled a pleasant smile when she offered to take his order. And he found himself oddly attracted to the all too ordinary girl next door.

He had given his trademark smile, stuck out his hand for her to shake it and said "I'm Logan. Logan Hayes."

Her smile disappeared and she refused to shake his hand.

"Oh. I know who you are," she said flatly. Maxie had talked incessantly about this guy way too much for her taste, and all she heard was about his asinine, womanizing ways.

"Do you now? I'm sure I would remember a pretty face like yours if we met before…" he replied with smirk thinking he would surely win her affections. It always worked before.

"Ugh, please," she spat with disgust, and Logan was slightly taken back, and instantly intrigued. He wondered if she thought she would get some sort of reaction out of him, but he remained composed. "I'm going to put your order in, and if you need anything, please do hesitate to call me," and Georgie began to walk away, but paused when she could feel eyes watching her backside. Her head snapped around and Logan grinned while looking like a kid caught in a candy store.

"And Logan, don't stare at my ass as I walk away," she commanded.

"Sure, doll. Anything you want," and Georgie rolled her eyes as she made her way to the kitchen, trying to hide the small smile that was forming on her face.

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The first time he really saw her was the day Dillon Quartermaine waved goodbye to Port Charles, and headed for a life in self-indulgent Hollywood.

It would be nothing short of a lie to say he had only come to know her as Georgie Jones, All-american good girl next door, a real life girl scout. And it would be an even bigger lie to say that his eyes hadn't wandered time and time again, and wondered just exactly how curvy she was underneath those school girl clothes she wore. A time or two, or five, the thought of how delicate and smooth her skin would feel underneath his lips had crossed his mind too.

He wondered exactly how he could touch her to make her feel anything but innocent, and make her lose control. He wanted to know what his name would sound like coming from her lips in a breathy tone. It was the same he thought with every other girl, but somehow he knew different. She was something different.

Yes, he, Logan Hayes, was a bad man with bad thoughts, and he had no shame in it.

But what he saw, what he felt today, was something much deeper than primal lust.

He watched the way her heart broke with Dillon's every word, ending with the word good-bye. She tried incessantly to fight the tears that were building as he gave her a brief, impersonal hug, in the middle of Kelly's.

She smiled forcefully, and wished him luck and said how grateful she was too have him as her friend, and he shook his head as if he understood.

Friend.

The word was a double-edged sword. He could tell George was trying not to choke on the word with biter distaste and laced with the hint of a stinging betrayal she hadn't fully forgiven, but it went oblivious to Dillon. But not to him. She wiped a tear away, and turned to walk away, letting him go.

And then, like a knife twisting into an open wound, Dillon said his own heartfelt good-bye. Not to Georgie, but to Lulu, and he clung to her like she was his last breath. And that's when he saw her heart splinter into shards

It was there in her eyes, and Logan would have sworn that he could watch and feel her heart breaking, it was that intense. He felt a rush of something he was all too familiar and uncomfortable with. It was something more than sympathy ,surging through him and he almost had to catch his breath. Almost.

He didn't know why he care so much, or why he cared at all. But the truth was he did, even if he didn't like it.

For some reason beyond him, he grew angry inside that Dillon could be so non-chalant, so cold, towards Georgie with no regard for her feelings.

Even he, Logan Hayes, chauvinistic asshole, knew Georgie deserved something better. Better than Dillon, and better than anyone in this damn town had to offer.

Logan heard Coop, mutter something to Maxie, about following her and making sure she was okay, but Maxie whispered something about Georgie needing time to herself and too cool off. Logan rolled his eyes, and threw some money on the table, and did the worst possible thing he could think of.

He followed her.

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"It doesn't hurt me"

She sat alone, embracing the silence of the dead of night; and the dimly lit stars littered among the Port Charles sky. Her limps dangled over the edge of the wooden deck. Light pink painted toes grazed just barely above the murky water below her. The air was stenched with the scent of slightly polluted salt water, and musky wood after an early night's rain.

She watched the shadows of light from the moon dance among the top of the water, that bitter hyphenated 7-letter word dangling in her thoughts.

. And that's all it takes for someone to walk out of your life.

A 7 letter hyphenated word.

All the memories, good and bad, that you shared and etched into your mind don't matter. All the times you said you loved each other, and all the times that you had forgotten that don't matter. The smiles, the kisses, the hugs, holding hands, the fights, the heartache, the break ups, and the awkward, strained friendships don't matter anymore. Because they won't be there anymore. And it stings, like a rope burn from trying to free your tied wrists. A burn right to the heart. Because this time, it's different. It's more final from the last.

The salt enters the wound.

Because he only gave you a brief hug, and a good-bye, and awkward smile.

But that's all he gave you.

While he held onto her, as she cried, and he even let a tear drop slip. You heard him promise to never forget her. But she wasn't his first love you whisper harshly too yourself, fighting the salty tears threatening to fall and burn from your eyes.

But he's not yours anymore.

So you refuse to let it hurt.

Just like how you refuse to let it hurt that someone took your place in his heart. Or that it doesn't hurt when he looked at her how he used to look at you. And it doesn't hurt that despite the mutual agreement that you are friends, somewhere along the way you lost the best friend you both ever had. And you go back to the solitude that has been your life the past few months.

Nope, it doesn't hurt one bit.

You want to feel how it feels?

The sound of footsteps creaked heavily along the cracked, old boardwalk, and she immediately straightened her hunched back, and wiped away the tears on her face away. She sniffled a little, and exhaled loudly, gaining her composure. Her hands reached for her flip flops, and quickly slipped them on. She paused when she heard the footsteps fade away, but then stop causing her to believe her intruder had gone his merry way.

"You know, it is awful dangerous for a young girl too be sitting all by herself on a dock in the middle of the night. You never know what kind of creep could be lurking around out here" a masculine voice chastised.

Annoyance grew in her quickly, and she rolled her eyes.

"And you're just a walking, breathing example of that, now aren't you?" she asked with sugary sweetness, and refused to look back at him.

"Your sister doesn't seem to think so," he shot back and her head whipped around fiercely to face him. And it would be a lie to say that she had to resist the urge to look him up and down over and over again, as he stood there with a smirk on his face. She sighed in annoyance, and turned her head to look back at the water. She was too tired to deal with Logan and his antics.

"My sister's a moron, in case you haven't notices," she spoke simply almost as if she didn't think of him with disdain.

You want to know, know that it doesn't hurt me?

"That's true," Logan remarked as he sat down next to her, and he expected her to react as if he was disgusting, but instead she stilled, except for the motion of her legs swinging incessant over the edge of the dock.

"What are you doing her, Logan? Did you come her just too annoy me, because if you did I'm not really in the mood for you," she scowled without bothering too look at him.

"Actually, I came her to see how you were?" he stated as if he couldn't believe his own words.

Georgie stopped swinging her legs, and raised in eyebrow.

"Why?" she asked skeptically

"Why?"

"Yes, why? It's a simple question, Logan. Why would you even care?"

"Why…because your own sister didn't care enough to even ask, and she sat there and watched the whole thing," Logan pointed out his gaze drifting towards her. He noticed how she began to play with her hands, and her eyes were cast downward.

"Yeah, well it's nothing new. You get used to it."

"Used to what?" he prodded.

"Caring so much about other people, that you don't care if they care about you," Georgie explained, her voice soft and seemingly distant.

Logan signed, not missing a beat wither her underlying meaning. "You mean like, Dillon?"

Georgie's eyes met him and they narrowed harshly, violently. "You have no idea what you're talking about," she snapped.

"When are you going to get it thru your pretty, little head that the guy's not worth it?" Logan asked harshly.

"Go to hell, Logan! You know nothing, nothing, about our relationship, and what we were to each other. You know nothing about me or about Dillon!" she yelled as she pushed at him with her hands, her intensity unrelenting, and causing him to become instantly more attracted to her, but he was as still as a rock, and stayed where he was. A wall of solid muscle, something that despite her anger and hurt didn't go unnoticed by her.

Her eyes were glazed over, almost like a frosted brown glass, and she tried hard to be tough, but she still managed too look like the saddest, loneliest girl he had ever seen before. Her hands had now curled into tiny, powerful fists, and were abusing the flesh underneath his t-shirt.

Logan grabbed her wrists to still her, causing her to move forward and they way he had turned his body ever so slightly caused her be positioned slightly above him and almost in his lap, but she still struggled if only to free herself from his grasp.

"He really meant a lot to you, huh?" he asked in a surprisingly almost calm, soothing voice, fully realizing the depth of her emotions, and just exactly how much she cared for the rich boy.

Georgie nodded her head slightly, and barely managed to respond. "I loved him. I really did. He meant so much to me. He was my real boyfriend, my first love, my first and only…" she confessed despite the voices in her head telling her not too. She was most certainly an unwilling participant in the way her body was reacting to Logan's close proximity.

His strong fingers were still wrapped around her slender wrists, his fingertips gazing her delicate flesh, but their grip had loosened a little, and as much as she was mentally berating herself, she was savoring the closeness of him, the way his blue eyes had locked on her brown ones.

His eyes spoke of danger and a warning that she was too close, way too close for comfort. But there was an underlying compassion that she swore she must have been seeing in her own head. That was not the Logan she knew, or rather knew of. She really knew nothing about him, except what she had heard, and she wondered if he was really as bad as they made him out to be.

For the moment he was a distraction. A distraction she needed desperately.

"Your first and only what, Georgie. The only guy you've ever been with?" Logan brazenly asked, knocking her from her thoughts.

"More than you know…" she whispered, and he briefly wondered at her implication, before his eyes grew mysterious and mischievously. He shifted, and pulled her closer to him, and before she knew it, he had somehow managed to make it so that she was straddling him, one of her legs on either side of him.

"You want to hear about the deal I'm making…"

Georgie struggled too find a reason to justify the position she was in, literally. She had tried to be different from every other girl who had ever fallen all over him, and gave in to him. But it was futile against his muscular build, blue eyes, and bad boy smirk.

She had become just like all the other girls she had never wanted to be.

And as much as she wanted to slap him, and run away into the unknown, and never look at him again, she couldn't. She just flat out couldn't bare to move, and destroy the warmth he created, and or the sensations he had stirred in her. It filled the loneliness and the pain she'd been hiding and feeling for way to long.

"He was the only guy you've ever really kissed," he finished for her, his breathe playing among her lips, as he smiled. Georgie Jones was definitely the good girl. The good girl he desperately wanted to be a little naughty with him.

A flash of embarrassment crossed over her face, and she turned her head away from him, and she fought to stand up and get away from him, but she wasn't trying hard enough. The next thing she felt was warm, skilled lips upon hers. Almost immediately she surrendered, and settle back into the comfort of him.

His tongue grazed her lips, demanding entrance, and Georgie could sense that he expected her to fight it, to fight him. To his surprise she let him in almost without hesitation. As she brushed her tongue with his, she felt him move his lower half, trying to get closer to her, and she gently lifted herself up a little, causing him to growl in frustration, and kiss her more fiercely.

"You (If I only could be running up that hill)…"

Georgie gave him what he demanded as she kissed him with a since of urgency, reverently. She let his tongue explore her mouth, as she leaned into him, her body curving to mold with his. Her lips were burning like fire, and she couldn't get enough. He kissed her like a famished man demanding food, and Georgie felt the thrill of being in control, and wanted. She moaned and he gently bit her bottom lip, before moving his lips down the path of the hollow of her throat, his tongue tracing where his lips had touched, her breathing become more labored, as she was feeling things, sensations, and a temptation she hadn't felt ever before in her life. Not even with Dillon.

She pushed him away frantically, causing him to stumble backwards, his back laying on the dock, and she stepped over him hurriedly. She had to get away from him. She wiped where his lips had been on her neck as if trying to wash his away.

"Oh, come on, princess. It wasn't that bad," Logan grinned as he stood up, and wiped his hands on his jeans.

Georgie glared at him, and silently cursed him, and herself.

"This never happened," she demanded of him.

Logan walked towards her, laughing mockingly.

"Oh, it sure as hell did, doll," Logan toyed with her, and kept walking only to stop when he was close enough to her to reach out and touch her. But Georgie took a few steps back, weary of him, but it wasn't far enough. He reached out and grabbed her by her waist, and pulled her flush against him, refusing to let her go.

"For the records, Dillon's a moron. And you have no idea what you've just started, darlin'," he whispered in her ear before letting her go roughly and walking away, never looking back.

"You and me (If I only could be running up that hill)…"

To continue or not to continue that is the question.

Select lyrics borrowed from Placebo.

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