A/N: I have no rights or affiliation with the characters presented within this piece

Chapter 2: Orange Soda and War I

"Spinelli!" Jason was speaking with anxiety as he urged the young man to wake up. He had unceremoniously pushed himself in between Magnum and the unconscious boy. He lifted Spinelli's head gently and placed it in his lap as he bent over him in concern and with the additional intent of blocking the slanting sun's glare from his face. "You need to wake up…that's right…" He said, a rare smile coming to the fore as Spinelli's eyes fluttered vaguely open.

Magnum was standing next to Higgins as they split their combined focus between regretful glances at the now distant-though still lovely-fleeing behind of the Lady Madonna and worried looks at the slowly awakening young man lying in the sand at their feet. Magnum looked at the picture still clutched in Spinelli's hand and with a meaningful tilt towards the photograph sent a questioning look at Higgins. The major domo simply stared back at Magnum, his face an inscrutable mask that explained why he did so well in their Saturday night poker sessions.

"Sto…Stone Cold," Spinelli was disoriented, unsure of what he was doing lying in the sand, his head in Jason's lap while two strangers stared down at him intently. "Did…something happen? Did the Jackal cause a disruption?" As usual he assumed the blame for any set of circumstances, even those he didn't fully comprehend. He struggled to sit up but he fell back down, his head spinning with the effort.

"No…no, just stay still, Spinelli!" Jason commanded him, his voice rough with relief. "You didn't do anything except faint. How do you feel?"

All of sudden, Jason hated everything around him-the sand, the ocean, these two men that had entangled them in their chase and by extension-their lives. He was in an alien environment where Spinelli had fainted and he don't know if he was okay or ill and if it were the latter, then he wasn't sure what to do, where to go as he would be if this were Port Charles.

This time Spinelli, against Jason's better judgment, managed to sit up. "How did the Jackal manage to find himself in this current water-logged state?" He asked in wonderment as he looked down at his soaking wet, brightly patterned outfit.

"Don't you remember, kid?" Magnum had crouched down next to Spinelli and was looking directly into his lost sea green eyes. Something about their intrinsic naiveté and innocence resonated within him and he felt an unexpectedly fierce feeling of protectiveness engulf him. The kid reminded him of himself, well before he had been engaged in warfare and come to learn certain bitter truths about the world.

He spared a glance at Jason and saw his own expression mirrored in the grim planes of his face. "You intentionally tripped me up in the surf. Look," he twisted the tail ends of his own Aloha shirt, producing a dribble of water. "See, I'm all wet too…" He gave the boy the full force of his patented Magnum dimpled smile and received a shy, uncertain little glimmer of a grin in return.

Recognition dawned in Spinelli's face and he looked around the assemblage noting that there was one lovely, albeit deceptive, individual missing. "Where's the Lady Madonna?" He asked in puzzlement, twisting his body toward Jason. "Stone Cold, you had her in your steely grasp. Perforce why ever did you release her?" Then he groaned as he realized what must have happened. "Then her unhappy vanishing is indeed the fault of the Jackal. You let her go when I pusillanimously collapsed…" He looked down at the sand miserably. He clasped his arms around his legs, unable to meet the eyes of any of the three men surrounding him. Ashamed that his weakness had cost them their long sought prize, he chastised himself for his unmanly show of 'fainting'.

"Spinelli," Jason reached out a hand and put it on his shoulder, there was a twitch as he made contact but the boy didn't raise his head to look at his mentor. "You can't help fainting; it's not your fault. I don't care about that woman…thief whatever. I just was worried about you." "Still am," he amended to himself as he kept his hand where it was and wished he were built differently so that he were able to offer some more substantial form of comfort.

"Yes, lad," Higgins was speaking for the first time since Spinelli had fainted. "It isn't a sign of any kind of weakness to faint. Why I remember once when I was on patrol in North Africa…"

"Higgins!" Magnum groaned, cutting sharply across the older man's reminiscence. He knew they would never be able to stop him once he started. "Spinelli can hear your story later. Right now I think it's important to get him up off the sand and decide what to do next." He suited his actions to his words, standing up and reaching both hands down to Spinelli he helped pull him up to an upright position, Jason supporting the boy's back as he came to a shaky stance.

"Quite," Higgins murmured as he stepped forward to assist the pale young man who was swaying as he tried to readjust to the change in stance and the sudden redistribution of blood throughout his body. Before he could wrap an arm around Spinelli's waist his position was usurped by Jason who sent him a glowering look that clearly indicated Higgins should back off.

"When was the last time you ate anything, kid?" Magnum asked, ignoring Jason and peering intently at Spinelli's pinched and pallid face, noting the dark rings under his eyes.

"We had breakfast didn't we Stone Cold?" He turned to the taciturn, frowning blonde man for confirmation. "In Port Charles," he added for additional clarification.

"Port Charles, where's that?" Magnum asked trying to place the city on the mainland, he hadn't heard of it.

"Port Charles…Port Charles…" Higgins was ruminating to himself. Suddenly he jerked his head up and looked at Jason accusingly. "Do you mean to say the last time you and this young man had a meal was this morning in New York?" He was incredulous as he did the math, there was at least a six hour time difference and then with travel added in…

Jason actually had the grace to look abashed as he nodded his head. "Yeah, we both slept on the flights and then I didn't think…"

Magnum and Higgins were each taken aback as Spinelli suddenly looked at both of them with spirit, his eyes flashing. "It's not Stone Cold's fault! He always…always," through the repetition he made his loyalty clear," looks out for his grasshopper. To speak against Stone Cold is to speak against the Jackal." The efficacy of his adamant declaration was somewhat compromised as he again due to his fatigue and hunger lost his balance and Jason caught him and held him upright, a tiny, tight smile of pride hovering over his features.

"Okay, okay, take it easy kid," Magnum held his hands up in a gesture of appeasement. "I'm sure that…uh…Stone Cold, Jason, here takes real good care of you. Still, it doesn't alter the fact that you probably fainted because of the sun and the running and not having any food in you. So, let's fix that problem."

Appeased, Spinelli's plain but strangely engaging face lit up once again as he smiled at Magnum's straightforward speech, "The Jackal would not be averse to the opportunity to partake of some sustenance with his Master and his newfound acquaintances. Much chagrined as he is to have cost them their honest quarry."

Jason broke in, "Actually, we were on our way to the King Kamehameha Club to meet a friend of a friend for dinner before," he gestured vaguely in the direction his lovely erstwhile prisoner had fled, "we were sidetracked."

"Excellent," Higgins interjected, he didn't know why but he wasn't ready just yet to let these two escape his orbit. There was something in particular about the younger man that quite intrigued him and he thought there might be hidden depths to his much less open companion as well. "For that is where we were when this little contretemps occurred and the chase began." He waved his wallet slightly as a visual aid to the event he was referencing. "What say we all walk that way together and thereby make sure that young Spinelli here meets with no further mishap."

Spinelli blushed, hating to be the center of undesired attention, especially this particular notice which-as it always seemed to be-was focused on some innate weakness of his. Stone Cold had also gone hours without eating but did he trip up the wrong man and then ignominiously faint? No, he pursued the felon, the wrong doer and successfully caught her only to lose her moments later due to the Jackal's inability to man up.

"The Jackal does not wish to cause any further trouble to his fellow wayfarers," he mumbled as he stepped away from Jason's supporting arm, determined to literally stand on his own two feet. The uneven sand, however, contrived to trip him up once again, but he managed to right himself without the aid of a watchful Jason.

"What trouble, kid?" Magnum said lightly, seeking to defuse the situation that had somehow become emotionally charged. "As Higgins said, we have to go back anyway and we might as well go together and make sure you find it okay. Anyway, I don't know about you, but I'd like to get out of these wet clothes." He looked at Spinelli's build with a critical eye. "It looks to me like my friend Ric should have something to fit you. You look about the same size. He manages the King Kamehameha." By now Magnum was simply rambling, and it worked. Both Spinelli and Jason had relaxed and relinquished their hard held respective grasps on embarrassment and suspicion.

"Okay, sounds good, thanks," Jason said grudgingly. He didn't mind having someone local around to help with Spinelli if it were needed. He knew his friend trusted too easily and while he thought there might be some secrets embedded here, he didn't sense anything but genuine goodwill and a desire to help emanating from the two men. "You should return that picture to Mr. Higgins," he added gently, as he pointed to the photograph still tightly clutched in Spinelli's left hand.

"Oh, of course," he hadn't really forgotten the photo; he had just pushed it temporarily out of his consciousness. He raised his arm, it felt leaden with denial, and reluctantly, with a last longing look at woman encased within, handed the photograph back to Higgins. He swallowed and said, "The Jackal fervently hopes he hasn't damaged the memento…"

"Not at all," Higgins said heartily as he gave a little tug to get Spinelli to relinquish the photograph. He momentarily thought of letting the boy keep it, but with an internal pang of self condemnation realized that he wasn't quite ready to be that selfless or noble to someone, who for all intents and purposes, was still a stranger, no matter how much he didn't seem to be. "I appreciate your rescuing it." The transaction was complete and they exchanged small polite smiles that belied the currents which pulsed between them.

"Okay, that's settled then," Magnum said brightly, sounding bizarrely like a cruise director with a dazzling smile to match. He swung Spinelli around and proceeded to brush the sand, a souvenir from his recent recumbent sojourn, off his back. "Let's go kid. We'll let the two heroes discuss their victory while you can answer some questions of mine." He slung his arm affectionately across the much slighter and shorter young man's shoulders and his voice drifted back to Jason and Higgins. "Some interesting names you use there kid-Stone Cold, Jackal, Grasshopper, Master…Tell me about 'em…"

Higgins sighed theatrically as he smiled apologetically at Jason, "Magnum is something of an unstoppable force but I assure you he is a good man, one of the best I have ever known actually. Just don't breathe a word of it to him," he speared Jason with a piercing look of camaraderie, "Your young friend is in good hands there."

"Spinelli certainly has taken to him as well," Jason wasn't sure how he felt about that development.

There was an unfamiliar sensation in his heart, he didn't know exactly what to call it, but as much as he could tell, Magnum did genuinely seem to like Spinelli. Jason just didn't appreciate how readily Spinelli had responded to him. He didn't like seeing that same devotional shine in his eyes usually reserved for his self-proclaimed Master when he looked up at the big man with the flashing smile. The look which said he could do no wrong. That particular look was supposed to be reserved solely for Jason Morgan and it certainly wasn't meant to be egregiously transferred to some beach bum in an overly loud shirt, Aloha state or not.

As they followed the two in the lead, Higgins scrutinized the play of emotions over Jason's face as he watched Spinelli and Magnum. There was irritation, jealously and even pain visible. They wouldn't have been obvious to anyone else, but Higgins was an expert at reading body language and Jason's narrowed eyes, clenched fists and angry sand kicking stride spoke volumes to his observant companion.

Yet it was Higgins who was caught off guard when Jason looked at him and asked in a calm, conversational tone, "Mind telling me who the woman in that photograph is?"

Spinelli ducked his head as Magnum asked his cheerful question about the names. He wished his eccentricities hadn't so quickly caught the notice of this large exuberant man for whom he had developed an instantaneous liking. He sighed to himself; it was always a crapshoot whether or not people accepted him for who he really was. That was why the approbation of Stone Cold and Maximista was so important to him, secondary only to the air he breathed.

"I give people appellations…um nicknames, I don't even think about it. Jason is Stone Cold and the Master for all he has taught and continues to teach me. I myself am the Jackal and the grasshopper to his Master, his acolyte in all things," Spinelli waited with bated breath for guffaws of laughter or a confused look of incomprehension or just the deadening effect of an astonished, "I see…" when that was the farthest thing from the truth.

None of that happened, instead Magnum's reaction was entirely unexpected, "I like it! You've got style or is that panache?" He responded enthusiastically as he gave Spinelli a look of the utmost curiosity. "What nickname, err… appellation comes to mind for me?" He waggled his eyebrows expressively as he waited eagerly for Spinelli's response.

"Um," Spinelli was startled, he couldn't remember anyone actually coming to him and asking for one of his sobriquets, most people found the habit irritating or only tolerated it at best. "It isn't something that I do with forethought or upon request. It is an identifier that comes to mind after I have noted and internalized the particular character traits exhibited by a given individual."

"I get it," Magnum's interest was entirely unabashed as he absorbed what Spinelli had said. "You need to observe the person, know something about them before giving them the perfect nickname. You're a damn good judge of character kid, I gotta tell ya, 'Stone Cold' for that guy back there," he gestured with his thumb over his shoulder towards Higgins and Jason trudging in the sand behind them, "As far I can tell, it's dead on!" He beamed with full-fledged approbation at the insight demonstrated by his brand new friend.

Higgins was taken aback by Jason's forthright inquiry, the fact that he had just bluntly inquired into something so intensely personal. Not even Magnum, ill-behaved lout that he often was, had ever trespassed so blatantly into Higgins' privacy. Still, he knew why the question had been posed, it wasn't about Jason's curiosity. Higgins sensed that unlike most people this silent, stalwart man walking next to him possessed none. No, he had asked the question out of concern and more than that-out of a sense of fear. Each of the three men knew without a doubt that it was the photograph and nothing else-not fatigue, not hunger, not heat stroke-which had precipitated Spinelli's fainting spell.

They had let the boy have his subterfuge, each for their own reasons. Magnum, Higgins knew, had chosen the path of least resistance. He was intending to use his not inconsiderable charms to get the boy to trust him and eventually open up to him about his connection with the picture. Higgins knew he was doing it for all the right reasons-or at least mostly. He had taken to the boy and wanted to make sure that he was all right. Then again he knew the picture had come from Higgins' wallet and, as much as they fought and bickered like some old married couple, Magnum had Higgins' back when it mattered and vice-versa.

Magnum was smart enough to know that Jason's straightforward approach, a direct question, would be met by Higgins' formidable imperviousness. He would only reap a sneer of reproach or a raised eyebrow indicating his distaste for Magnum's lack of manners and a silent underlining of his inability to traverse the moat he had created around his thoughts and feelings, at least when the drawbridge was up and securely latched. No, Magnum knew better. Instead, he was going to enter the castle with the scullery boy, through the agency of that enigmatic young man. It was Spinelli who was the true Sphinx. It was he who already had somehow managed to entwine himself in Higgins' thoughts and what was even worse-his heart, who held the key to the mystery currently afoot.

Higgins knew he had more information than either Jason or Magnum. The woman in the picture was known to him, was part of his colorful and scattered past. Truth be told, hers was the only photograph to be given the privilege of being carried on his person and that meant something, in reality it meant everything. Yet, Higgins had a chink to his armor, he wasn't omnipotent and he craved information every bit as much as Jason and Magnum did.

He desperately needed to know more about the gangly boy with the thick, untamable brown hair, the pellucid sea green eyes and a heart which openly sought truth and justice. His was a soul that ran pure as a crystalline river. Anyone could see those qualities in him if they but took the time to look upon encountering him. Magnum certainly had, Higgins couldn't remember the last time he had seen his friend so completely and immediately disarmed by someone.

Then there was the enigmatic Jason Morgan, the most unlikely companion to such a boy as could be envisioned. Yet, here he was foursquare and evident. It was clear that were someone to come after the lad in any way, be it harsh words, be it intent to harm, they would have to go through this man, this self-appointed guardian who took to his task with a grim tenacity underlain by the vulnerability that only love could bestow.

So, Higgins was facing a conundrum. He didn't wish to share personal information with a complete stranger, someone whose eyes were so guarded and a demeanor which spoke of untapped ruthlessness. Yet, if he were to learn more about the boy, if it might be possible that they were indeed connected in a way that Higgins had still to even think of labeling in the deepest recesses of his mind, he knew it was imperative that he gain the trust, the confidence of Jason Morgan. For he knew instinctively, if Jason were to deem that the boy was in any kind of danger he would remove him posthaste and Higgins would never again see him, never find out if his suspicions were founded or otherwise. Higgins quailed internally as he watched the two men ambling on ahead, deep in conversation. If what he thought turned out to be true, then God help them all because Spinelli would indeed be in danger, a threat would loom over him that all his guardians might be powerless to thwart.

All through Higgins' internal ruminations, Jason hadn't spoken a single word beyond the question he had asked. He was capable of waiting patiently while Higgins weighed the pros and cons of answering. Still, if a satisfactory answer wasn't forthcoming, then he would bide his time through dinner and by tomorrow he and Spinelli would be gone-free trip or no. He'd make it up to the kid, maybe they could go to Tahiti or to the Caribbean, anywhere that wasn't Hawaii. Jason looked up at the duo in front of them and frowned unconsciously, every instinct he possessed was telling him there was danger for Spinelli here and that wasn't acceptable. He just didn't know how to counter a danger he couldn't put a name to.

"She was someone from my past, someone I knew a long while ago," Higgins' voice broke Jason's train of thought and took him by surprise. So much time had passed that Jason had given up on receiving a response at all.

"She was important to you," spoken gruffly, it was a statement rather than a question. He was prodding Higgins, trying to elicit more information from him.

"Yes," Higgins answered without further embellishment.

"So, why did Spinelli react that way when he saw her picture?" Jason wasn't asking Higgins, he was simply musing aloud, but his companion's heart sank at the words.

"I thought you would know. You seem so close to the boy," it was his turn to prompt, to gather more intelligence so he knew what to do, what plan of action to formulate.

"No," Jason's frustration was clear to Higgins as he ran both his hands through his hair in an effort to vent his feelings. "And I'll tell you what," he added despondently, "If that one," he jerked his chin towards Spinelli, "Doesn't want us to know then we won't. He's as stubborn as they come." Both men subsided into a gloomy silence.

Spinelli came running back towards them, "Stone Cold," he called out, his eyes shining and his hair flopping, he slowed his ungainly stride as he drew near them. "We're here at the King Kamehameha Club! Guess what Magnum said," he waved towards the tall man who was off speaking with a short blonde man and an imposing black man. Magnum responded to Spinelli with a wave of his own. "He said he's a private investigator, Stone Cold, imagine! You know well the Jackal's proclivities in that direction… Anyway," he was almost breathless from exertion and excitement, "The Diligent Detective said he would show me the tricks of the trade. Imagine, Stone Cold, the Jackal being taken under the wing of such an Intrepid Investigator!" Magnum had indeed achieved a worthy status, being the proud recipient of not one but two of Spinelli's patented nicknames.

Jason responded to Spinelli's boundless enthusiasm with a repressive, "We'll see," while he directed a disgruntled scowl in Magnum's direction.

Higgins gave a disparaging snort as he rolled his eyes and scornfully repeated Spinelli's designation, "Intrepid Investigator indeed!"

Magnum had detached himself from the two men he had been conversing with and had arrived in time to hear both men's less than delighted reactions to Spinelli's news. He shrugged noncommittally in Jason's direction while he lowered his left eyelid in a deliberate wink directed towards Higgins' glowering countenance.

"Hey, does that mean I have a Spinelli name now?" He grinned conspiratorially down at the young man standing next to him, ignoring what sounded remarkably like a growl emanating from Jason's tightly pursed lips. "How cool is that! You'll have to come up with one for Higgins next." He couldn't seem to resist pushing a stick into the already aroused tiger's cage.

Spinelli smiled uncertainly at Higgins, "The dignified one has no need of the Jackal's additional cognomens. He feels that Mr. Higgins is entire unto himself."

Higgins looked gravely at the young man for a moment before replying, "I think it might be both quite an honor and illuminating to hear what 'cognomen' young Spinelli might eventually think of to apply to me." Something about this young man and his proficiency at giving all in his path a worthy appellation to suit them appealed to him and he did not wish to be left out of it, like some ill-regarded stuffed shirt.

Both Magnum and Jason had been listening to the exchange between the younger and older man with close interest. When it seemed they had reached an awkward impasse with nothing further to say at the moment, Magnum broke the silence. He nudged Spinelli, saying, "C'mon kid, I have good news on two accounts. My friend Ric says he can fit you up with some dry clothes and the restaurant does indeed carry your favorite brand of orange soda."

Spinelli's delighted grin threatened to crack his face in two. "Stone Cold!" As he did whenever he was happy, troubled or anywhere in-between, he turned first to his mentor to share his feelings, "They have nectar of the Gods in this very location. The Jackal was afeared he might have to go without for the duration of the vacation, a sad plight indeed! Did you think when we started out on our trek this day that we would meet with such amicable and fortuitous friends?"

His gesture of inclusion looked alarmingly like he might be thinking of attempting a group hug and Magnum tactfully stepped in to prevent such an unwise outcome. "Let's go Spinelli, we'll let the fuddy duddies catch up in their own time." He steered the younger man away, smiling at the unsuccessfully quelled spurt of laughter that escaped Spinelli's lips at the idea of anyone referring to Jason as a fuddy duddy.

With a resigned sigh and an almost imperceptible grimace, Jason started forward following Spinelli and Magnum into the club's beach entrance, Higgins at his side. For now the two men were tied together, bonded with each other and Magnum by their common concern for Spinelli who was oblivious to the apprehension he engendered in his three companions.

A/N Reviews and perceptions are appreciated