Predicament

Jason's POV

Em and I moved Elizabeth to the living room where she dropped down onto the couch. She hadn't stopped crying since Em had found her and I was worried. What had happened? What had she remembered? I knew she hadn't killed Lucky—not Elizabeth Webber. In fact there was no doubt in my mind how innocent she was but for some reason she didn't trust herself. Even now, she shrunk away from us both and told us, through sobs, that she wanted us to stay on the other side of the room for our own protection.

This was preposterous because we both knew that Liz couldn't hurt a fly but we obliged her and stood on the opposite side of the room. Several times I looked over at her. She looked so weak to me: all curled up and shivering, her tears falling down her throat subtly choking her. Em wasn't sure what she should be doing so she just spoke softly to Liz until the crying finally ceased.

"What happened, Elizabeth?" I inquired coolly. There was no reason to get her any more worked up than she already was. I didn't want to push her but neither did I want her to be afraid. It hadn't been that long ago when I'd taken care of her and we'd always been friends so it had become almost instinctual.

She didn't look at me; afraid I would see the horrible thing in herself that she saw. "Lucky. I saw him. I had a memory…a flashback. But it was so vague. I'm not sure what to make of it." Elizabeth quit talking and I worried she might stop there so I persisted.

"What was the memory about?" Em wondered, knowing that it had to have horrible to turn Elizabeth into a pile of mushy woman. She was such a wonderful friend to Elizabeth and everyone around her…including the Quartermaines. I couldn't quite understand that last part. The only Quartermaines I'd ever been able to tolerate besides Em were Monica and Lila. How one could have a pleasant conversation with Edward Quartermaine was beyond me. Over the years I had attempted tolerance for Em and Michael's sake.

"There was so much blood. I-I'm not sure why it was there or why I was." She was purposely talking to her hands, avoiding any and all eye contact. Surely she didn't think that we would automatically assume she was a murderer!

"Maybe it's not a memory of yours but a fear. When they found Lucky's body, they said it was cut up and then burned." Em stated matter-of-factly, regretting her words the moment they left her mouth.

I hoped Elizabeth didn't start crying again. She was strong; she could make it through this. Thankfully she kept the threatening tears at bay and continued, "I was standing over Lucky and he was screaming for me to stop. The only thing is, I don't know what I was doing that scared him so much. His eyes looked glassy and he was losing so much blood. You can't tell me that that was my imagination. My God, what did I do to him?" She said the last part in a whisper and immediately Em was at her side ready to comfort. I stood there, not sure how to help her. Just a few minutes previous to now, I'd believed in Liz's innocence one hundred percent. How did I feel now? Did I still trust her?

I left the room and went to make some calls. Em was behind me but I told her that I needed to be alone so she backed off. The first call I made was to Blake Harrison—a mole I'd planted in the PCPD six months ago to keep tabs for our business. He was very good at his job—never got caught and was a very good actor. I asked him for specific details on the corpse they found at Lucky's apartment. He explained that they'd decided it was he by default without having any real proof.

"You're telling me that they don't even know if Lucky Spencer is dead." I was outraged. This meant that the PCPD had charged Elizabeth with a supposed murder of a supposed corpse. Now how much sense did that make? They were either slipping up or there was another part of the story. I asked Blake to fax me over the crime in detail so that I could cross-reference it with Elizabeth's story. I just want some assurance, I told myself. I didn't really believe Elizabeth had murdered anyone.

After we hung up, I dialed Sam's cell number. I wanted very badly to talk to her—to explain the situation to her—but I knew that I couldn't do much of either. Because I was calling the cell as opposed to the landline, I was taking a very big risk. I took this risk because I wanted to catch her and doubted she would be at home. If she was in the penthouse, Carly was with her. That was what kept me sane: knowing that she was safe when I wasn't there.

Now Sam McCall was extremely self-sufficient so I shouldn't have worried. She had taken care of herself most of her life and would have still been doing so if she hadn't stumbled upon my doorstep—literally. I remember that story in perfect detail. It had been raining outside so of course her hair was soaked as was she. She knocked on my door at one o'clock in the morning. Because I'm not a deep sleeper, I answered on the first knock. Until that moment, Sam and I had tolerated each other. There was no attraction or special consideration lying between us. But when I saw her standing in my doorway, eyes dripping with tears and clothes soaked, I invited her in. I could tell that she was surprised but she followed me in anyway. While I went to get a towel for her, she stayed behind talking too quietly for me to hear. It was just as well anyway.

"Do you want to tell me what's wrong or should I try and guess?" I asked in a mocking tone, handing her the towel to dry off with. I shouldn't have been so cross with her but I couldn't help it. She was always leaching herself to the men of Port Charles and I had no intention of getting caught.

Crossing her arms defiantly she forced her tears back and glared at me. I felt like an absolute jerk and it must have shown because she retorted quickly, "What makes you think something is wrong?" My eyebrows rose so she continued, "I didn't come here to fight with you, Jason." Her tone was unhappy. What had she expected? –Me to welcome her with open arms. Well that wasn't going to happen.

"Then what is it, Sam? Are you hurt? Do you need me to kill someone for you?" At my last question she huffed. We both knew that—woman or not—she could get rid of anyone she wanted. Really I had just been trying to get to her.

Sam sat on the couch where I joined her before she explained what had happened. "I need somewhere to stay, Jason." So of course she chose me for a roommate. I wasn't buying it and she could tell. "You weren't my first choice but from what I've heard, you're a pretty decent guy. I, of course, have nothing to relate that to because you've never said one nice thing to me." Before I could retort, she continued, "I got in a fight with Sonny. He and I—well let's just say we're close…or at least we were. Now Carly's come back and he doesn't want anything to do with me. I just need a little time to get back on my feet. I'll pay you back but I just can't right now."

Her plea was so genuine that I found myself meeting her stare, trying to prove to myself that this wasn't really Sam McCall. From what I'd heard about her, she was clingy and unpredictable. That wasn't why she'd come here now. She had no romantic interest in me, but needed a friend. Sonny had knocked her out on her ass without any warning so she needed time to regroup.

But she was a complete stranger. I knew nothing about her, other than her first and last name. Now I knew she had been Sonny's mistress. Other than that, the woman was a complete mystery. Mystery brought only danger and I'd had enough to last me.

"I don't expect you to agree right away; I mean you don't even know me. For all you know, I'm a cross dressing motorcyclist." Both the fact that she'd read my thoughts and that she'd made a joke, surprised me. Her mouth twitched and for a second I saw her beautiful smile in the dark. Why hadn't I turned on the lights? Why was I sitting in the dark with a strange woman who made jokes that made no real sense and was at once mocking me and pleading for my help?

I decided not to answer those questions or to even attempt to do so. My actions up until now didn't matter; my next move was much more important. Sighing because I knew she'd gotten to me, I replied, "There's a guest bed and bath so chances are we may not see each other. Despite the fact that we are strangers I do know a few things about you. Like the fact that you're a professional thief and have been entangled in several murder investigations. All I want from you is assurance that you won't bring any of your 'dirty laundry' into my apartment. As for paying me back, we both know you won't be able to because I won't accept it."

"But why? What I mean is—" She paused, trying to sort her thoughts out. I took the towel from her shaking hands and wiped her soaking face. The action seemed to astonish Sam. It was as if no one had ever done anything nice for her. As I thought about it, maybe no one had. Sonny had used her for sex and others had used her to pick locks. She needed someone to care about her. At the moment, I wasn't sure that I was that person but I intended to at least be civil toward her and keep her safe.

"I've seen the way Sonny is with his women and it makes me sick. It is obvious to me that he wants Carly and will get her sooner or later. You need somewhere to stay and I happen to have a spare room. We aren't friends and I have no romantic interest in you whatsoever, so you won't have to worry about me being a Sonny repeat. I have things that I must do that I can never talk about, as I'm sure you do. If you need my help, just ask. I have only one condition to you living here."

She looked at me with anticipation. I felt bad for her but made sure that my face didn't give anything away. From what I could tell, her eyes were cappuccino-brown and her hair was long and wavy. She watched me with those mesmerizing eyes, wondering what my ultimate condition might be. Despite what I'd said, she probably thought I wanted her as a lover. Having Samantha McCall in my bed was the farthest thing from my mind. For now, just taking in the sight of her was enough.

"Checkout's at noon." I surprised myself but Sam seemed to understand. I decided that in that time I could see what kind of person Samantha McCall really was. If I liked her and could stand her, then we would work out a long-term deal. She was right about me not knowing her and I didn't trust her.

I showed her upstairs to the guest bed and bath and helped her with her bag, though she protested the whole time—damn independent woman! She closed and locked the door behind her and I went to bed across the hall. Of course, when the next day rolled around, I wasn't quite ready for her to leave. We'd been together ever since. I still don't know why I allowed her to stay. Love does strange things to people, I guess.

Smiling a little at the memory, I waited for Sam to pick up. The phone didn't ring more thanonce before she picked up. "Hello? Who is this?" Her voice sounded panicked and I began to wonder what was wrong. I tried to keep the tremor of fear out of my voice when I answered her. "It's Jason. Sam is everything—" She didn't let me finish. "Jason? Where are you?" I'd never heard Sam so scared. Something was going on. "Sam, what is it? Are you all right?" If anyone had come near Sam, I'd rip his or her heart out. I didn't like how terrified she sounded. It wasn't like Sam at all. She could take care of herself.

I felt like an ass for not calling Sam last night but I'd been so tired and hadn't wanted to wake her up. The last thing I'd thought was that she would worry about me. When we'd first gotten together, we'd known that there were some situations that we couldn't discuss. Had I been selfish in not letting her in on this or had I just not wanted her to know because I was worried she might be jealous of Elizabeth?

"Jason you need to come home." Sam's voice almost cracked. What was she not telling me? "Sam, what's the matter?" Say anything, I silently begged. I needed her to tell me, even if it was bad. "It's…Jason, I need you to come back to Port Charles." "Tell me why?" She seemed hesitant to tell me and I felt my heart skip a few beats. "Jason, it's the kids." "Sonny's kids?" "Yeah." "What about them?" "There's just been a new addition." "Sam, what are you talking about?" "Alexis Davis got pregnant and gave birth to a daughter—Sonny's daughter. She was told that the baby died but today…well someone left a letter for Sonny. It was a ransom note. Basically if he doesn't send such and such money to such and such place then his daughter will die." "Alexis knew?" "No! She was told that the baby died so there was never any reason for her to tell Sonny. But now—Jason it's a madhouse here. You've got to come back."

Author's Notes: What is Jason going to do? Will he fly back to Port Charles and help Sonny or will he stay here with Liz and Em? I wanted a way to introduce Kristina so there you go. Please read and review. Until next time…