A/N: We know we made you wait a long time for this, hope you like it. I thank Nicolady for explaining what PPE meant.- BB and Trab Title: Footballer's Wives… GH Style!
Authors: Trabrasera and Blondie Boots
Rating: A solid NC-17 through out.
Disclaimer: We don't own any of these characters or settings or anything, we just like to play with them. No sue.
"Real life sucks losers dry, you wanna fuck the eagles, you gotta learn to fly." Heathers
Episode One: Footballer's Wives 101
Sonny was laid back in the driver seat of his Ferrari California, one of a kind, not due out on the market 2010, enjoying the attention he was receiving from one of the soccer groupies who'd been waiting outside the club house. The young woman was slurping noisily as he rested a hand on the back of her head, and thrust deeper into her throat. He only eased up when she started to make gagging sounds. And then it didn't really matter, he'd come in her mouth anyway, he was done.
"That was nice, kid," he said, sitting up, reaching over her and pushing the door open, "But I have to get to bed early. Big game tomorrow."
He all but shoved her out of the car and sped off, leaving her dazed and wiping her face.
Carly was spending the day the way she usually did.
Up at 10-ish, lounge about until she hit the salon. Full mani/pedi, get her acrylics touched up, facial and make up applied, hair coiffed and sprayed into submission.
She looked every inch the footballer's wife. The footballer captain's wife.
Next was a late liquid lunch with the other wives. No arm candy or 'girlfriends' allowed, only the one's who stood to get anything in a divorce. They catted about the men's issues and prowesses, drank enough champagne to keep Krug in business for the year and then headed for 'Diamond Drive' for a spot of shopping. Stopping in various restrooms for the odd bump of coke to keep things moving along.
Carly bid the other footballer harpies adieu and made her way to her newest lover's apartment. Armando was a fiery Latin with a libido that rivaled her own. He was a championship PPE and they started their tryst the way they usually did, her sitting atop his face, grinding until she was screaming.
From there, they moved around the apartment, doing things that may or may not be illegal in all fifty states.
Sonny was sitting at a back table in the far end of a shady little eatery, out of the way of the usual haunts of a 5 time champion soccer star.
"My client's got a lot invested in this game, Mr. Corinthos. The spread is really important. You have to make sure the score goes as follows, for the Sparks, at least."
Anthony Zacchara pushed a sheet of printer paper towards Sonny and then picked up his tumbler of Scotch.
"You can do this, yes?"
"You have my payment?" Sonny arrogantly replied, looking at, and then ignoring the paper.
AZ eyed him for a moment, as if considering whether he wanted to pay him or gut him, then reached into his breast pocket.
"Half now, half after the game," he said, tossing the envelope at the younger man. "And don't foul it up."
"Yeah, yeah. This isn't my first go at this," Sonny said, standing and exiting the restaurant, a cocky grin on his face.
Sonny had, of course, enlisted his right hand man, Lucky Spencer, in the deal, promising him a cut. And while Spencer wasn't by nature a criminal, he was coming to the end of his career, due to multiple injuries and was just arrogant enough to believe he could do whatever the hell he wanted.
They met at Lucky's restaurant/club, Occam's Razor. Lucky was in the back dealing with his staff.
"No more cock ups like last night, things run smoothly or you're all heading back south of the border, got it?"
They murmured and nodded, then Lucky dismissed them and turned to Sonny.
"Yeah, Cap?"
"In your office," Sonny said, brushing by the other man and heading up a set of stairs.
Lucky's office over looked the whole of the restaurant, including the bar and dance floor. It was decorated in vulgar fashion. High priced garbage touted as art and furniture that at the best of times could hardly be considered sittable. The only tasteful piece was his desk and chair, picked out by his half-sister Liz. Huge oak with a beautiful wing back chair, two matching oak chairs sitting in front of it.
Sonny settled into Lucky's chair.
"Got the spread from Zacchara."
"And?"
"We gotta lose this one."
"Shit."
"Yeah, but the pay off is good."
Sonny reached into his jacket pocket and put an envelope on Lucky's desk.
"Half of your cut. The other half payable after the game." At Lucky's look he sat up and said, "Look, I know it's shit, but we won't lose by much and we'll give 'em a hell of a fight. The next game… That's ours."
Lucky's face brightened.
"That's my boy," Sonny said, standing and turning to the window. "Now what have you lined up for us in the way of sexy companionship?"
Lucky joined him and pointed out a group of ladies already half lit on cheap champagne.
"Perfect," Sonny said, as they made their way down to the main floor.
It was game day.
'Jesus,' Carly thought, 'I wish we didn't have to get up so damn early for this pre game bullshit.'
She excused herself from the table and went to the ladies, intending to take a little pick me up, just to get the blood moving. She hadn't counted on meeting the newest femme added to the Sparks family, Elizabeth Webber.
"You're Elizabeth, right? Lucky's little sister." Carly said, shoving her stash back into her purse.
"Liz," the young woman replied, "And half sister."
"What brings you to Port Charles? Last I heard, you were in New Jersey of all places."
"Yes, Princeton," Liz said, "But, I lost my scholarship and Lucky wouldn't pay for it, so I'm going to school closer to Port Charles."
"And you're staying with him?"
The bleached blonde viper seemed to know a lot about her, Liz thought.
Carly tried to smile reassuringly, "Everyone talks, you now. One big family."
"Yeah, I noticed," Liz said, moving to get around the other woman and out of the bathroom.
"Well, see you out in the Box," Carly called at the closing door. She turned to the mirror and smiled wickedly, drawing a vial from her purse.
Back in the Owner's Box, Liz was staring out the window onto the field. The men were coming out and the announcer called their names and positions. She didn't notice the other woman until she spoke.
"Having a look?" she said, "I'm Sam McCall-Jax. See him?" she pointed out on the field at a big blond man, "That's my husband, Jasper Jax. But the fellas just call him Jax."
"Oh, hi, I'm-"
"Liz, yeah I know. Word travels fast."
Liz shook her head.
"Really fast," she said.
"Yeah, well, nature of the beast. Not much else to talk about." Sam moved in closer. "I noticed the one you were looking at rather intently, while he was up here and just now, out on the field."
"What…"
"Don't be coy. Jason Morgan is a fine specimen, you'd have to be dead or gay not to look. And he's on the market. His wife, Chardonnay, died like six months ago. Tragic thing, bulimia or anorexia or something. Couldn't handle it."
At this, Liz looked out at the field, seeing the man she'd been staring at again, trying to block out the woman chattering in her ear.
"Yeah, he's hot," Sam continued, "Not interested in him myself, but a cute little thing like you… Be right up his alley."
"Thanks… I think," Liz replied, "I'm just going to head over to the buffet…"
"Sure, sure," Sam said, "Hey, give me call if you need to, we're in the team directory."
"Okay," Liz said, as she walked away as quickly as she figured was polite.
She'd spent a long time away from her brother. Private school in England, then the scholarship to Princeton. She'd been ensconced in the cerebral from a young age. Port Charles had come as a shock to her and she was having a hard time acclimating herself to the new situation.
She noticed another woman standing by the buffet, picking at items here and there. When she got a plate and ended up near the other woman, she introduced herself.
"Hi, I'm Liz, Lucky's half sister, but you probably already know that."
The other woman just looked at her a second and then broke out into a wide smile.
"Yeah, hard getting used to the Sparks News Network, huh?" the other woman replied, "I'm Maxi Jones."
"You're not sitting with the other wives-" Liz said and then clamped her mouth shut, she was not going to get in trouble if Maxi was 'arm candy'.
Maxi just tossed her head and laughed.
"They drum you out of the club once you're divorced. But… I got the seats in the Owner's Box in the settlement, so they can suck it!" She called in the general direction of the 'wives'.
"Sorry," Maxi said, smiling again, "I get a little cranky."
"That's okay," Liz said, smiling back. "You're fresh air compared-" Again she stopped. She was going to have a hard time keeping her foot out of her mouth.
"Yeah, I know what you mean. They make you feel… Well, I mean look at me. I came to Port Charles a flat-chested bumpkin, just off the turnip truck. Now, I've got more silicone in me than Pam Anderson. Not that I'm really complaining, but things change for you once you join that crowd…"
Maxi looked sad for a minute, then brightened back up.
"Anyway, I also heard the harpies going on about you, Carly saying she met you in the bathroom. She's the one you have to look out for. I suggest just staying away, but that may not work, Lucky and Sonny being like they are." "Like what?" Liz asked, worried.
"Just, like, Sonny is his guru or something, his boss. Up his butt every five seconds." She stopped and looked abashed. "Sorry, didn't mean to bad mouth your brother."
"Half-brother," Liz said, "And don't worry, I've said worse."
Maxi smiled brightly again.
"Well, I hope that means we can be friends."
Liz smiled back.
"Yeah, I think we can."
