"You're breathing awfully heavily, Stone Cold."
"Spinelli," Jason hissed, pressing his earpiece against the side of his face, somehow hoping the nerd would understand just how aggravated his boss was.
Not only was Jason standing knee deep in paperwork in the district attorney's office-of all places, but he had this damn geek as his guide. He still wasn't sure as to what they were looking for, and he doubted that Damien "The Jackal" Spinelli was going to be his aid in finding it. All he knew was that something incriminating existed, and it was up to him to locate and destroy.
Well, it was that or prison. And Jason Morgan didn't particularly look too well in stripes.
This entire incident had turned into one chaotic mess after another. Sonny Corinthos had promised him that carrying out a hit on Anthony Zacharra would be as easy as putting on his pants in the morning, but nothing had gone has planned.
"The Jackal is merely pointing out a fact," he replied seriously. Jason could hear his fingers typing feverishly against his keyboard. "Perhaps, Stone Cold is partaking in one too many donuts these days and needs a new regime of-"
"Are you telling me what I'm supposed to be looking for?" Jason interrupted, sighing heavily as he made his way around the desk, pulling open drawers with his leather gloved hands. "Cause if you're not, you need to shut the hell up."
Okay, so maybe he was just a little tense, but this was his freedom on the line.
All because Anthony's bad ass wannabe son with his foul mouth, had to walk in on him shooting his father. If Jason had any sense, he would have off'd the little fucker too, but for some reason he told himself Johnny Zacharra shouldn't pay for the sins of his father.
In the past, it didn't matter who paid, just as long as someone took the fall. Sometimes he worried if Jason Morgan, alleged mob enforcer, was going soft.
"Perhaps, Stone Cold should put the business card the Jackal gave him to use," Spinelli clucked over the earpiece, and Jason could see the disapproval in the computer hacker's eyes.
Damien Spinelli was supposed to be technical support. Nowhere in that job description did it say anything about handing out business cards to go have a session with Lainey Winters because the big man appeared to be on edge. Perhaps, if the nerd had put a bullet between a man's eyes, only to have his son of a bitch leak some kind of information to the district attorney, he'd have felt differently.
Jason had to give it to Johnny; the kid wasn't a complete idiot. He made no threats or grand gestures when he'd caught the enforcer standing over his father's body, simply saying that somehow he'd find a way to make Jason Morgan pay. At least the youngest Zacharra seemed to understand how things worked in this business, which was fine by Jason, one less he mouth he had to shut up at the moment.
At least that was until D.A. Ric Lansing decided to peruse around HarborView Towers, sticking his damn nose where it didn't belong. He let it slip, not so subtly, that the kingpin Zacharra had been murdered at his estate and he was sure that his son knew something. Rambling on, he talked about how Johnny was just a kid, and he was bound to let some important piece of evidence slip.
Less than eight hours later, Spinelli had come barreling into Penthouse 2 with his laptop in hand, frantically shouting about how the D.A. had evidence of sorts. The nerd then narrowed down this so-called evidence to either being recorded or written, which left them with little to go on.
Sometimes he wondered just how skilled the Assassin of Cyberspace really was.
The only thing they could agree on was the fact that Ric Lansing would have never left this supposed existing evidence out in the open. Jason wasn't going to put it past him, to have it tucked safely in his front pants pocket, where Morgan would never get his hands on it.
At this point, he had two options; find whatever the hell Spinelli was so sure existed somewhere in the tiny office, or kill Johnny Zacharra seeing as he was the only one who put any of this into play. It was a complicated situation, and as time passed, it became obvious Jason may have to resort to option two.
And two murders in the past month? Well, that was a little much at this point.
"Stone Cold?" came the techie's nervous voice over the earpiece. "Are you mad at me?"
He grimaced, slamming one of the doors shut, his eyes flashing to the door. It was basically a miracle that Jason had gotten unlimited access to the D.A.'s office, heavy thanks to their connections at the PCPD, and if he wasn't careful, he'd lose it in a matter of seconds.
"Shit," Jason murmured, cutting him off when there was a knock on the door.
"That is most definitely not a good word," came Spinelli's low reply.
Straightening up, he glanced around the room hurriedly, knowing there was nowhere for him to hide in this teeny room. He was totally and completely fucked in the worst possible way.
"Someone's at the door," he replied, pulling the piece from his ear. "Be quiet."
Elizabeth Webber sighed nervously, before gently rapping her tight fist against the door once again.
Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself that this was no different than speaking with the district attorney on the phone, which they'd done a lot of lately. She was still taken back by his overwhelming kindness and desire to help her, when she was sure that the man would have chewed her up and spit her out.
She'd heard lots of things about Ric Lansing before moving to Port Charles, the majority being bad. Most thought he ruled with an iron fist of jealously, his alleged crime boss of a brother constantly giving him a run for his money in the eyes of the law. And there were even worse rumors about what he did with his personal time; having heard him called everything but the kind of man you wanted to take you to bed.
She found that he hardly lived up to his reputation, never raising his voice at her, and always offering her some kind of out. Granted, she was a woman, and he supposedly liked them a lot, but she made it clear he wasn't getting any kind of favors for anything he did for her. And he'd never even tried, but then again, she'd yet to meet him face to face.
Perhaps, that was why her knees were shaking when she was standing in the hallway outside his office. The last time a man had been this nice to her, he'd had every ulterior motive possible, and she ended up heartbroken. Not that she was looking for a lover or even a friend in the district attorney.
No, she was simply looking for someone to limit her legal troubles as much as possible so she could get on with her life.
"Mr. Lansing," she called out shyly, after hearing movement in his office.
Judging from the slamming sounds and swear words she heard being muttered through the thin door, she knew she was interrupting him in some way, but that didn't stop her from doing something even more stupid.
"Mr. Lansing," she murmured, turning the handle slowly, and pushing the door open. "I uh, I'm sorry to interrupt...I just..."
Her voice trailed off, her mouth suddenly going dry when her eyes landed on the sandy blonde, blue eyed man that was sitting on the edge of the desk. She found it impossible not to stare at his snug fitting jeans, doing her best to focus more on the leather jacket. She wasn't sure, seeing as she only knew about district attorneys from television shows, but something told her they weren't supposed to look like this.
No wonder those rumors about him existed. He was...Well, she wasn't going to start thinking about the D.A like that-at least not this soon.
"The rookie at the front desk didn't think you were in," she said slowly, doing her best to avoid tripping over her words, but it was impossible when he was staring at her like that.
His eyebrows were raised, obviously in confusion, his hands clasped gently in his lap. She felt like a fool standing there stuttering in front of him, and did her best to ignore the heat she felt rising in her body, sending a dark flush to her cheeks.
"I have-I have the uh, papers I talked to you about on the phone," she stammered, stepping forward, a slight buckle in her knees as she walked.
When she held the papers out, his eyes, the softest blue she'd ever seen, dipped slightly, staring as if he weren't quite sure what to do.
"It's everything we talked about," she continued, shaking them at him, relieved when he finally pulled them from her hands.
His eyes swept over the top page hurriedly, as he chewed his lip quietly. "Elizabeth," he murmured, his thumb playing with the bent corner of the paper.
"Yes, we've spoken a lot in the past few weeks," she said, swallowing hard, not sure why she felt the need to remind him who she was. "I know that I came to town early, but I figured it was best to get a start-all things considered."
He nodded, as he rolled the papers up in his hands, and tucked them beneath his arm.
"Clearly, I've come at a terrible time," she said, tugging at the collar of her soft, blue, button down shirt. She'd done her best to dress appropriately and believable, wanting to show Mr. Lansing that she took his offer very seriously, and from the way his eyes swept over her she had a feeling she'd failed miserably.
Or maybe he just looked at all women this way.
"Well, you have my number," she muttered, tugging at the hem of her skirt, suddenly feeling as though it was all too short from the way his eyes roamed up and down her legs. "And if you've misplaced it, it's in the paperwork somewhere. I've uh, rented a room above a bar for now…Kind of a shady place, but it'll do."
"Jake's?" he mused, tilting his head as he stared at her, several strands of his hair falling into his eyes.
Really, it wasn't fair for him to look at her like that, when she was trying so hard to keep with pure thoughts.
"Yes, I do believe that's what it's called," she replied, tucking a strand of her long, chocolate locks behind her ear. "But I assure you, I won't be causing trouble of any kind. My bar fighting days are long over."
He looked anything but pleased with her wordy antics.
"That was a joke," she continued, half wincing when he didn't make so much as an effort to smile at her. "Sorry, I uh, it's just you know, law enforcement tends to make me nervous…Bet you've never heard that before."
"You'd be surprised," he murmured, shifting to hold her papers in his hands again, clucking his tongue as he looked over the first page again.
Jason found it impossible not to scoff.
This non-stop talking, obviously somewhat neurotic, but very attractive brunette thought he was Ric Lansing.
Ric Fucking Lansing.
He would have laughed aloud at the sheer irony of the situation, had it not meant laughing in her pretty little face, and laughing was the last thing he wanted to do to her face.
Everyone knew about Lansing's reputation among women. He womanized and used and abused in every possible way if it meant getting a little something on the side. It was difficult to tell whether Elizabeth Webber was actually the type of woman to go along with something like that.
She'd obviously dressed to make a point. A buttoned up blouse, all the way up to her neck, and he found himself wondering what it would be like to pluck them open one by one. And sure, her skirt wasn't too short, but it left little to the imagination in terms of skin, and he wanted nothing more than to run a slender finger across her creamy calf.
So much for keeping himself out of prison.
He'd practically been caught red handed in the one place he shouldn't be, but if it meant getting to take this neurotic number for a ride first, he thought maybe he could go away a happy man.
"…Again, thank you so much for the opportunity you've given me here, Mr. Lansing," she said, sinking her teeth into her plump, lower lip.
She had very nice lips. Ones that he'd like to chew on for her, causing his name to come from them in gasps and moans.
Of course, he'd have to correct her first on who he actually was. There was no way in hell he was going to let her continue thinking he was Ric Lansing, if he planned on getting her into bed. The thought of that name coming from that sexy little mouth of hers made him break out in hives.
Then again, that meant explaining who he was and why he too was in the office. The more he thought about it, he realized this was becoming an even bigger mess, but at least it was one he could take to bed.
"Well, Ms. Webber," he murmured, after stealing another glance at her paperwork.
He was dying to flip through everything she'd handed him and find out just why she was in such dire need of legal aid. It didn't matter that it wasn't his business and it was snooping. She was the one who had walked into the D.A.'s office without so much as a please enter from the other side.
So, yes, this was most definitely her fault.
"It's my pleasure to help you in any possible way," he drawled, his voice low and husky, and he was more than pleased with himself when she blushed and stared down at the floor.
"Stone Cold!" he heard suddenly from the earpiece, he'd thrown down onto the desk before she opened the door.
Leave it to the nerd to interrupt at the worst possible time.
He held up a finger at Ms. Webber, sliding the earpiece back into place. "Busy at the moment," he muttered firmly, forcing a tight lipped smile at the brunette.
It wasn't like Jason Morgan to lie, especially to women, but something about this one just made him do it. He blamed the possibilities of what could come out of the lie, as well as the damage that would be reaped from the truth.
"I've Jackal'd just what Stone Cold needs to avoid the possibilities that come with soap on a rope," the nerd replied excitedly, his hands flying against the keyboard. "The D.A. of Darkness has obtained some security footage of you on the Zacharra property the day the late Z-Crazy was taken out."
"Which would be located where?" he growled into the earpiece, his eyes still focused on the timid woman standing in front of him.
He briefly thought about what it would be like to take her right there on Ric Lansing's desk, feeling somewhat boastful about sticking it to the district attorney in a roundabout way, but he respected her too much to do something like that.
No, she was well worth using her room above Jake's…Or his, for that matter.
Rolling his eyes, he listened to the nerd rant on about filing cabinets and codes, before giving him the exact location of where this said information would be. Jason was too distracted with how Elizabeth seemed to be slowly making her way towards the door to actually pay attention.
"Hold on," he murmured, pulling the piece away, and doing his best to give her a warm smile. "Sorry about that, Ms. Webber."
"Stone Cold! Are you talking to a girl during a situation like this?" he heard Spinelli shouting, as he slipped the earpiece into his lap, and snapped it in two.
He was an idiot, letting some pathetic woman come between him and his chance of freedom, but oh how he believed she was worth it.
"It's fine," she replied, folding her arms across her chest, and returning his smile with an awkward one of her own. "But you're busy, so I'll go. You know where to find me, and again, thank you for your help."
Sitting back in Ric's desk chair, he nodded, even tossing her a wink before she turned and disappeared out the door. He was definitely going to be finding her later.
"Shit," he growled, his phone ringing loudly in his pocket. He shifted hurriedly, pulling the phone from his pocket, not at all surprised to see his boss' name on the caller ID. "Yeah?"
"What the hell are you doing?" Sonny shouted, to which Jason silently threatened to kill Spinelli for calling him in the first place. "That damn computer geek said you're flirting with a woman? In Ric's office of all places?"
He grunted, taking a deep breath, as he scratched a hand over his face. "Yeah," he muttered, staring at the closed door across the room. "Things just got even further complicated."