I have this new fic, a tiny glimpse into our favorite enforcers mind. If you don't take it too seriously, my snarky humor just might make you smile.
Hope you like. Happy Belated V-Day.
Rated: R
Disclaimer: If this roams around Jason Morgan's head, I really should be getting a paycheck.
Truth is stranger than Fan-Fiction
The first thing I notice as my sleep addled brain claws it's way to consciousness, is the marching band that's playing in the bedroom with me. Full on drum solos and everything. Except of course that I know that's impossible, as the guards, who would be genuflecting at my well worn boot soles if they dared do some such stupid shit, would never allow it. So that means I've probably been drinking a bit too much. Bright blinding light coming through the window? Check. Head taking its turn on the merry-go-round? Check. Mouth feel like something crawled into it and died? Check. Yeah, I've been drinking again. It isn't so bad really. Of course given my current circumstances, I really try not to find myself three sheets to the winds too often. Anthony Zacchara is still on the loose. The FBI is still after Spinelli. Sonny's head is still stuck up his ass. And of course I have an organization to run. I wonder why people call it an organization? I mean really, that implies shared leadership roles doesn't it? When the truth of the matter is, I run a dictatorship. Do what I say or die. Ah, such is the life. It's not a lot, but it's my life. So back to the situation at hand, I've been drinking. Now that isn't too bad. What's really starting to creep up my spine is the fact that this isn't my bed. Too soft. I like a good hard mattress, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out why. A man must have his creature comforts in the midst of a good round of sweat slicking, back banging sex. So does that negate the whole guard/marching band argument I just waged with myself a second ago? Now, I scramble through my throbbing brain searching for certain pertinent facts about my situation and try to figure out the last thing I remember. Date, hopefully February 15th. Time, given the direction of said blinding light, probably etching up toward midday. Last known location, Metro Court for Carly's Valentine's Ball. "Jason." I hear a voice murmur sounding as if it was halfway between coming and whining and it ain't mine. I might be a little self-centered but even I don't call out my own name. Oh, shit. You'd probably think this next eye opening fact would have struck me a little bit sooner, but hey, I'm struggling with a hangover, give a guy a break. So, yeah, I'm in bed and I'm naked. Not the newsflash, I do that occasionally. Sometimes I just need a little freedom, not so much with Spinelli living in the penthouse because that would probably traumatize us both. I'm just naked with an arm full of naked woman draped over me. One eye dares to creep open and I take in the inspiring view. Dark hair with just a hint of vanilla, I recognize that shampoo. Once had to pick some up at the store. People still look at me strange when I go grocery shopping. I mean, fuck, I ship coffee, I don't live off it. Warm skin, soft under my hands. And let me tell you, if I had a choice of where I'd want my hand to spend the rest of eternity, cupping this ass right here is number one on the list. Can't say I'm complaining. Neither is the "little Stone Cold" as he makes himself known. I'd shoot myself before admitting it but that little euphemism Spinelli cooked up cracks me up. Probably not for the reasons the little guy intended though. So how did I get into this situation? Because, now that I know I have an armful of "whoa, hot mama" in my bed, I can only hope that Sam McCall was a full and willing participant. The woman's already shot me once this year already.
XXooXX
Friday, February 13th 6:30 p.m."Let me get this straight Carly. You want me to go where, dressed as what?"
Now there weren't many things Jason Morgan wouldn't do for his best friend. Lie, cheat, steal, kill. You name it, he's probably done it for her. But he should probably draw the line at dressing up in a costume for a party at the Metro Court for Valentine's Day. He'd rather be stuck in a room full of Quartermaines at Thanksgiving holding the Turkey that Cook refused to serve. The one time he'd suffered through that hell was more than enough for him to know that a meeting with the Five Families wasn't as dangerous.
"Come on Jason, please, you just have to come. It's for a good cause and I really need you there for support."
Carly was looking good these days. She was perched on the arm of his couch in some red suit, fluffy hair and a blinding bright smile. He mentally referred to it as her lioness look. This was the Carly who could take on the world and dare anyone to challenge otherwise. If he blinked her image would blur with the same woman who took a baseball bat to a table of mobsters. These days she contented herself with running her hotel.
He just happened to like this Carly and it was good to see her looking so happy. She had been through a lot this past year, starting with her insanity with Sonny, climaxing at Michael's shooting and ending with Jax the dick. Now Carly dug her own hole sleeping with Sonny again and he wasn't excusing the things she had done but Jax stringing her along for months had pissed him off and if the fucker hadn't made up his mind, there would have been a problem.
"I know it's for a good cause," he released the usual long slow tempering breath, normal behavior for dealing with Carly and sat down on the chair across from her. He never would have guessed in a million years that Carly and Quartermaines would team up to fix General Hospital. That did not mean he was crazy enough to attend. He typically tried to avoid apocalyptic events no matter what his job title might imply otherwise.
"I actually came up with the idea for a costume party. You know something a little fun, especially how everything has been lately, topped by the toxins released and the hospital practically burning down. Port Charles could use a little brevity these days."
"I still don't understand how dressing up as Greek Gods relates to Valentine's Day and a GH benefit gala."
"Cupid?" She asked as if she were speaking to a small toddler who couldn't understand English. "Aphrodite, the goddess of love? Come on Jason, I know you've heard of them."
"Doesn't mean I want to dress up like them. Wait a minute, doesn't Cupid have a diaper?" He might not care about things like classical literature but that didn't mean he hadn't heard of the winged baby that floated around shooting arrows at people's asses. "There is no way in fucking hell I'm putting on a diaper. You could shoot me first."
"That's not exactly a decent threat with you, is it Jason?" She wiggled arched eyebrows teasingly. "But really, there are other, Greek deities you can come as, fully dressed ones I might add."
"You're not exactly inspiring me. So what's Jax coming as, the god of kangaroos?"
"Jason, that's not nice," but she was smiling which told him she didn't mind the insult to her husband. "We're doing well now, I promise you."
"Yeah, well he's still on my short list. I wouldn't advise him hurting you again."
"Jason, I played a big role in our problems. Jax had every right to be angry with me."
"Jax's feelings aren't my problem. Yours are."
Always ready to capitalize on an advantage she pressed on, "So if my feelings are important to you, then you'll come right. This benefit is going to raise a lot of money for GH. I know you already promised a donation but I'd like to see you there, Jason." And then she tossed out her ringer. "We're dedicating the new pediatrics neurosurgery ward in Michael's name."
Two sets of blue eyes met, one in consternation the other with typical Carlyesque innocence, meaning none at all, and he knew he was going to give in. She didn't even try to hide her glee either, as a smirk curved her lips. She knew she could always get to him with Michael. Anything else and he would have turned her down and not given it a second thought. There was no way in hell he would disrespect his son and not attend. He had precious few people in life that he loved. Michael was one of them.
"I hate you."
"I love you too Jason."
XXooXX
Friday, February 13th 9:30 p.m. "I still can't believe Carly talked you into going."
If Maxie Jones repeated that sentence one more time, he was going to chuck her bony ass out the balcony window. Spinelli would get a little pissed off that he did it, and well Mac Scorpio would throw him under the jail but it would be worth it. The blonde was more annoying than Carly at her finest.
And that was saying a lot.
Maxie and Spinelli were camped out on his sofa in front of his laptop for the evening complete with pizza and that orange soda he likes to drink. He had to wonder when his penthouse had become Romper Room for the young adults of Port Charles. First Lulu, then Georgie, then Nadine then Leyla and then Maxie. Fuck if Spinelli would stop calling himself the Jackal, he would be getting more ass than he was these days.
That thought brought to mind the mother of his child and he so didn't want to think about her.
"You will find, fair Maximista, that the Valkyrie's ability to finesse Stone Cold into situations that he would in otherwise conventional circumstances avoid. Much like yourself, blond one."
"You know that's one thing I've always admired about Carly. How she seems to wrap the men of Port Charles around her finger. Doesn't that bother you Jason, I mean, she is married and everything, so that means you're basically her boy toy."
"Maximista," Spinelli gratefully interrupted what could have been a long diatribe. "The Valkyrie and Stone Cold are only the most loyal of friends and confidants. And besides when I heard that the impending event would culminate in a dedication ceremony for the young Michael Corinthos Junior, I knew immediately that Stone Cold would be attending tomorrow night's gala. This is why the Jackal has rushed home, so that he might be of service to his mentor in choosing the appropriate apparel for the evening. "
"You know, you're lucky to have someone as smart as Spinelli looking out for you," Maxie rolled her eyes and brushed some imaginary speck off the computer hacker's shoulder. "I bet you don't even appreciate his efforts do you? You're probably sitting there all dark and broody, not wanting to bother with a costume. I wouldn't be surprised if you showed up in those rather boring jeans and black t-shirt. Don't you own any other clothes? I swear I saw you wearing that same t-shirt this past Tuesday."
Most people didn't realize it but Spinelli and Maxie were a match made in verbal hell. They both had diarrhea of the mouth. It just kept running and running and running.
"How about Hades, Stone Cold sir?" Spinelli typed furiously on his laptop for a few seconds then began again, "God of the underworld. His symbols are the bident, the Helm of Darkness and the three headed dog Cerberus."
"No," Maxie disagreed, "You can bet money Johnny and Lulu will go for the whole Hades and Persephone vibe. The whole Prince of darkness and his sweet innocent consort. It's really sickening when you think about it."
"Are the fair Maximista and Lulu not speaking with each other again this week?" Spinelli's concern was palpable. The hand he placed over Maxie's was covered by her other one and they stared into each other's eyes for several silent minutes delivering a overwhelming dose of sexual tension that he could have done without at the moment.
"She's still a little jealous about me and Johnny being together during the snow storm but really that was days ago, she should really get over it. Any way, I think Jason should go with Ares, that whole god of war thing is right up his alley."
"I'm afraid I must contradict, as I believe Mr. Corinthos, sir will be attending tomorrow's festivities as the deity of murder and bloodshed himself. And the dark Vixenella is accompanying him as Eris, the goddess of strife and discord."
He was wrong, Jason lifted a heavy white mug to his mouth to cover the choking laughter in his throat. Now that was a match made in Hell.
"How do you know that Spinelli?"
"Many citizens of our fair city have inquired of my services in locating the perfect Greek immortal figure that fits their personality. Such as the Scorpio-Drakes, who shall be attending tonight as Nike, the goddess of victory and Asclepius the god of healing. The Giambelli brothers as Alexiares and Anicetus, the twin guardians of Mount Olympus. The esteemed district attorney and mother of the goddess Alexis will arrive as the well received Athena, goddess of wisdom, war craft and reason. And many, many others."
"Speaking of Sam," Maxie practically bounced with excitement, "Did she tell you who she was going as?"
"She did but has bound the Jackal to a promise of silence, as she wishes her attire to be a surprise." Maxie looked like she wanted to protest but must have realized that nothing could break Spinelli from a promise once he gave his word. It was one of the hacker's best qualities.
"Fine, I won't ask. I'm just glad we already have our costumes. " Then she turned that pointed blue gaze in his direction. "Spinelli's going as Hermes, messenger of the gods and I'll be dazzling as Hermera, goddess of daylight and the sun."
"You most certainly will," Spinelli stared at his girlfriend with wide puppy dog eyes. If the boy had a tail it would probably be wagging furiously.
"Maybe Jason could be Hypnos, the god of sleep. He certainly has the perfect characteristics for it."
He guessed maybe the young couple had realized he hadn't said a word throughout the entire exchange.
Maybe it wasn't too late to leave the country.
XXooXX
Saturday, February 14th 10:00 pm
He had promised he would attend Carly's party. He hadn't promised what time he would arrive and how long he would stay.
In honor of his blonde best friend, he had a plan.
Get in, drop off his check, talk to a few people who would be able to prove he had attended tonight and then run like hell as soon as possible. It was a great plan as far as he was concerned.
He glanced around the room and found Elizabeth tucked into a corner with Lucky, both looking clean and pretty in white. She was probably some goddess of hearth and home and Lucky her hero Heracles. It was a little disconcerting to find the only emotion he felt was a mild sense of déjà vu. Hadn't they run this circus act years ago with the Luke and Laura clones finding their way back to each other? He loved Elizabeth and probably always would in a nice untouchable way, but seeing her over there looking all pristine and sweet was a big fucking wake up call.
They never would have made it together.
His life was dark and gritty. It was filled with blood and death. Danger and adrenaline. It was a life he had carved out for himself and there was no changing it. There was no leaving the mob until you were carried out in a body bag. Elizabeth Webber wasn't made for his life no matter how much she tried to make herself believe they could be together. He couldn't be upset that she was the mother of his son, for he adored Jake but shit, what the fuck had he been thinking?
Hindsight was a bitch.
"You have met at a loss, Jason."
The husky feminine voice from behind him startled him from internal musings of things best forgotten. As he turned around, many things happened at once. The need for a drink, preferably some strong and head clearing dried his throat. The pants he had allowed himself to be convinced to wear suddenly became quite uncomfortable in a very prominent area. And his hands began to itch.
It was an old affliction. One he hadn't experienced in quite some time but was always related to the woman before him. Fuck, if Sam McCall had wanted to make an entrance, she certainly had managed it.
Leather pants were on like slick black paint and matched with a black blouse that looked more like ribbons of sheer black material strategically placed on her torso exposing a sinful amount of skin and teasing a man with all the treasures that were just out of reach. Her dark hair had a just shagged look he knew all too well, whiskey toned eyes were smudged black, and her mouth smeared crimson. It was all topped off with black stilettos.
Those were his favorite black come fuck me shoes.
"I don't understand," he managed behind a throat that didn't seem quite ready to function properly.
"Well, what god are you supposed to be? I'm guessing something quite similar to mine as we're both dressed in black. Love those leather pants by the way. So which god are you masquerading as tonight."
"Erebus, god of darkness and shadow," he answered, still feeling uncomfortable in the silken black tunic trimmed in silver and leather pants that Maxie swore were the epitome of his deity.
"Well it must be kismet," she lifted a dark brow with amusement. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Nyx, goddess of darkness and the night."
XXooXX
Sunday, February 15th Noonish"So, I'm guessing Patron again."
Sam's sleep thickened voice had a sliver of something wild and hungry curl in his gut. If there was one thing Jason Morgan trusted, it was his gut. When Sam had opened her eyes he watched several emotions flicker across her face. The most interesting being amusement.
"We seem to have a weakness for Patron." Now that his head was clearing a bit more, he could remember dancing with Sam before she suggested they grab a room upstairs and have a drink away from the reunion of Port Charles beautiful couple.
There was a great memory of tossing some things off the hotel room desk and laying Sam across it. The image was accompanied by lots of moans and a few screams of pleasure. Inner child Jason, who often had long talks with 'little Stone Cold' wore a wicked grin of approval and was cheering for a hot shower and another round.
Or would that be a fourth round?
"So what does this mean?" He had to ask.
"Why does it have to mean anything Jason? You're single. I'm single and we have fabulous sex together. We always have. I just ended a relationship with Lucky and I'm not really looking for another one right now. All I want is to get my PI's license, get a few cases and have some fun."
"Fun?"
"Yeah, Jason. Fun. I'm so tired of being upset or sad. I'm tired of pretending to be something I'm not. I'm not a good girl. I don't want to be, I like a little danger in my life. I want to have fun. A little adrenaline, some action and adventure. Hell," she poked him in the chest and gave him a grin of mischief, "If you play your cards right, we might be able to have lots of fun together."
Fun sounded good. Inner child Jason gave a shout of approval. Well that settled it. "I'm still working on keeping Spinelli out of prison. So I might be looking for a PI to help me gather information. How long would it take for you to get your license."
"Faster with your help."
"Well, McCall. Let's have some fun."
Fin