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

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Chapter One

Life is the flower for which love is the honey

-Victor Hugo

"Stupid piece of junk!"

It was raining. No, it was a thunderstorm, pouring down from the Heavens onto the streets with no mercy for the foolish travelers who had the misfortune to be out tonight. The beat up little blue VW Bug wobbled to a stop, belching up a thick cloud of smoke from the engine and completely shut off.

Elizabeth Webber slammed her fist against the steering wheel then lay back against the headrest to release a frustrated breath. "You hate me," she glanced up at the roof of the car, speaking to the Guardian Angel that she knew often pulled her out of desperate situations. Only it seemed said GA was off duty tonight.

The last thing she wanted was to get out of this car and go out into this storm. It was spring, but the rain was cold so that negated the warm weather. The jeans and t-shirt she wore to work this morning would be drenched in seconds. "I'm just sitting here until tomorrow." She told her GA.

So what if she missed her shift at the hospital, there were other nurses right? She could be forgiven missing work this one time. Did it matter that she had just moved here to Port Charles from Denver just three months ago and really needed this job?

She was fortunate that she found the inexpensive studio to stay in, there was no way she was going to live at her Grandmother's house. Spending summers there during her teen years with her sister Sarah had been trying enough. She and Audrey Hardy had bumped heads so often, it was a wonder that she didn't have a permanent concussion.

Just because she was twenty-eight, Liz didn't think that had changed.

It certainly hadn't changed with her parents. If she had to listen to one more comment on how wonderful her brother and sister were and how disappointing she was, she would have gone insane. She flunked out of art school, that little affair with her professor ending with her calling him a limp dick piece of shit who couldn't keep his pants zipped, probably didn't help either.

Determined to prove her parents wrong, she went to nursing school and found that it wasn't so bad. She had to study her ass off to get good grades, especially when all she wanted was to be locked in a quiet room painting, but eventually she graduated.

Then the next stupid relationship. Sleeping with the son of the chief of staff of the hospital where she worked probably wasn't her wisest decision. Finding him in bed with his best friend Pete and proceeding to beat his ass with his favorite hockey stick was definitely not a good decision.

So when Grams called from Port Charles and told her that they were accepting applications for nurses, Liz figured this was a good opportunity to cut free of Denver and start over. So far things were going well. The job was great. Her studio, though a little small was perfect, especially that sun exposure that was perfect to paint under. She made two new friends that she loved. Sam McCall and Brenda Barrett were the best girlfriends that she ever had. Both were funny, irreverent and Liz knew that she could always count on them. They were the sisters she always wanted.

So until her car conked out on her tonight, everything had been going great for once in her life.

Why had she gone out with that asshole Nikolas Cassadine tonight?

"That's why I'm being punished right?"

He had pestered her all week at work and finally she had given in tonight and agreed to have dinner with him at the little Italian restaurant next to the hospital. What a huge black hole of misery this date had been. Who would have thought such a gorgeous man was such a pompous, stuck up, full of himself, arrogant, conceited, Neanderthal moon dweebie.

First, he had the nerve to comment on her clothes. She hadn't planned to go out after work, so the jeans and the little baby t-shirt were just fine to ride to and from the hospital. She spent most of her time in scrubs anyway. Nikolas had cornered her during her last break and asked her out again for the fifth time. She knew she shouldn't accept and truly had no intention of doing so, but Grams had come along and accepted for her before she could find some way to let him down easy.

She was trying to take a break from men due to her last disastrous relationships, so having her grandmother fix her up was a little embarrassing. Rather than argue, she agreed to the date. It was only a few hours of time, what harm could there have been.

A few hours that she could never get back unfortunately.

First Nikolas complained about the service, then he tried to impress her with his horrible Italian. Good thing she spent that summer in Venice and could speak fluent Italian. The waiter, a nice older gentleman who had looked at Nikolas with a confused expression had smiled generously as she corrected his mistake. She could have been stuck eating boiled octopus in cheese sauce. Just the thought of it was enough to make her shiver in disgust.

Next all he did the rest of the evening was talk about himself and a business deal he was building with a company called ELQ. It wouldn't have been so bad, if he wasn't trying to impress her. It wouldn't have been so bad, if he had actually been interested in something she had to say. It wouldn't have been so bad if she could have poked him in the eye with her fork.

The best part of the night was the amazing shrimp fettuccine alfredo, the wonderful glass of Chardonnay and the laugh she shared withthe waiterover her small order of chocolate hazel nut cake for dessert.

When the evening gratefully ended shortly after nine, she thanked him for the meal, refused the ride home and lied through her teeth about joining him again for another night out. Anything to get away from him and back to the parking lot for her car.

"You really hate me don't you," she asked her GA again, "That's why I'm out here in the rain in the middle of who cares in a broken down car!"

She finished the thought in a shout that turned into a shriek as lightening flashed brightly through the sky, followed seconds later by a loud boom of thunder that shook the little bug. "Okay, okay," she reached over and grabbed her purse from the passenger seat. "I get the message."

She was a big believer in listening when her GA was trying to make a point.

Sliding from the car, giving it a good kick for good measure, she pushed her hair off her face and glanced around trying to get her bearings. Spying the dinky little neon sign, she rushed across the street, dodging puddles and potholes to the sidewalk. Telephone, she told herself. She would go inside this bar, ask for a phone and call Sam or Bren to come pick her up. "Better call Sam," she muttered. Brenda would complain the entire time.

It's raining.

It's wet.

I told you not to buy that piece of shit.

Being a wealthy supermodel, Bren hadn't figured out that poor Liz couldn't afford the gleaming Beamer she suggested. Hell, she couldn't even afford a nice little Honda Civic. The beat up little bug was a steal and it was kind of cute. Sam on the other hand, manager of the Metro Court Hotel, was a little more realistic about her monetary issues. Pulling her out into a rainstorm at, she glanced down at her watch, ten o'clock at night, would be inconvenient but Sam would understand.

Liz jerked open the door of Jakes and stepped inside.

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There was nothing better than a cold beer and a game of pool.

Except maybe a warm woman moving beneath him. So he wasn't picky, the drink and the game were a good way to pass the evening. The rain outside was coming down pretty hard so the bar was practically empty, except for a few regulars that would show up to Jakes in the middle of a hurricane. The only reason he was here was because he lived upstairs in one of the three small apartments.

If anyone from his former life could see him now, they wouldn't have recognized Jason Morgan. Not that it made much difference to him, he couldn't even remember that former life. There were only two people from his past that he cared about.

The first, his Grandmother Lila who died last year. She had always loved him no matter what. It took him a while to be able to appreciate that, but when he finally could, they had a great relationship. Jason knew he could go to her about anything and she wouldn't judge him, wouldn't' tell him what to do or how to live his life.

After her death, he figured that he would be done with the Quartermaines. He hadn't counted on getting to know Monica, his mother. She hadn't pushed, just slowly wormed her way back into his life until before he knew it, he had a Mom again. He still couldn't stand the other Quartermaines, but his mother was cool.

Jason lined up his next shot, a nice little geometrical masterpiece that would bounce the two-ball off a couple of walls before sinking nicely into the right corner pocket. The weather report this morning had suggested a storm was headed toward the city, so he knew he wouldn't have to work tonight. Lucky hadn't believed him. Jason had laughed as he bet his best friend a good fin that they would be unable to take the Haunted Star out onto the water.

Lucky Spencer still hadn't learned never to take a sucker bet despite being the owner of his father's casino. It was a good thing he had him for a business partner. Lucky was the charm and he was the muscle. Lucky had the bright ideas and Jason was the follow through. Best of all, neither liked the same kind of woman and never had to share because the Haunted Star always provided a nice even bounty.

The guests loved Lucky, he was a chip off his father's block. A good thing because Jason would have quietly gone insane if he had to deal with the customers. He liked his job as security for the casino and keeping the books. He could be as antisocial as he liked, in the end it never effected the casino's bottom-line. He was good at his job but he didn't mind the occasional night off for himself.

So here he was fifty dollars richer, partaking in a little eight ball before heading up for the night alone to read his newest John Grisham thriller. He didn't pay much attention when the door to Jake's slammed open, but he sure as hell saw the nice piece that walked in.

She was drenched, that pale pink t-shirt hugged her slender body just right and he could see the bra beneath which cupped a perfect palm full. Those low riding jeans were plastered to her legs, giving him a nice view of legs that could inspire a man. Dark hair fell messily around her face, and she sneered as she pushed it off her face.

A sensual face.

Big blue eyes, a lush mouth and a quick slash of cheekbones and it all called to him. Too bad he wasn't answering tonight. Besides, she wasn't from this part of town. He could see the gleam ofinnocence glowing from that silky skin. Definitely not his type. He picked up his bottle of Heineken and took a long drink watching as she walked to the bar to speak to Coleman.

Whatever she wanted, Coleman couldn't help her, because she frowned and flopped down onto a stool and dropped her head on the bar. He finished up his game, then glanced down at his empty and back to the bar, curiosity getting the best of him he went to get another drink.

"Hey, Coleman," he raised his bottle and the bartender took it from him already reaching down for another and opening it for him. "Thanks man."

"No problem," came the gritty reply, then he nodded to the newbie, "Hey Jase, you've got a phone in your room don't you?"

"No," he answered truthfully, "I have a cell why?"

"Little lady here needs to make a call but the pay phone is broken. why don't you help her out." He wiggled his eyebrows and Jason knew that a phone call wasn't all Coleman was suggesting he help her with.

He looked down at the silent woman and could almost hear his Grandmother's voice in his head telling him to help her. Rolling his eyes in defeat he reached over and tapped her on the shoulder, "Hey?"

He figured she was listening to the conversation, but her head jerked up off the bar as though he had startled her, "What? What's wrong! Page Doctor Drake stat." Jason felt a smile teasing at his mouth but managed to keep his face clear as he stared at her. So she worked over at GH. He remembered hearing Monica mentioning a Doctor Drake, neurosurgeon if he wasn't mistaken.

Her eyes were slightly glazed with confusion, then they cleared rather abruptly a sharp cobalt blue that sent a shiver of awareness down his spine. She frowned as she glanced around then looked down at her purse and back at him. "Oh, you really hate me don't you?" she muttered, "I can't believe I fell asleep in here."

Neither could he, so she must have been dog-tired. "Coleman said you needed a phone."

"What?" her voice nice, a little husky, with just enough sex to make a man wonder what it would sound like while they were in bed together. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

He licked his lips, and watched her eyes follow the movement. "I said, Coleman said you needed to use the phone."

"Phone," she gazed at him a moment longer then it finally registered, "Phone! Yes, a phone," then she frowned slightly, "He said the phone's broken."

Jason reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell, "Here."

"You don't have to do this," she stammered and pushed his hand away.

"Look, you're soaked, it's getting late and you need a phone. I have a phone, use it." He held the phone back out at her and watched the indecision warring on her face. Then she reached out a hand, her fingers closing lightly over his as she accepted. Something flashed through him at the touch of her skin, unfamiliar and just a little unnerving. Her fingers were cold but that didn't detract from the sensation. If anything it made him want to close his hands around hers and warm her.

"Thank you," she murmured, opening the phone to dial a number.

"No problem," he picked up his beer, "I'll be over by the table when you're done." He nodded giving her a little privacy to finish her call.

He was racking up his next set when he felt the tentative tap on his shoulder. When he turned around, she was smiling. "Thank you," she held the phone back out, "I really appreciate you letting me use your phone."

"No problem."

They glanced at each other in silence for a moment, as he ran his eyes over her body, found her nipples tight against the wet fabric and jerked them back up to her face. "Look," he started, his voice a little gruff, "Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah," she nodded, fidgeting slightly.

Jason rubbed a hand over his chin, then walked over to the coat rack and grabbed his jacket off. When he came back and draped the jacket around her, she blinked up at him in surprise, "You looked cold," he lied. Hell if he had to look at those breasts much longer he was going to forget all about his good intentions and drag her up to his room.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. "You don't' strike me as the kind of guy to do something for nothing in return."

"You're right," he agreed. He had no idea why he was being nice to her, there was just something about her that made he want to be kind. "I'm not."

She laughed at that, just a soft chuckle, but it was enough to heat his blood, "well I guess my GA was looking out after all."

"GA?"

"Guardian Angel," she clarified.

"Lady, I'm no Angel."

"No, I don't believe you are," she smiled, then held out her hand, "I'm Elizabeth."

Did he really want to touch her again? He glanced down at her little hand, feeling foolish for the wary feeling and grasped it with his own. He immediately noticed how his hand completely dwarfed hers, but her hand was strong, sure. He liked that. "Jason."

"It's nice to meet you Jason."

"Yeah, you too."

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Liz laughed at the shocked expression on Jason's face as she chalked her pool cue. They had been playing for the past thirty minutes as she waited for Sam to get dressed and come pick her up from the bar. She took another swallow from her beer and leaned over the table to take her shot.

He had suggested a game while she waited, and the first couple of shots, his jacket kept getting in the way. So, Jason had run upstairs and got her a t-shirt to put on over hers and she had to knot it at the waist so that the long material wouldn't hang everywhere.

"Six ball, side pocket," she called her shot and watched him roll his eyes. "You think I can't make it?"

"Beth, if you make that shot, I'll give you twenty dollars."

She tried to ignore the small shimmer of delight at that nickname. When he had called her Elizabeth, she had frowned and told him that her friends called her Liz. He in turn had frowned telling her she didn't look like a Liz. A nymph couldn't be a plain old Liz. Then he said Elizabeth was a mouth full, that he couldn't call her Elizabeth unless she planned to go upstairs and sleep with him.

That had caused a nervous laugh because she couldn't decide if he was serious or not.

Hell she couldn't decide if she would take him up on it or not.

The man was just too gorgeous for words. She had been gawking at him like some silly teenager since the moment he approached her at the bar. Tall, with muscles rippling beneath a black t-shirt, he made her feel all warm and feminine. A broad chest that narrowed down to a lean waist, long legs that she knew were powerful beneath those black jeans he wore. Thick golden brown hair cut short and blunt around a handsome face, eyes a perfect robin's egg blue and his mouth, my, my, his mouth was made for wickedness.

Liz took her impossible shot, sinking the ball neatly into the pocket and burst into laughter at the astonished expression on his face. She gripped the cue in her hand and sauntered over to where he leaned against the wall. "I believe you owe me twenty dollars."

"You're good," he acknowledged softly, looking down into her eyes. "Where'd you learn to play?"

"Little bar in Denver where I grew up," she smiled, "I've been playing since I turned eighteen."

"You've been hustling in bars with that innocent face, Beth?" He leaned down a bit until they were close enough that she could reach up and place her mouth to his if she wanted.

"No," she admitted, feeling her throat dry. They stared at each other, and she could feel her heart pounding in her ears. What the hell was she doing? Hadn't she just sworn off men and now she was about to drown in this guy here and the only thing she knew about him was that he played a good game of pool, enjoyed a Heineken Dark Ale just like she did and was kind to stranded women in bars.

And his name was Jason.

It was a good name, a name meant to be moaned out in passion.

She licked her lips nervously and tried to swallow, but found herself breathless. "I, I," she stammered realizing she had forgotten what on earth they were talking about. One thing she did know, if kept looking at her like that she wasn't going to be responsible for her actions.

She watched as he reached out a hand, closed it lightly on her waist, "What are you doing in here Beth? Don't you know Jake's isn't a place for a woman like you?"

"What does that mean? What kind of woman am I?"

He took a step forward, and she could feel the warmth of his body. If he was this warm and there was less than a foot of distance between him, just imagine what he would feel like skin to skin. Okay, perhaps she shouldn't think about that.

"You're a woman made for," but before he could finish the door to Jake's slammed open.

"Liz?"

She watched in dismay as something flickered across his face, then he took a step back from her. Part of her wanted to grab on to his t-shirt and yank him back. Only he was already gone and the moment had passed. She turned to find Sam in the open door way with an umbrella. She waved her over with a smile and Liz turned back to Jason.

"That's my ride."

"Yes it is," he murmured softly.

They looked at each other again and Liz jerked when she heard Sam call her name again. "I should get going." He nodded once and accepted the pool cue that she held out to him. "Thank you again Jason, it was nice meeting you."

"No problem Beth," a small smile touched his lips, "You be safe."

She nodded once then backed away, picking up her purse from the table to walk to the door. When she turned around at the door, he was still standing there. She waved a hand lightly in farewell, realizing that this was probably the last time she might ever see him.

She didn't like that at all.

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Jason watched the door close behind his blue eyed nymph and shook his head ruefully mocking himself, "You're a woman made for lazy loving in a spring storm, Beth," he finished to the empty bar.