Prompt - Always do sober what you said you'd do drunk

--Chapter 12--

.:ELQ, Main Lobby:.

He had felt his phone buzz during the meeting that Edward had requested and as Jason Morgan hurried out of the elevator, relieved to be done with the calculating old man for the afternoon, he pulled it out of his pocket to see who had been in need of his services.

The number flashing on the screen was mildly surprising, but he found himself getting more and more used to the occurrence. The voicemail message began to play as he walked past the receptionists' desk and headed straight for the revolving doors.

"Morgan, it's me, Carly. I have a huge favor to ask. You know the penthouse you pointed out in the newspaper? I already checked it out once but I'm honest enough to admit that I don't know much about that stuff, so I was wondering if you could swing by and talk to the landlord and check out the figures and all that stuff to make sure no one's trying to rob me blind. I tried to get a hold of Junior, but he's in Washington for the week and Nikolas is tied up with Cassidine stuff on the island, so you're my last resort. The appointment is this evening at six o'clock; the landlord should be there but even if he's running late, he promised to leave it open for you. If you do this for me, I promise not to call you Moneybags anymore…to your face. Thanks."

He rolled his eyes and slipped the phone back into his pocket, pulling out his keys. He had enough time to grab a really late lunch and take care of some errands and still make it in time to inspect Carly's new place.

.:Jake's, Roof:.

Elizabeth Drake brushed the dirt and debris off of her handiwork-jeans and surveyed the roof one last time. She had spent all afternoon re-inspecting her work from the previous week after a dream the night before where the entire damn place collapsed on her while she was singing an operetta in the shower dressed like Lamb Chop. The whole thing had been pretty silly, to be sure, but not silly enough to prevent her from scurrying up to the rooftop as soon as she had a spare chunk of time.

But everything appeared to be in order and the petite brunette made quick work of dumping her tools back into her sparkly red toolbox with the Grateful Dead stickers and closing the latch. Her phone was sitting attached to the toolbox by her lanyard and she quickly untied it when she saw that she had missed a message. Hoping that it was at least from the previous forty-eight hours, she flipped to her voicemail and waited for it to play.

"Hey, Elle, it's me. Guess what? I found the most perfect place ever for us! It's this gorgeous little penthouse in Harborview Towers, with an even more gorgeous landlord! Anyway, I wanted you to check it out – it's number 2 on the fourth floor, and be sure to show up at exactly ten after six tonight, okay? And if you run into the landlord…you'd better not hit on him, because he's mine. Mine. His name is Sonny Corinthos and holy Hell, Elle, you're going to kill me for even thinking this, but he's even hotter than Westley. Dark hair, olive skin, these ultra-cute dimples…Oh, hold on, he's standing, like, three feet away from me. Gotta go. Remember – be there! Six-ten tonight! Love ya, Elle."

Smirking to herself, Elizabeth flipped her phone shut and tied it to her belt loop before grabbing her toolbox and making her way over to the ladder resting against the side wall of Jake's. She had just enough time to shower and grab an iced coffee before swinging by Harborview Towers to check out her and Carly's new digs.

.:Harborview Towers, Fourth Floor, Penthouse II:.

"Hello, you must be Elle," a well-dressed, dark-haired man who could only be Sonny Corinthos greeted her as she stepped off the elevator. "I'm Michael Corinthos, but everyone calls me Sonny. I've heard so much about you."

Elizabeth smiled graciously and shook his hand, taking a quick glance at his watch and feeling relieved at having made it at exactly quarter after six. It had been a bit of a workout, but she made it almost on time. "Good things, I hope," she joked, allowing Sonny to lead her toward the penthouse. "With my sister, you never can tell."

The Cuban laughed and quietly slipped his key into the lock, turning it so that it didn't make much noise. "Oh, excellent things. Things like, you're an artist, a musician, you run Jake's, and you love wall-to-wall, a great view, and spacious closets."

The brunette grinned, stepping inside when he held the door for her. "Oh, yeah, that's true. From what Carly's already told me, I'm sure I'm going to love—Sonny?"

She frowned, whipping around when she heard the door shut behind her, the click echoing in the large empty room with a tone of finality. "Hey-"

A rusty chuckle could be heard outside and the next thing she knew, she heard the clicking of a lock…an external lock…and something being wedged under the doorknob just in case.

"What the hell-" She'd been locked into her prospective new pad by the creepy landlord. Great – this was just great. And as if the situation couldn't get any worse, Elizabeth soon realized that she wasn't alone.

"Elizabeth?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, her lips pursing into a thin red line. "…Jason."

"What the hell just happened?" he demanded, marching over from where he had been inspecting the mantle. Elizabeth watched reluctantly as he tried the knob, jerking it hard but finding it of no use due to the very impractical external lock. "Did he just lock us in here?"

"What are you doing here?" she interrupted his escape efforts as he tugged on the door.

"Carly – called – told me to – check this place out," he grunted, looking as if he was about to tear the door off its hinges in his haste to get away from her. "Let me guess…she did the same thing to you."

Elizabeth huffed, pressing her fingertips to her temple and hoping that if she held her breath long enough, this whole thing would go away. "When we get out of here, I'm so setting fire to her shoe closet. What's a little arson between sisters?"

Jason was still staring at the door and heaved a heavy sigh, knowing that trying to get out was of no use. And as luck would have it, he'd left his cell phone and his briefcase in his car, which was locked and tucked neatly away in the heated private garage that Harborview Towers also boasted. In his defense, he figured that it would only take him fifteen, twenty minutes, tops, to check the place out and go over the details with the landlord.

He ran a hand through his hair, still eyeing the doorknob before turning around to face his companion. As usual, it took him a few minutes to get over himself when it came to her outfit. Elizabeth Drake was dressed in a pair of cargo green knickers that fit her extremely well with a matching low-cut vest with flirty cap sleeves. Her hair was down and straight, and a pair of high-heeled green sandals completed the look while emphasizing her shapely calves.

She cleared her throat, aware of his staring and not particularly flattered. Jason shook himself out of it and glanced at the doorknob, knowing that even if he were to ask her for one of her bobby pins it would do no good because the knob wasn't the problem: the ball-and-chain mechanism two inches from the top of the door was.

"Do you have your phone with you?" he asked, hoping beyond hope that she hadn't dropped it in a sewer on her way over or let it fall in the hedges again.

Her brows furrowed as she began to hunt through her hemp purse, pulling out all sorts of odds and ends that he didn't even waste time trying to distinguish. Frustrated, she plopped down on the carpeted floor, Indian-style, and dumped out all the contents before rooting through them like a child in search of a plaything.

He knew before she did that her phone was indeed missing. Elizabeth clapped a forehead to her hand, suddenly remembering where she had left it. "It's in the washing machine!"

Jason blinked, not sure he had heard right. "It's where?"

"In the washing machine," she repeated, frustrated. "I was on the roof and I had it tied to my belt loop and then I came down and changed to come here and I threw my jeans in the wash so I'd remember to run a load of laundry later when I got back and…it's in the damn washing machine."

He sighed, knowing it had been a stretch at best, and moved back toward the door. Elizabeth watched blandly as he tried the door again, pounding on it and issuing a few obscenities toward the landlord who by now was probably having celebratory drinks with Carly.

"Give it a rest, Fred," she sighed, dumping her things back into her purse. "Wilma ain't coming."

"Huh?"

"…Never mind," Elizabeth muttered, standing up and adjusting her knickers. She stood still for a moment and was about to head for the mantle when she thought better of it and removed her shoes first, walking over to a corner to set them down.

She saw Jason quirk a questioning gaze her way before reluctantly bending down to untie his black calfskin shoes. "It'd be a shame to ruin the carpet," she replied absently, dropping her purse in the same corner with her shoes.

"Step in that same puddle of beer three times again?" he asked dryly, taking off his jacket and looking around for some place to hang it. Finding nothing and suddenly realizing that he didn't care, Jason tossed it aside to land near his shoes and undid the top two buttons of his shirt.

"No," the little sprite replied witheringly. "…I stepped in drying mud when I was running through the park on my way over."

"Why were you running through the park in heels?" Jason asked, wondering if he'd ever understand anything the little woman did.

"I wasn't running of my own choice," she huffed, crossing her arms at her waist and turning her back to him as she surveyed the penthouse. "…I was being chased."

"By who?"

His anxiety gave way to relief and mild amusement when she sighed, her shoulders slumping before she reluctantly offered a reply. "Squirrels. A whole gang of them."

"Damn kamikaze rodents."

That made her smile until she remembered how much she disliked Jason Morgan as of a few nights ago. She waited a minute to compose herself and then resumed looking around the penthouse.

It was actually quite nice. The kitchen was very spacious and led into a huge laundry room with a brand new washer-dryer set. The dining room was joined to the living room where the large mantle and fireplace took up most of the space. The rooms upstairs were nice, also. There was a very large master bedroom with a closet large enough to hold all of Carly's shoes, as Herculean a feat as that was. The other two bedrooms were spacious as well and would do quite nicely for her stuff. And whatever didn't fit would just stay at Jake's in the tiny office rooms upstairs. The bathrooms were outfitted with Jacuzzis, which Elizabeth was a big fan of, and there were two extra rooms that Elizabeth knew Carly would want to turn into an exercise room and an office. The exercise room would become a studio, though, if she had anything to say about it.

Downstairs, Jason could hear Elizabeth move from one room to the other. With a heavy sigh, he raked a hand through his hair and cursed the blonde viper he had made the mistake of calling an almost-friend. If Carly knew what was best for everyone, she'd leave him and Elizabeth alone instead of trying to play matchmaker. What made the situation even more confusing was that he knew Carly didn't want him and her stepsister together simply because she thought they couldn't stand each other.

Realizing that he'd never be able to figure those two women out, Jason decided to stop trying as he moved toward the balcony doors, drawn by the setting sun. The view really was nice, and he was sure that it would inspire Elizabeth's artistic muse.

The summer breeze rustled gently through the nearby trees, and a flapping noise soon caught his attention. There, taped to the balcony banister, was a folded up piece of yellow paper.

Curious, Jason picked it off the wood and unfolded it carefully, mildly surprised to see that it was from his arch-nemesis herself.

Hey kids,

There's plenty of food and a six-pack or two stocked in the refrigerator and there are some blankets in the front closet. Sonny also left some wood and a poker in the kitchen cabinets. And don't waste time trying to escape – there's a doorman posted in the hall to make sure no one gets in or out. So grab a beer, start a fire, and get cozy! Also, you both owe me big for this. I'm thinking…shoes. Nikolas doesn't want anything; that idiot is doing this out of the goodness of his jewel-encrusted heart. We have so much to teach him about the world.

Love (only to Elle, though; Jason, you can go choke),
Carly and Nikolas

He swore under his breath and resisted the urge to crumple the note up and toss it away. Instead, Jason stepped off the balcony and leaned against the doorjamb, looking around the empty penthouse in bewilderment as his houseguest continued to squeal about closets.

Those two idiots thought they were doing them a favor. A muscle in his jaw ticked as Jason refolded the note, creasing it hard with his fingernails, already planning on how to repay their 'generosity'. He absently dropped the note on the mantle, slipping his hands into his pockets as he roamed the large room, still thinking.

Elizabeth hopped down the stairs, skipping the last two and taking a leap to the bottom. She wore a beaming grin and there was excitement written all over her face but as soon as she saw her companion once more, the need to gush fled away and she quickly sobered up.

"Do you think there's any food here?" she asked reluctantly, feeling her stomach growl.

"I'll check," Jason offered hurriedly, already on his way to the kitchen.

Shrugging at his abrupt departure, Elizabeth tucked her open hair behind her ears and continued exploring. Someone had professionally cleaned the carpet because she couldn't find a stray dust bunny or spot. The fireplace was also recently cleaned and even stocked with fresh wood in case someone wanted to start a fire. The mantle, however, was another story. It was coated in a fine layer of dust and Elizabeth frowned as she ran her finger over it. Someone had also left out a can of bug spray, which she found horrible since the cartoon spiders on the bottle had as much a right to live as anyone.

She picked up the can of spray, intending to stuff it away in a cabinet before Jason found it and went on a killing spree, but spied a piece of paper underneath. Curious now, she pulled it down and quickly unfolded it to see her sister's feminine scrawl.

Elizabeth let out a heavy sigh when she finished reading it, the bug spray instantly forgotten and replaced on the mantle. Her sister was an idiot. A complete idiot. Her intentions were good, but she had apparently never heard of the road to Hell. She'd be finding all of her Foo Fighters CDs in the oven very soon if she had anything to say about it.

"There are sandwiches and beer in the fridge," she heard Jason mumble from the kitchen, and Elizabeth instantly folded up the note and stuck it in her bra, not wanting Jason to see it. She replaced the can of bug spray where she had found it and casually wandered over to the closet by the front door as Jason appeared with sandwiches and frosty bottles in hand.

"Oh, look," she exclaimed, feigning surprise as she pulled the door open. "Someone left blankets in here. That's handy."

Jason didn't say anything as she tugged one down and spread it in the middle of the living room for them to eat on. Dinner was a quiet affair; a painfully quiet affair. Jason sat on one end of the blanket with his food and Elizabeth sat at the opposite end, and the two of them did their best not to look at each other the whole time.

He finished his sandwich first and calmly sipped his beer as he waited for her to be done. As soon as she was, Jason hastily stood and collected the paper products, quickly taking hers as well and disappeared into the kitchen to find some way to dispose of them.

Elizabeth waited patiently as he hid out in the kitchen, playing with the ends of her hair as she counted the dots on the ceiling. The silence had been almost unbearable while they ate, and the whole situation was really beginning to bug her. Jason acted as if nothing had happened; he was as rigidly polite as he ever was. And that just wasn't right, considering what had happened at the disastrous Bacchanalian Ball. She wasn't about to let him get away with that any time soon, either.

Finally, he reappeared and reluctantly shuffled back into the main room. This time, though, Jason remained standing by the balcony and looking out at the rest of Port Charles with the sparkling harbor twinkling in the background.

"So I guess your manners are reserved for intimate gatherings, huh?" she asked casually, pulling her knees up against her chest and casually resting her hands there.

He looked at her strangely and glared when he understood what she meant.

"I mean, I guess I can kind of understand that," Elizabeth continued, tapping her finger thoughtfully against her chin. "I mean, in small gatherings, any rudeness is contained and just a game of he-said-she-said, anyway. In larger groups, like at balls and such, you have to really watch out or you might piss off the wrong people. And no one wants that."

"Just when I was thinking about how nice and quiet it was in here…" he muttered, still staring out at the town.

"Sorry to disappoint," she snipped back, resting her palms on the blanket behind her and leaning back comfortably. "I'm good at that, you know. Disappointing, that is. It comes really easily for me, actually – that's why Carly was kind of worried when I agreed to come to the Bacchanalian with her. I mean, stiffing Stefan three islands and a couple of jewels is one thing, but she was worried that I'd tell your best friend where to stick it, and that would make her job even more difficult."

Jason looked at her blandly, not at all following what she was babbling about. "My best friend?"

"Edward Quartermaine," came the instant reply. "I mean, you kiss his ass often enough, which is surprising considering how much you pretend to dislike him."

"I don't pretend."

"I disagree," Elizabeth quipped, running a hand through her long chestnut mane and barely noticing how his eyes followed the suggestive movement. "I think you've got the Mr. Darcy act down pat."

"Mr. Darcy?"

"Oh, come on, think back to high school, Morgan."

"I know who Mr. Darcy is," came the frustrated grunt. "I have a sister. What I don't know is what the hell you think you're talking about."

"If you know who Mr. Darcy is, then you're familiar with the persona, which you have to be because you embody it so well. The seemingly arrogant, terse, proper rich guy who's actually just shy and is a really fabulous person after all. I have to admit, it's really a great scam you're running here, Morgan."

"I'm not running any scam," he persisted, all the while wondering why he was allowing her to rope him into an argument yet again. "Ever think that maybe you're just paranoid?"

"Oh, I'm a lot of things, Jason," Elizabeth replied proudly. "I'm artistic, I'm kind of flighty, I'm independent, I'm very up on my pop culture references, and I'm super pissed off at-"

"-At me."

"-at myself for thinking that you were a decent guy when it's clear that you're just a world-class jackass," she finished, her blazing sapphire eyes boring lethally into his. "I can't believe I ever thought any different."

"Glad to set you straight," he muttered, turning around once more and resuming his study of the quiet town.

She gaped at him, stunned that he had nothing else to say for his callous behavior. Huffing to herself, she turned around on the seat of her pants so that her back was toward him and began staring hard at the closed – and locked – door that stood between her and freedom.

"Edward Quartermaine can have you," she muttered under her breath. "You're practically twins, anyway."

That got his attention right away and Jason stood upright instantly at the near-blasphemous statement. "What?"

"Nothing," came the reply.

But Jason was already stomping over to the blanket, the cuffs of his pressed dress pants dragging slightly on the carpet. "No – What did you say?"

"I said Edward can have you," she snipped petulantly. "You're identical in every way, anyway."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

With a huff, Elizabeth turned around on her seat and glared up at him, motioning to the blanket. "Ooh, big man, standing six feet over my head. What, you afraid to wrinkle your fancy pants, Morgan? Sit down."

He scowled but did as she told him until they sat facing each other on the cream-colored blanket. Elizabeth scowled back, refusing to be intimidated by him. "You know, I know Edward. I know what he's like, thanks to Carly. He gave her Hell when she first accepted her position on the board. She was young, she was a woman, and worst of all, she didn't come from money."

Jason stared at her, his eyes bland and bored as he waited for her to stumble upon her point.

"He'd belittle all of her suggestions whether they were any good or not, he'd sabotage her personal relationships, he'd try to keep tabs on her at all times so that he'd have something to hang over her head," she continued, getting more and more frustrated with each word.

"He'd make her feel like she didn't count, and he'd treat her with as much passive disrespect as possible," Elizabeth added. "And you're the same way – as far as the derision and passive-aggression goes. I don't know why what happened at the Bacchanalian surprised me, but it did. Because I never thought that you were like that. I mean, I knew that you were a rigid, stuffy tightass who-"

Jason glowered at her, not liking the turn this conversation was taking. "I'm not-"

But Elizabeth wasn't done. "You know what surprises me the most? That you're not even ashamed of what you did!"

He let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, I'm sorry if I hurt you-"

"No, I don't think you are," she disagreed. "I think that for whatever reason, you meant to do what you did. You meant to avoid me for as long as you could. You meant to be cold and stand-off-ish when I tried to talk to you. You meant to let Edward come up and go all Spanish Inquisition on my butt about the horrible, depraved rat hole that I was letting his underage granddaughter step into."

"I told him that you didn't serve-"

"You meant to let him tear down art and music in general as complete wastes of time," the seething brunette continued, not stopping for a breath. "And you meant to let him dismiss me in his typical, snobby, head-up-his-ass way because I wasn't important to him in a social or fiscal way. You meant to do all of that – when you had already agreed to go to the ball with me. Boy, you must have enjoyed it. You and your pals must have laughed your asses off after I left the bar – gone on and on about how fun it would be to put Elle Drake in her place."

"It's not like that," he cut in, his voice tight and lethal. "I wasn't trying to humiliate you."

"Well, I'm lucky enough that I don't give a shit even if you were," she replied coolly. "What I'm more upset about is being blind-sided. I've thought about it and thought about it, but I can't figure out what the hell it was all for. Who knows – maybe you were just trying to get on Edward's good side. Kiss-ass."

"What the hell would I want to get on Edward's good side for?" he responded hotly, scowling at her. "I can't stand him. I can't stand him, my father couldn't stand him, and my grandfather sure as hell couldn't stand him! He has nothing I want, nothing I need, so why would I waste my time with him?"

"You tell me," came the casual reply as Elizabeth flipped her hair over her shoulder. "He stuck pretty close to you all night – you two must have been up to something."

That only made his frown deepen. "Edward always sticks pretty close to me."

The brunette stopped, remembering that it was the truth. Jason had always told her that Edward liked to stay near him and watched his every move like a hawk. She remained silent for a good moment and Jason grew increasingly uneasy, especially when he saw her eyes gleam with a knowing look.

"Oh, my God," she muttered, her lips twitching into a half-smile. "I get it now. It all makes sense."

He scowled at the infuriating brunette, not liking being out of the loop. "What does?"

"I get it," she chuckled to herself. "Oh, man, I get it."

"Get what?"

"I get why you were such an asshole," she beamed, her eyes dancing in the pink light of the setting sun.

Jason frowned. "I told you, I'm not interested in-"

"It was Edward," she interrupted, grinning openly now. "It was Edward all along. Oh, man, why didn't I listen to Carly? She's the one that told me no matter what, it's always Edward."

"What's always Edward?"

"Fine, Jason, if you're going to be dense, I'll spell it out for you," Elizabeth offered, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Although this is probably going to be more painful for you and your Goliath-size-ego. You stayed away from me at the Bacchanalian Ball even though we had a date because of Edward."

"I don't do anything because of Edward," came the indignantly growled reply.

"I disagree," she responded instantly. "I think you do a ton of stuff because of Edward – whether you know it or not."

Jason didn't like the sound of that at all. "Edward Quartermaine doesn't control what I do."

"Really," she drawled, playing with a lock of her hair and not realizing how distracting the movement was from his standpoint. "Because I think that you passed up a chance to have a fabulous time with an even more fabulous girl just because you were afraid of what Edward would do."

Her ability to pinpoint his motives had him speechless for a moment. "I wasn't afraid-"

"You were terrified," she interjected, also not realizing how annoying that was starting to become. "You knew that he'd hone in on us immediately and get to work trying to perform a lobotomy on me so that I'd support him on whatever ELQ crap you two disagreed about so that I'd fight his battles for him, or whatever else he had planned. It's been the same way with Carly and Jax – I've seen it. And because you didn't want Edward to control you like that…you let him control you like that."

Jason scowled, hating how she had dissected what had been a very complicated decision so quickly and so easily. "Edward has nothing to do with this."

"With what?" she feigned, batting her lashes innocently.

"With us," he growled, more than frustrated with her antics now.

"But, Jason," she got out, her eyes as wide as saucers. "I wasn't even aware there was an us."

He rolled his eyes, wondering why she always made him want to slam his fist through something. "You know what I mean."

"Not really."

It took a long, cleansing breath to calm him down enough to reply. She was right – this would be painful for him, no thanks to her. "I…When I met you, I thought that…there might be something worth exploring there."

"Funny," she smirked, the picture of innocence. "When I met you, I thought you were a total ape."

He glared at her, further irritated by her knowing smirk. "You're not like any other woman I've ever met, Elizabeth. I wanted to get to know you until…"

"Until?"

"Until I figured out that we wouldn't work," he replied simply, hating that he had to say this to her but knowing it was the only way to end things. "We're too different."

"You're a little country, I'm a little rock-and-roll," she sang out, chuckling to herself.

Jason looked blandly at her, telling her in that single glare that he was serious. "It wouldn't work, that's all. And it's better that we figure that out now than later when we're both too in this to-"

"Oh, man, you like me," she smirked, her glossed lips curving upward into a wicked grin. "You really like me."

He let out a huff, completely exasperated with her antics. "Are you always this self-confident?"

"Yes," came the irritating answer.

Jason rolled his eyes, not sure how to best get through to her. "If we went ahead and…and…started seeing each other-"

"Then we'd wind up married and have lots of babies," she announced, her smirk slipping away when she saw his complexion turn a few shades paler. "Oh, relax, Morgan – I was just kidding. I only want two."

She was still laughing by the time he figured out that she was once again joking. Running a hand through his hair, Jason tried to assess how to best talk to her so she'd listen. "You wouldn't want someone like me, Elizabeth."

To her credit and his surprise, the outspoken little sprite remained quiet at that statement, watching him with amusement and genuine curiosity mingling in her expressive sapphire orbs.

Pursing his lips together, Jason struggled to continue. He hated having conversations like this because he wasn't any good at it, and Elizabeth had already made it clear that she wasn't going to do the talking for him.

"I don't talk much, I don't like music and I don't know how to dance, I don't go out much, I'm obsessed with my work, I plan everything out to the last detail, I hate surprises, I'm stubborn, my priorities are constantly-"

Elizabeth was smirking to herself while he talked and slowly lifted herself up off the blanket and scooted forward, climbing into his lap as he sat cross-legged on the floor and cutting his words off with her mouth.

Jason's eyes widened as she pressed her lips to his, teasingly at first, then harder. Her arms were around his neck, her fingers skimming underneath the collar of his pressed dress shirt before moving higher to play with the golden hairs at the nape of his neck.

The touch was electric and Jason could only sit still as she cuddled closer, tracing the line between his lips with her velvety tongue before quickly slipping it into his mouth. She offered him only a brief, fleeting taste of her sweetness before she pulled back enough to look smugly into his stunned cerulean orbs.

"Did you like that surprise?"