So, this is my new Dynasty Fallon/Liam fic, I hope you like it. A foray into another fandom if you follow this show of course.

With or Without You: Part 1

Burj Al Arab Jumeirah Beach Hotel – Dubai, UAE – local time 11:47pm

"Do you have a reservation Mrs…" the curious employee at the front desk inquired, his eyes briefly dropping to scan her all white ensemble.

"Do I look like someone's wife to you?" She huffed. Maybe it was uncalled for but she'd travelled through more time zones than necessary and, to top it all off, the humidity was messing with her perfectly curled tresses.

"I'm sorry Miss," he stumbled, "I just assumed with that ensemble…"

"Can't a girl wear a white dress without all the damn assumptions?" She demanded. Sure, she was still poured into her fitted, Vera Wang gown but she hadn't had much time to change let alone think about her next move. Telling the pilot on her private jet to fly to Dubai was as much as she could handle for the moment.

"Of course," he apologised, bowing his head slightly. "Do you have a reservation, Ma'am?"

"Of course I don't," she offered, not quite expecting any person to ask that of Fallon Carrington even in the United Arab Emirates. "Okay, I'm tired and yes, not to prove your earlier point, but I just ran out on my wedding. The least you could do is steer me in the right direction and by that I mean my ex-husband's suite." She couldn't miss the way his eyebrows raised sharply at that comment.

"So, let me get this straight," he murmured, his eyes frantically searching his computer screen. "You almost got married but are here to find your ex-husband?" Fallon wasn't expecting quite this much judgment this late at night.

"Isn't that what I just said?" She asked, rubbing her temples slowly. "And while I'm at it, I also need a massage and some valium, it's been a trying day."

"I can only imagine," he observed. "So, uh, your ex-husband, what room is he in?"

"Do you think I'd be asking if I knew?" She scoffed. "Given this is the only seven-star hotel in Dubai I assumed he'd be here and, quite frankly, if he's gone somewhere else I might need to question his standards and completely reconsider this unpredictable excursion."

He looked at her perplexed. "Can I get you some water?"

"The only clear liquid I drink is vodka," she growled. "But we'll order that later. His name is Liam Ridley." He scanned his bookings, given the blank stare Fallon knew she'd picked the wrong alias. "Try Jack Lowden." Another search proved futile. "Or put them all together for Jack Liam Ridley Lowden?"

"How about that water?" He offered and she couldn't miss the way his eyes flickered towards security.

"I'm Fallon Carrington," she insisted, raising her voice as only she could. "I want to see your manager." He paused briefly before moving away, albeit reluctantly.

"Can't we go anywhere without you throwing a tantrum?" He whined. "I mean just once, it's so unattractive, Fallon."

"I'm sorry I'm ruining your day, or night," she huffed. "And last time I checked, you work for me but have been fussing with the cases at the concierge station while I've been subjected to Dubai's biggest smart ass."

"I had to check my Prada, rhinestone loafers were still intact after the flight," Sam replied defensively. "And last time I checked you could handle yourself, sis."

"Don't call me that," she groaned.

"But you are…"

"But the way you say it makes me feel so normal and old," she complained. "Last time I checked you were the married one and I was…"

"How about we talk about your current relationship status and that explosive turn of events later and after some much needed valium?"

"I need to find him," she murmured sadly. "I wouldn't have run out on my wedding and travelled this far otherwise, but that idiot receptionist has it in for me."

"Maybe this calls for some undercover measures," Sam offered excitedly. "I could inspect the premises and find Liam, I have a brilliant radar for gorgeous men."

"On second thought," she shook her head, looking around before making her way behind the desk. "Just keep watch, I'm going to search the reservation list."

"I'm impressed," Sam smiled. "Usually you just stamp your feet, yell loudly and throw a tantrum so this is an improvement."

"You realise I can fire you at any minute, right?" She replied through gritted teeth, her eyes scanning the names but nothing was jumping out and by the way Sam was flapping his arms and the noise she could hear emanating from the back office Fallon knew her time was almost done.

Her finger stopped suddenly, there was something about that name that grabbed her attention. She noted the room number and resumed her position for the approaching manager and smug side-kick. Before a word could be said, she slapped her passport, Black Amex Credit Card and an impressive wad of Dirham currency on the desk. "I need two suites; my assistant will help you with the arrangements."

Sam gave her a puzzled look before turning to fill out the obligatory paperwork. Fallon stalked towards the elevator, stopping the doors before closing and stepping inside. The couple inside gave her a curious glance before selecting their floor, she was glad that after the past few days something was finally going right and she didn't need to intervene.

Leaning against the back wall, Caroline closed her eyes planning just what she was going to say but nothing came and suddenly she felt stupid. The elevator dinged signalling his floor and she almost didn't make her way out, Fallon was that nervous.

This wasn't her.

At all.

But she knew there was a reason why she'd made the mad dash out of Atlanta and to Dubai. She just hoped she could explain it to Liam and herself at the same time.

The number 907 was emblazoned on her brain and she made her way almost in a trance to that door. Inhaling sharply, Fallon steeled her nerves before knocking, albeit lightly. As time passed, she refused to exhale the disappointment growing by the silence, until the door flew open.

Naked, bar a white towel slung low on his hips, Fallon was momentarily speechless. This wasn't how she saw things going given she had to formulate words and an explanation for her sudden appearance. But they didn't come. His blue eyes met hers before moving lower briefly.

"Am I supposed to be congratulating you?" He murmured, his eyes slightly downcast. "Or do you usually visit international hotels in dress-up, Fallon?" The way he said her name almost broke her resolve completely.

"I came to see you," she began slowly. "But I'm not gonna lie, the service in this hotel is terrible. The receptionist had the nerve to judge my choices in life, and wouldn't tell me your room number. And I even explained that you were my ex-husband but obviously it wasn't enough. I can tell you right now he won't be getting a tip."

"I'm sure he'll be mortified," he said, a slight smile tugging at the edge of his lips. "But how did you find my room?"

"Trust me, I covered all the usual aliases," she teased. "But what can I say, the name William Thacker stuck with me."

"Wow, says the girl who reverse quoted Notting Hill to me before her grandfather's funeral and swore she'd never seen it?" He smirked knowingly. Fallon wanted to hate his reaction, but it was the most gorgeous thing she'd seen especially since he was so barely clothed. "But it seems as if Julia Roberts is a running theme in your life given your current Runaway Bride attire."

"Now, that is a long story and for the record I hated that film…"