Necessary Evil

Chapter Fourteen
FF#274: Down came the rain.

Down the path, she approached, totally oblivious to his presence. Seeing her was a surprise even for him. Compared to their previousaccidentalmeetings, this one truly had been by chance. Knowing he had the day from hell awaiting him, Jason had opted to skip out on his usual morning activities, and, instead, was simply being, existing with no pressure or expectations. Sitting on a bench in the park, the only things surroundings him peace and solitude, he relaxed, savoring the first time in days he had managed to be by himself. But having Elizabeth join him was not an interruption; it was, instead, the icing on the proverbial cake.

She was walking her dog... or, more accurately, the dog was walking her. Having caught a scent, probably just a mixture of smells combining other dogs who frequented the jogging paths at the park, their owners, and any other wild animals who managed to find a quiet moment at night to come out of hiding, Iggy was on a mission, and her owner was merely along for the ride. But it didn't appear as if Elizabeth minded. Happily strolling along, she allowed her pet to determine their pace and simply kept up with the puppy, obliging the Dalmatian's willful nature.

However, despite the slightly comical picture the pair made, Jason couldn't really care less. Yes, he was glad that she liked the gift he had given her, and, yes, he was pleased that Iggy seemed to be an intelligent animal for that gave him hope that she would be aware and on guard when around her owner, but, in that moment, away from the rest of the world and the unyielding pressures it put upon them, he was just looking forward to seeing the brunette, to sitting with her in the park, to perhaps even talking to her if she had the time to stop for a few minutes. After all, not even Sonny could fault him for having a simple, polite conversation with a beautiful young woman who just so happened to choose the bench across from him to take a break on. All he had to do was to get her attention so she wouldn't breeze by him, her attention lost in thought and in the task of detaining her dog from dragging them all the way to the Canadian border.

Using his tactic from before at the diner, Jason spoke up, pretending to start a conversation with a random stranger. "I'm surprised to see anyone out walking today," he commented, glancing up at the sky in accompaniment with the bland, impersonal statement. "It's supposed to start raining any minute now."

"And November rains are always the most forlorn," the store owner added, offering him a wan, knowing smile. Petting her puppy for several moments in silence, she finally unhooked the leash and allowed the animal to run free, laughing out loud when the spotted creature ran straight for the bushes, her tail and ears alert with attack, causing all the birds which had been previously resting in the area to take flight in a loud barrage of shrill cries and alarmed songs.

"So, why are you... out walking? Trying to catch your death of cold?"

"At least I have an excuse," Elizabeth teased him, nodding towards Iggy before taking a seat across from him on a second bench just as he had wanted her to. "Why are you here?"

"I needed some fresh air, no matter how cold it might be, before tonight."

"Aw," she joked, laughing. "Hot date?" As soon as the words left her mouth, he noticed the joy flee, and the moment of weakness, of telling emotion, both caught Jason off guard and delighted him.

"Actually, no," the dirty blonde finally answered her, crossing his arms over his chest in contemplation. It wasn't as if he didn't trust her, because the truth was he did, but he had been taught since childhood that the business was to be kept a secret from all innocents at all times, especially from women. Finally deciding that, although he wouldn't lie to her, he also wouldn't give away details, the heir to the Port Charles mafia shared, "there's this meeting tonight, a pretty formal one. I have to dress up, be on my best behavior, and, generally, make nice with a bunch of men I can't stand and respect even less."

"Sounds like my childhood in a nutshell."

"While the claustrophobia might be similar, I doubt the circumstances are the same." Sighing, he smirked, effectively changing the subject. "I don't want to talk about it though. Talking won't change anything, and, from the sound of your tone, the only thing it might do is dredge up some bad memories for you that you'd rather keep buried. Back to you though. In all seriousness," he eyed her sternly. "Couldn't the dog's walk wait until tomorrow? You obviously don't have an umbrella, and I doubt you're dressed warm enough to be caught in a storm."

"I'll be fine, Dad," Elizabeth proclaimed, nodding her head in amusement at his evident protective streak. "As for the walk, no, for your information, it couldn't wait. I have plans tonight - dinner and rerun classic tv episodes with a friend of mine, and, no matter what, Iggy always gets a walk everyday. Usually, I take her out after work, but, with the storm approaching and my plans, I figured I'd take advantage of my mid-morning break from the store and we'd get a quick walk in while the weather was still holding out. Besides, you're in nothing but jeans and a tight t-shit." She blushed, glancing away from his suddenly dancing silver tinged blue eyes. "Not that I've noticed or anything, but..."

"The cold doesn't bother me that much. I'm not sure why," the young man responded, shrugging his shoulders. "I've just always been like this. I don't really feel extremes, but it comes in handy. I have my jacket, though," he assured her, "just in case you're worried about me."

"I'm not worried."

"It's with my bike," Jason continued as if she hadn't of spoken, realizing that she was simply offering him an automatic response. "And, unlike you, I am prepared for the rain. There's an umbrella in my saddlebag."

Immediately, she started giggling. "I can't imagine you carrying an umbrella. Please, complete this visual for me, and tell me that it's either bright yellow or has some cartoon character on it."

"It's black."

She rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't have guessed.

"And, for your information, I've never actually used it before." Concentrating on her countenance, he fixed her with a pointed stare. "It's there more in case I ever stumble upon someone else who needs it... you know, maybe a friend who's walking alone through the park with her dog when a rain storm is supposed to start at any minute."

"You're not going to let me leave here without that umbrella in my hands, are you," the painter asked, already standing up and gesturing for him to lead the way towards her bike. As soon as she got up, her dog ran to her side, the birds and rabbits, squirrels and chipmunks she had been chasing quickly forgotten. He joined her, walking slightly too close to her for the excuse of them being nothing but friendly strangers to be believable but not caring, but the silence they were existing under quickly evaporated with the shrill outburst of her cell phone ringing. "Excuse me," Elizabeth offered, digging rapidly through her shoulder tote for the offending device. Glancing at the caller ID before switching the mobile off, she paused, furrowed her brow, and then apologized. "I'm sorry, but I have to take this."

"Alright, stay here," the future organized crime leader directed her. "Take your call while I go and get the umbrella for you." Before stepping away, he turned and patted Iggy on the head, giving the puppy instructions, too. "Make sure she doesn't run off on me, okay girl?"

His only response was a quick, sharp bark from the Dalmatian, but it made him grin anyway as he took off at a brisk pace, quickly eating up the distance between where he had been standing with the young brunette and her dog and where he had parked his motorcycle. Grabbing the much discussed umbrella, he headed back towards his friend just in time to see her drop her phone back into her purse, an irritated frown marring her otherwise soft features.

"Is something wrong?"

"Oh, it's nothing important," she replied, waving his concerns off. "Someone just called off at The No Name, and guess who was called to see if she could cover the shift. Yep, that's right - yours truly. Ugh," the store owner groaned, stomping her foot in an adorably immature gesture of frustration. "Why is it that I have this inability to say no when someone asks a favor of me?"

"Because you're a nice person," Jason responded easily, making her blush for the second time that morning and liking his ability to do so. "I didn't think that you worked at night there anymore though?"

"Normally, I don't, but I always told the owners that, if they ever needed me, I'd be there, and, now, I'm choking on my own words. Anyway, I should be going. Duty calls," she informed him, pointing off with a distracted wave towards where her art supply shop was located. "So, when will I see you again?"

"I'm not sure," the dirty blonde admitted. "Things are kind of crazy for me right now. A lot of stuff is changing."

"Oh, I see."

"Soon though," he promised her.

And, with that, he slipped away, disappeared into the twisting turns of the park, and left her standing her with a wide smile on her face. Although he had work to do, although he had commitments and responsibilities, meetings, and an unmarked gun tucked into the back of his jeans, there was a matching grin on his lips as well.

"... came here at my Dad's request. He thought that you might need my assistance." Jason listened outside the door as a man he didn't know, a man younger than he was, smiled and preened, complimented and danced his way through his first meeting with Sonny Corinthos. Wanting more information and needing to know just how this newcomer would affect his own existence, he continued to eavesdrop outside the cracked penthouse door. Where Max was, he didn't know, and, even though it was a breech in security, he definitely wasn't going to waste an opportunity to get one step ahead of his mentor in the game they were currently playing, a game that, in the end, could very well cost him his life. "He thought you might need another good man at your side, someone who was loyal only to you."

He had to bite back a humorless smirk at the dark haired man's last comment, finding himself employing one of Elizabeth's gestures and rolling his eyes. It was obvious that the guy Sonny was talking to was giving the don a bucket full of lies, and, if he knew Sonny at all, the older man was eating them up with a spoon. Plus, the new recruit had also, apparently, seen one too many military advertisements, but, although his flowery lines of commitment were laughable, even cliche, that didn't mean that the younger man wasn't dangerous. In fact, he simply might have been confident enough to know he could get away with such blatant flattery, and that much pride and self-assuredness could prove fatal for either the person who had such a large ego or for those who went after him.

Finally the mafia boss spoke. "I've known your father for years, so it would be an honor to have you join our organization."

"Should I show him around, boss," Max offered, startling Jason. The stranger must have been the son of someone important if his presence took precedence under security procedures. The bodyguards only left their posts outside Sonny's door to attend a meeting inside when the person who had requested the meeting was worthy of their respect, and his mentor didn't find too many men worthy of such a rare gesture of good will in their business. "I could sort of take him under my wing, introduce him to all the guys."

"Thank you, Max," the don said graciously, "but that won't be necessary. I think that I'll personally see to welcoming Mr. Spencer into our world. In fact, I think he should come to the meeting tonight as my guest. How does that sound?"

"I'd be honored, Mr. Corinthos."

Jason wanted to scoff at the amount of self-congratulations occurring just a few feet away from him inside the penthouse walls, but, instead, he tried to place the name of their newest ally. He knew of a Luke Spencer, a wily, underhanded, con artist who jumped sides more often and at a much faster rate than even Benedick Arnold. The man went where the money was, where the power was the most readily available. He was like a shark circling in the tank, and the fact that Sonny was now welcoming both the elder and the younger Spencer into their organization made him take pause with worry. Either his employer was desperate, overly confident, or just plain stupid, and, as far as the Spencers went, they either wanted in on some large plan Sonny had going or they could smell blood in the Port Charles harbor. Things were suddenly just that much more dangerous, and he was thankful that he and Elizabeth were still just mere acquaintances as far as the rest of the world was concerned.

"Wonderful," Sonny's slapping of the dark haired man on the back drew the future heir's attention back towards the penthouse. "Well, why don't you go back to where you're staying and get ready for this evening. We'll all be meeting her at seven, and, from here, we'll be heading straight to The No Name for a little dinner followed by a meeting."

"Pick another place," Jason demanded, throwing the door open and making his presence known to the three men assembled inside the plush living quarters of his mentor's home. "I don't want to go to The No Name tonight."

"Jason Morgan," Sonny started the introductions. "This is Lucky Spencer. He'll be joining us tonight and in everything we do for the foreseeable future. Actually, I was thinking that the two of you might work closely together, that you'd make a good team."

"I work alone."

Snapping, the head of the organization stated, "you work however, wherever, and with whomever I want you to, and, as far as dinner tonight, we always go to The No Name. Just because you're in the mood to make demands, that does not mean that I'm in the mood to relent to your every whim. Now, get of here. I was in the middle of a private meeting, one that doesn't concern you."

"Everything in this business concerns me." As he made the announcement, the dirty blonde haired man felt assured by the cool handgun pressed into his lower back.

"Not yet," Sonny practically taunted him. "And not this." Without another word, the door to the penthouse was slammed in his face and locked.

The rain came down all around him as the first time visitor to Port Charles stepped off the train. Quickly gathering his things, he made his way towards the awaiting depot and then the outside world of a town overrun with organized crime and opportunities to make a name for oneself. He had always been a big city man before, preferring to perform his business and offer his services to those in charge in New York, L.A., and Miami, but there was something about Port Charles that attracted the elite of the underground. Whether it was the prime location to both Canada and the Midwest through the St. Lawrence Seaway and the great lakes and to the ocean with the Hudson river and its connections to the Hudson Bay to the north and New York City to the south or the sheer amount of strength it took to maintain control of the riverside hamlet, whatever the reason for its importance, he was about to make his own impression upon the backwater village, and, before things were said and done, everyone would know who Ric Lansing was. Everyone.