[Prompt: "Nothing's ever for sure, John. That's the only sure thing I do know." – A Beautiful Mind]
Chapter 2
Christmas Eve
"Poor Reginald," Elizabeth laughed, following her husband into the penthouse, shivering as she adjusted to the sudden warmth. "I thought Edward was going to fire him when he tripped on the rug and dropped the ham!"
"Oh, I know," her husband replied, tossing his keys down on the desk by the door, and shrugging out of his pea coat. "The cook works so hard every year to make dinner…"
"And we always end up having pizza," she finished, dusting snow out of her hair as she handed Jason her coat.
"Well, there was ham on it," he pointed out, walking over to the closet to hang up their coats.
"I don't know what your family would do if the Pizza Shack wasn't open," she said, hurrying over to the fireplace.
"Starve," he joked, following after her, "which might not be a bad thing." He stooped in front of the fireplace as she handed him logs. "I just wish AJ would have camecome."
"Me too," she sighed, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. "You're going to have to give him time, Jason. He's really hurt by what Edward did."
"Can you blame him?" he asked, leaning away from the fireplace as he lit some paper and tossed it in. "I know he's my brother, but he's not ready to run ELQ."
"And you are," she agreed, reaching for his hand as he stood up, "but AJ's still hurt. He's the one who chose business school and wanted to run the company. You sort of got roped into it."
"It was for the best," he said, slipping his arm around her shoulder as they stood in front of the fire. "Otherwise, right now I'd be starting out as an intern, flat broke and living in some run down apartment on the other side of town."
"Would you be happier?" she asked seriously, cringing when he just looked at her.
Sometimes she forgot there was such a thing as too close to Jason Quartermaine.
"We have it good, Elizabeth," he replied, pulling her over to the couch.
"I know," she murmured, tucking her knees under her as she settled beside him. "I just remember the boy who wanted to be a doctor."
"What about the girl who wanted to be a nurse?" he asked, combing his fingers through her damp curls.
"Oh, she met a rich boy who gave her the chance to do what she really wanted," she teased, leaning over to kiss him gently.
"Yeah, the rich boy thinks she's alright," he chuckled, pulling her into his lap.
Grinning, she moved to straddle him. "I love you, Jason Quartermaine," she whispered, cupping his face as she kissed him. "So very, very much."
"So you're not upset that I don't have letters behind my name?" he asked, rubbing his hands up and down her thighs.
"I guess," she shrugged nonchalantly., "I can settle for CEO." He kissed her again, harder this time, and took the opportunity to flip her over so she was beneath him. "I'm really proud of you, Jase. You worked really hard and it paid off."
"Mmhmm," he grumbled, his tongue tracing the column of her throat.
She shivered, her body curling against him.
"It's good…" he paused, peppering kissesing up her neck and over her cheek, where heand settlinged at her mouth. "To have you to share it with."
"Oh, stop," she laughed, rolling her eyes. "I think the holidays have made you overly sentimental."
"Things are really good right now," he reminded her seriously. "And I can only think of one thing that's missing."
"Oh, what's that?" she asked, arching her eyebrows at him.
His lips brushed over hers again and he looked her in the face. "I still want to have a baby, Elizabeth. I know you said you weren't ready, but that was months ago, and I-"
"Actually," she interrupted, gently pushing him up and sliding out from beneath him, "we need to talk about that."
Frowning, he sat up and hung his head. "I don't want to fight about this again, but we've been married for a few years now, and – and you know that my grandmother is getting old, and she wants a great grandchild so badly."
"I know," Elizabeth murmured, getting up from the couch and walking over to the fireplace, her chest tightening as she looked at their neatly hung stockings. She ran a slender finger over the soft, red velvet. "You didn't peak into your stocking this year, did you?"
"What?" he asked confused, and before he could question her further there was a familiar pounding on the door.
"Jason," she warned, but he didn't hear her, and was already answering the door, prepared for yet another fight with his brother.
"Hey! It's the prodigal son!" AJ saluted, breezing past his brother and grinning at Elizabeth. "And his beautiful wife! How's my favorite sister-in-law?"
"I missed you at dinner," she replied, staring past him at Jason, hoping he wouldn't let this ruin their Christmas. "We all did."
"You always had a soft spot for me, Lizzie," he slurred, rocking back and forth on his feet. "I bet you were the only one-"
"AJ, if you came here to feel sorry about yourself, you can try the bar down the street," Jason interrupted angrily, ignoring his wife's pleading eyes.
"Where do you think I've been all night?" he asked spitefully, his hands shaking. "I knew I wouldn't be welcomed at dinner because of the fit I threw at the board meeting last week, and I wasn't going to walk in with my tail between my legs either." He clenched his hands into fists, his lips quivering as he narrowed his eyes at his brother. "That company was supposed to be mine. When I was a kid, all our grandfather talked about was how I was going to run the family companybusiness, but then dad's bastard had to come along."
"Oh, AJ," Elizabeth sighed, holding her hands against her mouth.
"Get out," Jason growled, pointing at the open door.
"What? You can't handle the truth, brother?" he asked spitefully. "You're nothing more than our father's mistake, and he's trying to make it up to you, I think. That he didn't want you around and he didn't want you in the house-"
"You can't blame me for their choices, AJ," he interrupted, shaking his head as if to warn him. "If you weren't too busy drowning in booze and whores, you would be running the company. You gave them no other choice."
"It's always been me against you," he muttered, shifting his eyes to Elizabeth. "Always. He doesn't get it at all, sweetheart. I was the first born, the good son, and then suddenly I had to play second fiddle to the bastard. I was never as good as Jason – as behaved – as liked – as good in school. He just had to go to study business. He couldn't handle me having something. Hell, I even had my eye on you first, but he went after-"
"AJ, that's it!" Jason cried, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.
"Stop it!" Elizabeth shouted, her heart breaking for the both of them. No one was to blame for this situation but the Quartermaines. They had forced these brothers into hating one another, but it wasn't her place to point that out.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," AJ chanted, holding his hands up as he stared his brother in the face. "But from this moment on, you're dead to me." He tore himself out of Jason's grasp and stumbled out the door, slamming it behind him.
"Elizabeth, I'm sor-"
"You have to go after him," she interrupted, her eyes filling with tears.
"What?" he asked, throwing his hands up in disbelief.
"He's your brother, Jason, and he's hurting. And you know that the person he's most angry with is himself," she replied, willing to beg him if she had to. "Please."
"He's too wasted to care about anything right now," he argued, shaking his head.
"Exactly. He's wasted and probably driving," she pointed out, lifting a hand to his face. She stroked his cheek. "Please go after him. Please."
Sighing, he turned and started for the door. "I wouldn't do this for anyone else."
"I know," she smiled, gently wiping her eyes.
He opened the door and looked over his shoulder, his eyes soft and understanding, and she knew he loved his brother more than he wanted to admit. "I love you."
"You too," she whispered, the door closing behind him.
Taking a deep breath, she started towards the couch, the stockings on the mantle catching her eye. She walked over and pulled Jason's off the brass hook, the velvet soft and warm in her hands. Slipping a hand inside, she felt around for the cool, silver gift she'd nestled in the bottom, her eyes filling with tears all over again when she pulled the silver, baby rattle from the bottom.
"Well," she sighed, placing a hand nervously against her stomach, "there's always tomorrow."
**********
"There you go, one double cheeseburger and a side of fries," Elizabeth grinned, setting the plate down in front of a customer. "How are you doing, Mr. Lansing? Anything exciting going on down at the PCPD?"
The man in the suit chuckled softly, his voice lowering seductively, and he whispered something that Jason couldn't hear. Elizabeth laughed – more like cackled – the sound ringing through the tiny diner.
It made his stomach turn.
"Call Sonny," Jason muttered, shifting his eyes to the guard sitting beside him. "If he's not close, tell him Kelly's is too busy, and we need to go somewhere else."
The guard hesitated briefly, but hurried to his feet when Jason continued to glare at him.
Sighing, he leaned against the back of the chair, his hands clasped in his lap as he watched her continue to flirt with district attorney. She floated from customer to customer at the counters and tables, but always came back to him.
It was disgusting.
Worsened by the fact that she knew he was sitting in the diner; her eyes found his from time to time, lingering as if wanting him to speak to her. He was forced to glare back until she looked away, usually excusing herself from her work duties immediately, and disappearing into the back. She reappeared a few minutes later, red-faced and exhausted looking, and then she'd start pissing him off all over again.
"Oh, Ric, you're awful," she laughed, wiping down the counter with a damp rag, her cheeks flushing as the man murmured something else. She looked up from the counter when Georgie, another waitress, opened the door and asked for her help with something outside. "Be right there, G."
Jason dropped his eyes back to the table as she started around the counter, her knees buckling as she neared the door. He could practically smell her fear, how she panicked when he walked in, and acted busy and bubbly to show that she was unaffected.
It was sad really.
"Sonny is pulling into the back alley now," the guard said, sitting down across from him.
"Thank you," Jason replied, lifting his eyes briefly. "I'd like sit alone until he gets here."
"Oh, of course," he nodded, stumbling as he got up from his chair and hurried out of the diner.
He didn't understand why everyone was so nervous around him, never looking him in the eye, and shuffling their feet when he walked into a room. Only Sonny seemed unaffected by his accident and treated him like he was a person and not some walking time bomb.
"Excuse me," he barked loudly, looking up as Elizabeth breezed back into the diner.
Her plastered grin faded as she looked at him. "Yes?" she asked, smoothing her trembling hands over the front of her apron.
Then again, maybe he liked people being afraid of them. It kept them away, prevented questions, and allowed him to be alone.
"I've been here for a half an hour," he said, arching an eyebrow at her. "I'd like some service if you aren't too busy flirting with your boyfriend over there."
Clearing her throat, her cheeks flamed up, and she looked away, her hands fisted in the front of her apron. "This isn't my section," she replied, failing to sound as professional as she tried to. "And who I'm involved with is none of your business."
"So you are sleeping with him?" he pried, rolling his eyes when she huffed and called him a name under his breath.
"I'm working," she said, her chest heaving as the bell above the diner door rang. Both of their attention shifted to the mob boss who was making his way inside, bodyguards in tow. "Georgie is your waitress. Harass her."
"Thank you," he called after her, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "Have a nice day, Mrs. Quartermaine."
"It's Webber now, asshole," she spat over her shoulder, before disappearing into the back.
"Jason," Sonny scolded, clucking his tongue as he slid into a chair at the table.
"I'm hungry," he huffed, not sure why it upset him so much when his boss told him he was doing something wrong. "She won't take my order."
"I wonder why," he retorted, waving his guards away with his hand. "Did you know she worked here when you told me to meet you?"
"No," he replied angrily, wishing he had because then he would have chosen the furthest restaurant from this place. "I don't keep tabs on her, Sonny. She signed the divorce papers a month ago, so she's got her money. S, and she can leave me the hell alone."
"Or vice versa," he sighed, looking over his shoulder as Elizabeth came from the back, her eyes red-rimmed and face flushed. "You need to be easier on her."
"I don't want to talk about this," Jason muttered, looking up as Georgie approached. Sonny rattled off his order and looked expectantly at his employee. "Just a coffee. I'm not hungry anymore, and make sure Webber over there doesn't spit in it."
"Forgive him," Sonny apologized, flashing his dimples to the waitress, who instantly grinned back. "He's having a moment."
"Not a problem," she said sweetly, tucking her pad of paper into her apron. "I'll have your food ready in a minute, Mr. Corinthos."
"Don't even," Jason muttered, when he felt the mobster's dark eyes settle on him.
They'd have had this conversation over and over; before the divorce, after the divorce, and anytime her name managed to come up in conversation, which was a lot. No one seemed capable of forgetting that he'd divorced the nicest, most beautiful girl in town.
Sonny was more patient than the rest though. He seemed to understand Jason's desire to let go of his old life, he just didn't like him hurting people because he was hurting and didn't know what else to do with his anger. He understood his Jason's destructive side, but was always telling him to do something positive with it, and not destroy what life he had left.
The more he learned about his boss, the more he admired him; a man who had come from nothing and built an empire from scraps. Sure, it wasn't the most illegal of lifestyles, which was what had drawn Jason to it in the first place, but Sonny kept things as clean as he could. No drugs, no guns, and neither were to be run existed heavily in his territory.
And he believed Jason was capable of doing something, which was unlike everyone else. They acted like he was so stilted, so handicapped, and they wanted to coddle him, so he appreciated Sonny's admiration. He honestly only intended to just work in the man's warehouses, but Sonny said Jason had a knack for reading people, and that was beneficial. So far, he'd only set in on a couple of meetings with some of Sonny's acquaintances, but and his boss seemed impressed. Id, and it felt good to have someone believing in him.
Not that was he going to start bragging about it.
"So, we have a meeting in a few days in one of our empty warehouses," Sonny murmured quietly, watching Jason intently and waiting for some kind of signal should the district attorney choose to cause a problem. He liked to conduct business like this is public, that way no one could accuse him of conspiring behind closed doors.
Thankfully, Ric Lansing was too wrapped up in Jason's ex-wife to give them the time of day.
"It's with Anthony Zacchara. He wants to use one of my docks for a while, and he's promised it's not for anything illegal, so I'm having that checked out," he continued, pausing when Georgie appeared with his food. "Thank you, sweetheart."
"Anytime, sir," she smiled warmly, glancing briefly at Jason, but not asking if he wanted anything.
Everyone was so damned afraid of him.
"Anyway, it's his son I'm worried about. He's a little off – erratic and crazy. Anthony's trying to show him the ways of the business, but he likes to cause trouble, so I want you to keep an eye on him," he finished, arching his eyebrow. "Well?"
"Yeah, I'll watch the little shit," he muttered, grimacing when he caught Elizabeth's eyes, and he glaredglaring until she disappeared into the back again. "Sonnyy?"
"Yeah?" he asked, looking confused as Jason got up from the table.
He grabbed his leather jacket from the back of the chair. "We can't meet here anymore."