A/N: So this story is pretty much entirely A/U based on the show last March when Tracy and Luke wondered what things would have been like had they met when they were teenagers. I always thought it was a pretty interesting question and with all the death and sadness on GH these days it seemed like a pretty good time for some light hearted fun. I know that Luke and Tracy both didn't come onto the show until the late 70s when they were both in their twenties but I've monkey-ed around with the timeline a little. Also, I'm not entirely certain how old Luke and Tracy are supposed to be on the show but Tony Geary and Jane Elliot are 59 and 60 respectively in real life and this story makes them both the same age.
Anyways, please read and review, I'd love to know what people think of this story.
CHAPTER ONE
May, 1967
It was around one thirty in the morning when the Cadillac came screaming down Miller's Lane. In the front seats was a young couple who were arguing loudly, they'd been driving along for about five minutes when the boy in the driver's seat slammed abruptly on the brakes, bringing the car to a screeching halt. Ten seconds later the passenger side door opened and the girl got out, slamming the door behind her. As soon as the hem of her skirt was clear of the car, she bent down and took off one of her high heels; she then threw the shoe at the rapidly departing vehicle, which by then was nothing but a brief flicker of brake lights at the end of the road.
'Well this is just perfect,' Tracy Quartermaine thought to herself as she walked gingerly down the abandoned road, her high heels were somehow managing to catch every single pit and crack in the miserably paved street and she just knew that she was five minutes away from a broken ankle. It was a miserable end to a thoroughly miserable evening. Her date, Travis Collins' mother Katherine and her mother Lila were on the DAR fundraising committee together, and Tracy had agreed to go out with the little cretin only after an express threat from her mother. The evening had started to go south almost as soon as it began, when Travis stepped on her foot on the way from her front door to his car. From there they went to dinner at some smarmy little Italian restaurant where Travis ordered calamari, which Tracy found disgusting and so she spent the entire time trying not to vomit while he tore his way through a plate of fried squid remains. Then at the movies he'd spilled Coke all over her brand new suede miniskirt which had only been saved by her quick thinking and twenty minutes under cold water in the bathroom sink.
But the highlight of the evening, really of her entire week, was when Travis decided to take a thirty minute drive up to Lover's Lane so they could go parking. As if. He was kind of cute in a James Dean kind of way which was the only reason that Tracy had agreed to go, hoping that if nothing else she'd wind up with a decent orgasm out of the date from hell, but it turned out that Travis was incompetent in that area as well. He bit her lips too hard, squeezed her breasts like he was checking a pair of melons for freshness, and the minute those overly moist fingers started creeping up her skirt Tracy knew that it wasn't going to be happening, not that night, not ever.
So Travis got insulted, and then, when he realized that she wasn't going to back down, he got angry. They were only about five minutes into their drive back to town when he started calling her a prick tease, and even though it wasn't the first time that Tracy had heard it she wasn't about to sit still and be insulted by some socially incompetent Neanderthal. She had just started to tell the ass what she really thought of him when he slammed on the brakes and threw her out of the car.
Just then the heel of Tracy's right shoe got caught in a particularly deep crack in the road pulling her out of her thoughts and she stumbled, nearly falling to the ground. Deciding that it would probably be safer for her to go without shoes than to break her ankle out here in the middle of nowhere she took her heels off and set off again, going even slower than she had been before. As she walked down the road, going towards what she hoped was civilization, Tracy's rage moved from Travis to her father Edward. After all, he was the one who moved the family from New York City to Port Charles, a town where culture and excitement came to die. She'd been perfectly happy boarding at Chatham Prep with all of her friends, and looking forward to an awesome Senior year when she'd found out that Edward expected her to make to make the move too. So here she was three months later, stuck in a town she hated, with no friends, walking down an abandoned road in the middle of nowhere, hoping against hope that she wouldn't step on a piece of glass and wake up in the morning with the plague.
Tracy had been walking for about fifteen minutes; building up a bigger and bigger head of steam with every step, when she heard what she thought was a motor coming up from behind her. She turned around and sure enough, she saw the single headlight of a motorcycle coming right towards her. Tracy was by no means a naïve girl, and she knew that accepting a ride from some strange motorcyclist was the best way to wind up some face on a milk carton, but it was getting close to two in the morning and whether this guy was going to wind up taking her home or locking her up in his sexual torture chamber/basement, there was no way she was walking another step.
New course of action firmly in mind Tracy turned, stood near the center of the road, and began jumping up and down, waving her hands, and shouting at the top of her lungs. To her shock the guy didn't even slow down, and Tracy realized that he was going to go right past her. Without even thinking about it Tracy took one of shoes out of her purse and aimed it his head then, with the perfect form that had lead the Chatham Prep Softball Team to the State Championships two years in a row, she wound up and let the shoe fly. It hit him square in the back of his helmet and Tracy watched with satisfaction as he fought to keep control over his bike. Not willing to risk being left behind again, she quickly hurried after him.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" He began shouting once Tracy made it to the bike. "Are you trying to kill me?"
"What the hell is wrong with me?" Tracy shouted right back, "what the hell is wrong with you? Who leaves some helpless pedestrian by the side of the road in the middle of the night?"
"I'm sorry darlin'," he said, undoing his chin strap and taking the helmet off, "I'm not in the habit of picking up strange women on the side of the road."
With the helmet off, Tracy was surprised to see that the man was really a boy, if not her age then only a year or so older. He had close cropped, though outrageously curly blonde hair, blue eyes, and was, as near as she could tell in the darkness, actually pretty cute. Not that that mattered, Tracy was quick to assure herself, he was obviously not the sort of boy that Tracy would have anything to do with if this weren't an absolute emergency.
"Well, well, well…" The boy drawled, leaning back and taking Tracy in from head to toe, "I may have spoken too soon."
"Oh get over yourself," Tracy snapped, reaching out and slapping his shoulder, "I'm stranded out here and I need a ride into town."
"And what makes you think that I'm headed to Port Charles darlin'?" He asked, eyes twinkling, "There's a lot of open road out here for a man to explore."
"Oh please," Tracy scoffed, "spare me the rebel without a clue act. I know enough to know that there are no outlets off of this road without at least going through Port Charles first, so I'm not taking you out of your way. Besides," she broke off for a moment, mentally calculating the amount of cash she had in her purse, "I can give you forty bucks for your trouble."
The money got his attention in a hurry. "Well now you're speaking a language I understand Princess," He swung his leg back over the bike and started the engine. "Hop on."
Tracy eyed the bike disdainfully, waiting for the boy to at least show her how to get on. Motorcycles, though an element of any self respecting rich girl's fantasy life, were machines that she had absolutely no practical experience with.
"What's the matter darlin'?" The boy was grinning at her now, obviously enjoying her confusion, "are you waiting on an engraved invitation or something?"
"Oh shut up," Tracy snapped, "I go in my own time!"
"Anytime tonight sweetheart, it's your money."
Well Tracy would die before she asked this jackass for help. With a quick prayer that the seams on her skirt would hold, she climbed up behind him. To her surprise, he quickly took hold of her arms and wrapped them around his waist, forcing her to lean forward and rest her chin on his shoulder. He was just getting ready to take off when Tracy tapped him none too gently on the stomach.
"What the hell do you want?" it was late and he was getting damned tired of being beat up by the little princess.
"Give me the helmet." Tracy demanded.
"Why on Earth would I give you my helmet?" He asked incredulously.
"Because if I'm going to give you that forty bucks when we get to town it would be a good idea for you take every precaution to make sure that my brains don't wind up splattered somewhere along this road." Tracy was smug in her assertion, but it was her experience that for the right price people were willing to give you anything. Sure enough the boy's shoulder sagged in frustration and he handed the helmet to her, swearing under his breath throughout the entire transaction. "Thank you." She chirped brightly, securing the helmet securely under her chin.
"You ready?" He didn't even wait for an answer before kicking the motorcycle into gear. If Tracy hadn't had the sense to wrap her arms around him the second he started asking the question, she would have wound up on her back sprawled in the middle of the road, helmet and all.
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They reached Main Street about twenty minutes later and the bike came to a screeching halt.
"Ok sweetheart," her driver announced, "this is your stop."
"Are you kidding me?" Tracy asked, even as she dismounted, "This is at least ten minutes from my house!"
"That wasn't part of the deal darlin', you wanted me to drive you into Port Charles and here we are." He stopped and pointed to one of the 'Welcome to Port Charles' banners hanging from the lamp post.
"You know what?" Tracy asked, ripping the helmet off of her head and throwing it at him, just the slightest bit disappointed when he caught it without any obvious difficulty, "I wouldn't ride another minute with an insufferable roughneck like you! Just take your damn money and get out of my sight!" She dug the money out of her purse and held it out towards him.
Her biker boy looked at Tracy, and under the glow of the streetlights she was disgusted to realize that he was much cuter than she had assumed, his eyes which had been dancing with amusement just a few seconds ago grew dark with something Tracy didn't recognize. Correction, with something Tracy wanted to pretend she didn't recognize, but the minute he got off the bike Tracy knew exactly what he was coming for.
"L-l-look," she stammered, backing up rapidly but with no ready avenue of escape, her shoes and purse dropped out of her hands as they went slack with nerves, "I'm really sorry about yelling at you like that." Just then her back hit a wall and all hope for escape was gone.
In just a few seconds he was right there in front of her and suddenly running away was the last thing on Tracy's mind. When he bent down and kissed her it was like nothing else Tracy had ever experienced, his lips ghosted over top of hers and she immediately opened her mouth to get more of him. His tongue thrust into her mouth and she eagerly returned the favor. The whole thing was happening too fast, too soon for Tracy to have any sort of plan of attack, so she grabbed a hold of his waist with both well manicured hands and pulled him closer trying to find some way, any way of reliving the pressure building up inside of her.
"Oh God," he gasped, breaking their mouths to draw in some much needed air. Tracy worried for about two seconds that he was going to pull away before his mouth was back on hers, just as insistent as it had been moments before. Her brain was sending out all sorts of 'this is bad, bad, oh so totally immediate shipment to a Swiss boarding school bad!' messages, but this was by far the most fun she'd had since her father had decided that the family was moving to Port Charles. Her skirt was tight against her thighs, keeping her from opening her legs as wide as she might like to, so Tracy reached down with her right hand and pulled the skirt up closer to her hips. Biker boy must have liked that because he suddenly reached down and grabbed her by the waist, lifting her up high and she immediately caught on and wrapped her legs around her waist as he pushed their bodies further against the wall, never once breaking the connection between their mouths.
"Look, I don't care what you say man, there is no way that PCH is gonna loose that baseball game on Saturday. The guys at Saint Joe's have only won three games all season and one of those was cause Filmore High had to pull out of the game…"
Tracy and the boy heard the two teenagers only moments before they would have been discovered. Tracy's blouse was half undone and her miniskirt was around her hips and there wasn't enough time for her to get down and make herself presentable so the boy kept his hold on her hips and moved them both further into the shadows, hoping that the group would just walk past them and not notice anything amiss.
Tracy had no interest in getting caught either so she didn't try to object to biker boy's sudden maneuvering. She linked her legs around his waist and tucked her head down in the crook of his neck in an effort to make them appear as small as possible. She couldn't ignore the erection pressing into upper thigh but she did her best not to react to it.
The two friends passed by Tracy and her mystery boy almost as soon as the latter pair heard them come up and Tracy quickly pushed against the boy, silently demanding that he put her down. It took her only a few seconds to re-button her shirt and pull her skirt down all the while she glared at the boy leaning against the wall next to her, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.
"Well," Tracy began shakily, finding it difficult to locate her normal haughty composure when her lips felt positively swollen and she was relatively certain that if it wasn't so dark he would be able to see her nipples poking through her bra and blouse, "thanks for the ride."
"Anytime darlin'." The boy was still leaning against the wall, smirking like the cat that had nearly eaten the goddamn canary.
Looking at his smile and the spark in his eyes Tracy could feel herself starting to drift back towards the mysterious boy but she gave herself a mental slap and began walking quickly back towards the bike a few feet away. Bending down to pick up the heels that she had kicked off when they'd first started to make out. Near the shoes Tracy saw the money that she'd dropped when biker boy first started coming near her. She turned around to give him the money, expecting to see him right behind her but the alleyway was empty. As she slipped her shoes on Tracy looked at the twenties in her hand, briefly considering keeping the money and putting it back in her purse. On the other hand she considered, bending down yet again to pick up her bag, he had just given her the best time she'd had since moving to Port Charles three months ago. Besides, she reasoned to herself as she placed the money on the motorcycle's seat before turning around and heading home, he could certainly use the money to buy himself a new shirt and a decent haircut.
From in his position in the shadows at the far end of the alley Luke Spencer watched as the Princess put the money down on the seat of his bike and took off down the road. There was a guy he knew in his neighborhood who would buy him a six pack for a couple of bucks extra and he planned on taking the beer up into the hills the next afternoon and doing a little fishing. Not a bad haul at all for taking a chance on an angry little Princess with a wicked fast ball. In fact, Luke chuckled to himself, rubbing the angry feeling mark on his neck that he knew would be a hickey by the morning, he might never know Princess' name, but he wasn't going to be forgetting this night for a while.
