Summary: Jason Morgan's life is about to change. Whether he likes it or not.

He meets someone who makes him stop and take stock of his life. She's cute, got a smart mouth, a bad attitude, and somehow she managed to crawl into his heart and make him want to be a better man.

Did he mention that she was eleven years old?

Oh, yeah, falling for her teacher probably isn't a good idea either?

Rated: NC-17

Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just like writing about them

Thanks Annie Lennox for the Inspiration

Something To Believe In

Little Bird

She had very few possessions. The ragged backpack that was slung over her shoulder contained her only other change of clothes, five pairs of underwear and five of those little training bras that she had bought from Wal-Mart when she realized that she was starting to poke through her t-shirts.

That had been a bitch to workout. She had to live off those lousy ramen cups for a month in order to buy the damned things. Yet she knew that it was best not to draw unwanted attention to herself. The Grisham boys from the docks didn't care how old pussy was when they were in a mean mood. Therefore, it was best to blend as best she could. She hadn't had ramen since. Could barely stand to look at the damned things without feeling sick to her stomach.

She had a thing about being clean, so inside the bag was a toothbrush, paste and soap that she lifted once a week from a drug store on the corner. It was a little game she played with the owner, Mr. Corbin.

He knew she didn't have the money to afford the stuff, so she walked in and pretended to have a look around, stole what she needed and bought a candy bar. She always could dig up seventy-five cent for a king-size Milky Way, her absolute favorite. Once the gray haired man tried to make friends, but she had cut that off fast.

The second an adult became your friend they tried to shove you back into the system for your own good. That was the last place she was going back to. Therefore, they kept their relationship simple. She stole her supplies and he turned his head and took the little four dollar hit. It was a pretty good relationship all around in her opinion.

Also inside her bag was her favorite book, Little Women. There was something about the sisters that appealed to her though she would never admit it aloud. She supposed she had once had a family, but after spending nine years in foster care, that memory had long since faded.

There was a jacket that she knew would need to be replaced soon. Winter had been hard, damned hard, and there were days when she almost went back to the Courtney Matthews Shelter, then she would remember and shove that thought off. The streets were better than some of those places she was stuffed in. If she was cold, St. Bartholomew's over on Pine usually had a hidey-hole just right for her to spend the night. Father Coats was another one of those do-good souls, so she always had to wait until after dark before sneaking in.

A day spent in the cold winter of Port Charles could be dangerous. She had learned to walk the malls, the museums on free days and the library until sundown. If anyone stopped her, she would give them the wide-eyed innocent look and say her mother was in the restroom with her little sister changing her. Worked like a charm, because people really didn't want to get involved in your personal drama. They just liked to satisfy their own guilty feelings so they could sleep at night.

You learned fast if you wanted to survive on the street alone.

Lucky her, it was spring now and the weather was nice, except for those days it rained.

And that's what it was going to do today; she looked up at the cloudy sky and could smell the storm coming in off the water. She adjusted the cheap earphones that lead to the CD player tucked safely into her backpack. Annie Lennox was singing her favorite song, her theme song, because there were times when she wished she could just fly away like the little bird she spoke of. Rushing so that the faded jeans and the red v-neck tee she wore wouldn't get wet in the coming downpour, she headed to the little diner on the corner where she usually scrounged up dinner if she was lucky.

Today she had lifted the wallet off some schmuck at the art museum that stopped her in the contemporary section and tried to have her escorted from the premises. Rather than make a fuss she went voluntarily, but took his wallet for ruining a perfectly nice day for her.

"Dinner's on you," she glanced down at the ID, "Ric Lansing." She snorted and tossed the ID in the garbage can, as well as the credit cards, since he would have cancelled those the second he realized she had picked his pocket. She took moment to glance at the cute little family portrait, rolled her eyes at the Stepford family and chucked it as well. The one hundred dollars in cash would come in handy though.

The little bell over the door jingled, signaling her entrance and she glanced around the diner, caught the open booth over in the corner and immediately rushed over. It wasn't as busy as some nights that she managed to come in, but there were enough families that would make this booth a prime seat. She didn't want a table. It drew attention. Why would a young girl be sitting in Kelly's at this time of day by herself? Why wasn't she at home where she belonged? A booth made it easy for her to be ignored. Just how she liked it.

A perky waitress walked over to take her order and she almost rolled her eyes. Georgie, her nametag read. Georgie had barely managed to tear her eyes off the hot Latin guy working behind the counter long enough to realize that she had a customer at her table. "Welcome to Kelly's what can I get you?"

"Bacon double cheese burger with everything, onion rings, and an orange Crush." She answered without looking up. When she realized that Georgie hadn't walked away, she glanced back at her muffin face and she was frowning. "Is there a problem?"

"Well, aren't you going to spoil your dinner?"

"Did I ask for your concern? This is my dinner." She stuck the earphones back in her ear, listening to the repeating song and ending the conversation. Great another do-gooder. This one barely looked older than she did and she certainly had that suburban 'I've got the perfect life' look going, so Miss Georgie wouldn't know what her life was like. The tug on her t-shirt had her releasing a slow breath and rolling her eyes. "What!"

"Will your parents be joining you for dinner?" she heard her over the music, but she pretended like she didn't.

"What!" she repeated, then pulled the earphones out. If she was going to be nagged, she might as well enjoy herself. "What I didn't hear you?"

"I said," Georgie took a breath, "Are your parents joining you for dinner?"

"Pop's at work on the docks with my big brother," she lied easily, putting just enough disgust in her voice to make the girl flinch with guilt. "I'm here for dinner by myself. He said that wouldn't be a problem, but if it is, I can always go to McDonalds. They won't give me a hard time about buying a lousy cheeseburger."

"No, no," Georgie waved hastily, "No, it's fine. I'll be right back with your order."

"Thank you," she rolled her eyes and put the plugs back in.

Save her from do-gooders.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jason Morgan walked into the diner for his evening meal after leaving his office at the coffee warehouse pretty disgusted. Normally he would have returned to his penthouse and had the meal delivered, but he found he didn't want to go back alone tonight. Carly and Patrick had invited him over for dinner but he had turned them down claiming he had business.

His best friends said they understood, though he could tell from the tone of Carly's voice that she didn't like it. Nevertheless, she didn't give him a hard time. He reminded Carly that he was coming to see the kids on Saturday so that went a long way toward appeasing her anger.

He glanced around Kelly's noting the slight crowd and grabbed the empty table near the back. He was hungry and all he wanted was to get the meal over and done without the not so polite stares of the upstanding citizens of Port Charles. Usually he could care less about the opinions of the hypocrites that judged him, but tonight after a screwed up shipment, the alarming message he erased from his sister Emily and the tense meeting with the five families, he just wasn't in the mood.

Since taking over his former best friend's territory, he had changed things to suit him. It was nice to get out of the petty ante drug business, it left a nasty taste in his mouth. Sure, running guns wasn't exactly noble, but the cops could certainly agree that the Port Charles streets were a bit cleaner since he took charge. Besides, his merchandise never touched Port Charles anyway and everyone knew that drugs weren't allowed in the Morgan territory anymore.

He could never understand how Sonny could traffick drugs when those same drugs were being sold to kids the same age as his oldest son Michael. His thirst for power had pulled Sonny into the drug trade as a way to make more money and gain more territory. Nothing Jason said could sway him from that path and it had caused a ragged tear in their friendship.

As Sonny's former enforcer, it had been his responsibility to maintain control despite his personal feelings. Then Sonny went sniffing after his sister. After that shit went down, whatever relationship between them had been destroyed. Now Sonny and Emily lived over in Spain married with twins and responsible for pulling themselves out of whatever garbage they found themselves in. Except Emily didn't seem to get the message and kept calling him.

Yeah well, he tried to warn her. She made her bed, let her lay in it. His days of playing the greatest American hero were done.

"Hey Jason."

He looked up at the friendly greeting, seeing Liz Webber who pushed her son Cameron in his stroller. She was still in her hospital scrubs, but she looked tired, which told him she must have come here directly from work. "Hey," he gestured to the seat opposite him. "You want to sit for a minute?"

A weary smile touched her mouth, "I would, but I called in my order from the hospital, I'm just here to pick up. Lucky is meeting us at home for dinner." She pushed a wayward strand of hair from her face, "I haven't seen you in a while." Not since Emily and Sonny's wedding, but she left that fact unstated, "How have you been?"

"Good," he nodded, his life was certainly less stressful. "Patrick told me you joined his surgical team."

"Patrick does good work," she smiled and he could see that this career shift made her happy. "Though he has the ego the size of a third world country."

Jason laughed, knowing that truer words hadn't been spoken. The arrogant neurosurgeon had become one of his good friends since marrying Carly. Besides, anyone who could keep Carly in line unquestionably deserved a large portion of his respect. Liz glanced up at the counter and one of the waitresses waved her over.

"That's mine," she turned back with a smile, "It's good to see you Jason."

"You too," he raised his hand in good-bye, making her little boy giggle and wave back. He watched Liz collect her order then leave, the same waitress rushing over to his table when she was done placing the money in the cash register. He ordered a bacon double cheeseburger, onion rings and a large Pepsi and she scribbled it down and scurried back to the kitchen much to his amusement.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After stuffing herself with her dinner, she reluctantly left the cash on the table to cover the bill and stood to leave. If she hadn't been so full, if she didn't carry the bag with her two apple turnovers for her breakfast tomorrow, she would have stiffed the nosy Georgie waitress for the bill. Twenty dollars less her nice stash, she figured she needed to find a place to sleep for the night before the rain got too bad.

As she walked to the door, one of her earphones fell out and she looked down to stuff it back in and slammed into a solid wall. Annoyance, had her looking up to give whoever she just bumped into the sharp edge of her tongue. As her gaze slowly traveled upward, to greet icy blue eyes almost exactly the same shade as hers, the retort crawled back down her throat.

"Sorry," she instantly apologized. A year on the streets had taught her there were people that you could bullshit, people you could insult, and people you could walk on. Whoever the hell this guy was, he was none of those people.

He blinked once, then nodded carefully, as if testing her apology for sincerity, "My fault, I wasn't looking where I was going."

He stepped outside leaving her standing there, and she glanced down at the wallet that her hand had automatically nipped. "Oh, shit," she groaned, closing her fist over the leather and feeling her heart start to slam against her ribs. She had two choices, return it and say she found it on the ground. Or keep it. She sneaked a peak, saw the neat roll of twenties and snorted. Like hell she was giving this back.

She waited a few seconds, then glanced out of the window to make sure he was gone then opened the door to sneak out.

XXXXXXXXXX

Jason reached out and grabbed the girl's arm just as she stepped out of Kelly's. He was surprised she didn't scream, but he knew a street kid would never draw attention to herself. This one looked pretty well kept up. She had obviously learned that blending in kept her unnoticed by adults. Her clothes were clean, and she had a vise grip on that backpack on her shoulder. Long light brown hair was pulled into a ponytail and those wide blue eyes probably would have fooled the next person so they wouldn't feel the hand that slipped into their pocket and removed the wallet.

He wasn't the next person.

"I think you have something of mine."

Her eyes widened, and then she hastily dug into a side pocket of her bag and snatched out the wallet and shoved it at him. "I'm sorry," she shot back, though he could hear the touch of anger in her voice, there was more fear. "I didn't even mean to," she broke off, realizing that she had just admitted to stealing his wallet. "Look all the money is there, I didn't have a chance to take any out."

Jason took the wallet and flipped it open, sure enough, the money was there just like she said. "If I let you go, will you run?"

"Why shouldn't I, so you can call the cops?"

He chuckled softly to himself, wondering if she could understand the irony of her statement. Evidently, this one hadn't been on the streets long enough to know who he was by sight. "I'm not going to call the cops. Now will you run?"

She looked him over, trying to see if was telling the truth probably, then lifted her shoulder nonchalantly. "Fine, whatever."

Jason slowly released the grip on her arm, and she quickly took two steps back, putting some understandable distance between them. Just enough so that she could run if she wanted, then she stopped and shoved her hands into her pockets. "So what do you want?"

"Where are you sleeping tonight?" He glanced up at the rain coming down knowing that it was going to get worse.

"I'm going home. My pop and my big brother are at work, so I was just here for dinner, that's all." The lie was smooth and easy. He had to wonder how many times she had to say it before it started sounding so truthful. Then found that it saddened him a bit that she had to protect herself that way.

"Look," he released a small breath. Didn't he just tell himself that he was out of the hero business. Besides, the last thing he needed was to involve himself in some street kid's life. Yet the rain was cold and the wind had picked up. "Why don't you let me take you to the Matthews shelter?"

The last thing he wanted was to go over to his dead ex-wife's office. The way she violently shook her head, it seemed to be the last thing she wanted too. "Fine," he pulled out the receipt for his dinner and a pen from his pocket then scribbled a note on the back. "Go down to the Morgan warehouse, tell Joey I said to take you to my office and let you crash for the night."

"Morgan warehouse, are you crazy? Do you know who owns the Morgan warehouse?"

"Yeah. I do."

XXXXXXX

She looked into the amused eyes of the man whose wallet she had just stolen and realized who he was. How could she be so stupid? Jason Morgan was the most powerful mob boss in Port Charles and she stole his wallet? He could make an insignificant bug like her disappear without even thinking twice about it and here he was offering her a place to sleep for the night?

"Why?"

"Because kid," he shrugged, glanced skyward and looked back into her eyes. That direct stare was everything she had heard it to be. Intimidating as hell. "It's going to get cold tonight with the storm coming in."

"You don't have to help me," she said softly, knowing there was no sense in trying to lie to those piercing eyes. "I can take care of myself." And she had been doing a pretty good job so far.

"I'm sure you can," he nodded, "Just humor me. I'll call Joey and tell him it's okay, but you give him the note anyway. Alright?"

Slowly she took the note from his outstretched hand, folded it and placed it in her pocket. "Yeah, alright." Far be it for her to look a gift horse in the mouth, besides he was right. It was getting cold and the rain was gradually seeping through her t-shirt.

She watched as he pulled the wad she had been admiring out of his wallet, folded it in half and passed it to her. "If you need some help, just come back to the warehouse and ask for me okay?"

"Okay," she murmured, accepting the cash and shoving it into her backpack. She would put it away when she was alone. "Thank you Mr. Morgan."

He shook his head, "Just call me Jason okay."

"Okay," she nodded, blinking back the wetness in her eyes and calling herself stupid for crying like a little baby. Just because this was the first person in her entire life to do something nice for her without expecting nothing in return, didn't meant she had to set all sappy and sentimental. "I'm Lila."

She watched him close his eyes and groan. She thought she heard him mumble something like, "Oh, fuck me." Then he took a deep breath and released it slowly.

"Lila?"

"Yeah, at least that's what they always called me," she shrugged, not knowing if that was her real name or not.

There was no way in hell he was letting her out of his sight.

The memory of Lila Quartermaine would haunt him for the rest of his days if he let this young girl who looked like she couldn't be more than ten or eleven out of his sight. Especially when she watched him with eyes that looked so much like his own.

She looked old enough to be his daughter, though he knew he had no kids. The fact that she had his Grandmother's name was like a sign that this girl had come into his life for a reason.

Now he just had to figure out what that reason was.