A/N: Okay, I had this idea and it wouldn't let go. I am very nervous about it because it is very AU and somewhat complicated, so I hope I can keep track of all the threads (I am working off an outline for the first time ever). It also requires me to write some characters that either a) I never actually saw on GH; or b) have very identifiable dialogue styles that I'm not sure I can write adequately.

Anyway, here's what you need to know: First, throw out everything you know about relationships among characters. Then, note that the action is initially in a variety of locations around the U.S. and basically no one who lives in one place knows anyone who lives in another place, but most of the people who live in the same location have at least met all the other people who live in that location (there may be a few exceptions, but they should become clear in the story). Some of the family ties are similar to the show (Jason & the Quartermaines; the Webbers; Jax & Jerry), and some aren't (e.g., Carly isn't a Spencer – and, at this point, I don't even expect her to be a particularly important character). Some relationships have different histories, but hopefully those will become clear as we go. That said, please contact me if you have any questions.

As always, I don't own any of the characters (except the ones I may make up ...)

Here we go …

Prologue (5 years ago)

Los Angeles, California

Jason Quartermaine paused to slide his sunglasses on as he stepped out of the small, non-descript office building into the glare of the December sunshine. This would be his last deposit until after the holidays, when he got back from visiting his family in Port Charles in a few weeks. The break would make a dent in his income – he would have trouble making both his car payment and the rent on his upscale apartment in the Hollywood Hills unless some of his family came through with some cash instead of yet another 300 designer reindeer sweater (which he would wear once to please them and then bury in his closet until he could give it to some charity or other).

"Jason?"

Crap, he thought, stiffening. What is she doing here? Since he knew she would never let him get away with pretending he didn't hear her, he turned toward her voice. She had just exited a taxi and was looking at him curiously.

"Brenda? What are you doing here?"

"I was just going to ask you the same thing. I thought all the offices in this place were either gynecologists or infertility specialists… Oh my God, did you get that slut pregnant?"

Jason rolled his eyes. Brenda had hated Carly from the moment they met. He had tried explaining the benefits of having a girl like Carly around, but she just got mad and told him to grow up and find a real woman before Carly got pregnant and trapped him. It had been an ongoing disagreement for nearly three months before they finally agreed that Brenda would stop bugging him about it as long as he promised to be obsessive about birth control, to keep Carly completely away from her, and to never mention "that woman" to her again. He was glad, because Brenda was his friend and he knew she was only a pain in the ass because she cared about him. Frankly, he didn't want to be forced to choose between her and great, though meaningless, sex. He figured it was enough that they both knew that if she pushed hard enough, he would dump Carly, but he would be irritated about having to find another bed partner who would in all likelihood be cut from the same cloth anyway.

"No, Carly isn't pregnant and she isn't going to be. But why are you here? Are you okay?" He tried to change the subject, knowing even as he spoke that it was pointless. This was, after all, Brenda.

She waved off his concern with an elegant flick of her wrist. "I'm fine, of course, just a routine check-up. But if Carly isn't pregnant, why would you be here?" She looked at the discreet sign next to the door, started to read the office names aloud. "Gynecological Associates, Advanced Obstetrics and Gynecology…"

"Brenda, don't worry about it. It's no big deal."

She continued as if she hadn't heard him, "…Advanced Reproductive Affiliates, Cryogenic Fertility Service and Storage Facility …"

"Brenda," he tried again, even as he watched her eyes widen, knowing it was too late. "I don't have time for this, and you don't want to be late for your appointment."

"A sperm bank?! You're coming out of a sperm bank? Ewwww! Jason! Please tell me this is a joke. You somehow knew I would be here and decided to mess with my head, right? Right?!" she asked desperately, her voice rising with each syllable. At the look he gave her, she continued, nearly shouting now, "Oh, my god, Jason, tell me you're not selling your sperm!"

"Shut up, Brenda," he said tightly, "Geez, why don't you take out an ad? I don't think they heard you back in New York."

"Oh, my god, you are selling your sperm! Your parents would kill you! Your grandfather would have a stroke. Why would you do that? It's not like you need the money…" She paused to take a breath, caught his annoyed look, and glared at him. "You have plenty of money," she declared confidently.

"No, my family has plenty of money. And you know I want to make it on my own."

"So you're selling your sperm. You have got to be kidding me," she insisted. "Have you thought about what that means? There could be hundreds of little Jasons running around that you won't ever know!"

"I seriously doubt that there'll be hundreds. Maybe tens," he tried to joke, but she just glared at him some more, so he continued, "Besides, some of it is used for medical research." He heard the defensive edge in his own voice and mentally cringed.

"Some of it? Some of it?! What about the rest of it? And just how much is there? How long have you been doing this? Oh, my God, I have got to get the thought of you, doing that, out of my head. Oh, god," she moaned again.

"The rest of it makes some lucky couple – or maybe even a few couples -- very happy. It's no big deal." There was that defensive tone again. He held up a hand before she could interrupt and continued, "Look, do we have to do this right this minute? I'd rather the entire city of LA didn't know my business."

She didn't stop, though, not that he'd really thought she would. She wouldn't be Brenda if she could stop once she was on a roll like this. "No big deal? No big deal?!" He absently noted her sudden penchant for repetition and emphasis, which indicated just how upset she was about this. "Jason, you have got to be kidding me. This is a very big deal. And you didn't answer me. How long?"

"Once a week for the past year, okay?" he snapped. "Now can we please drop this? Or at least table it until we aren't in the middle of a public street." He gave her his most intimidating frown, but because she knew him so well, knew he would never hurt her no matter how angry she made him, he was surprised when she actually backed down.

"Fine. I'll let it go for now, but only because I'm going to be late as it is. But I am coming by tonight and we will discuss it then."

"It'll have to wait until after the holidays," he pointed out, a bit less heatedly. "My flight leaves in a few hours and I have to run home and pack." She started to insist, but he reminded her, "And don't you have to pack for Switzerland?" She was leaving early in the morning to spend the holidays skiing with her family.

"Fine," she said again, her voice quieter, but nevertheless still insistent. "But if you're thinking I'm gonna just cool off and drop this – forget it. We're talking about this the minute you get back. In fact, I'm picking you up at the airport."

"Fine," he said tersely. Then, more gently, "Have a good trip. Merry Christmas."

Her expression softened slightly at that. "You, too," she whispered, and threw her arms around him briefly before turning and hurrying into the building.