Notes: chapter title is from "seeing blind" by niall horan & maren morris.

DISCLAIMER: as usual, { I own nothing }, & any dialogue in italics comes directly from the show & is credited to the writers. :-)


two / you just took me by surprise

… … …

There are a lot of things he loves about being a detective in Port Charles. Being a detective is never a mundane job, but he finds that in a town like this, he's never short of work to do when he's on the clock. There's always something - robbery, extortion, murder, kidnapping, assault. There's never a dull moment here, and he rarely has downtime to let his mind wander.

Apparently, his mind doesn't need downtime to wander. Not when it comes to Willow.

It's not like he's daydreaming about her, or anything. Though if he was, who could blame him? She's gorgeous and smart and witty and clearly has her priorities in order. But what really intrigues him is the mystery behind it all. In his experience, women don't just show up in a strange town with a baby, alone, without some kind of story to tell. How did she end up here? Why Port Charles? What (or who) is she running from?

He's a detective, okay? He's naturally curious, and she's a puzzle that he's itching to put together.

She clearly doesn't trust him. He's assuming that, given what little information Lulu gave him and what he's gathered from their few encounters so far, she doesn't trust many people at all. It makes sense, he muses, especially if she's running from something. (Or someone.) He offered to help her for a lot of reasons - duty to his title, a way to connect with her, genuine desire to help someone in trouble - but he should've known better than to ambush her like that. It's just that any level of concern from Lulu is a pretty reliable indicator that something is wrong, and his detective instincts won't leave him alone when he senses there's a problem.

What if she's in danger? Worse yet, what if her son is in danger?

He may or may not have used his privileges and security clearance to do a little digging. Just through public records, to see if he can gain any insight into who she is or what kind of trouble she might be in. Funnily enough, the first record of a Willow Tait anywhere is a certificate of a legal name change, finalized by the state in early June. Her previous name is redacted, which in his experience is likely for security purposes. Evidently, whatever she's running from is bad enough that she felt the need to change her name to stay hidden.

He takes the dead end as a sign that he's not meant to know anything about her past, that he's not meant to get involved, at least on a professional level. Maybe someday, if he's lucky, she'll trust him enough to open up to him, or even to let him help her. But clearly, for now, he needs to set his burning curiosity aside and let it go, especially because Willow made it clear she doesn't want his help. He would be more persistent, but he's kind of hoping he'll run into her a lot, and if he ever wants a shot with her, he figures now would be a good time to back off. And, as a result, maybe he can actually focus on his work instead of creating idle theories in his head about her life before Port Charles.

He leans back in his chair and stifles a yawn, and Valerie looks up from her paperwork, shoots him a smirk. "You look beat, Harrison."

He narrows his eyes at her, mildly annoyed by her fascination with his first name. So few people call him Harrison that he rarely even answers to it. He decides to ignore it, doesn't want to give her the satisfaction. Instead, he runs his hand over his face tiredly. "I think I'm going cross-eyed."

She leans back in her chair, crosses her arms over her chest. "Well, you've been staring at the same witness statement for the last two hours," she reasons. She quirks a brow. "A little distracted, Detective? Got a hot date, or something?"

He rolls his eyes and busies himself closing the case file, gathering his things. "Maybe if you actually focused on your work instead of worrying about my love life, you could go home sometime soon."

She waves him off, unphased. "I'm going out for a beer with some of the guys after work, anyway," she reminds him. She furrows her brow, her eyes following him as he locks up his desk. "You're coming, aren't you?"

Without a trace of hesitation, Chase shakes his head. "Nah. Like you said, I'm beat. I think I'll just head home, order takeout."

Valerie rolls her eyes at him. "You know, Harrison," she starts, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her desk. "You're allowed to have a little fun every once in a while. Just because our work is serious doesn't mean we always have to be."

He's heard some variation of the same from multiple people during his time in Port Charles. Even Commissioner Ashford occasionally lays into him for being so uptight. Despite what his coworkers apparently think of him, he does like to have a good time, and he does have a sense of humor. But he's been trying for so long to rebuild his reputation, to atone for mistakes he's made in the past, that sometimes it's hard to remember to let his guard down at work.

Sure, he could go out with the guys (and Valerie) tonight, have a few beers, maybe let loose and show them who Harrison Chase is - without the Detective title. But honestly, he's not in the mood to be social tonight, and besides, it's not like anyone really expects him to go anyway. He might throw off the dynamic if he showed up, make things awkward for everyone. Really, he's doing them a favor by going home.

"I'll try and remember that," he says sarcastically, shooting her a smirk as he slings his bag onto his shoulder. "Take it easy, Spencer."

Valerie sighs in resignation. "Back at'cha, Chase."

There's a split second, as he's waiting for the elevator, when he considers changing his mind. His plans for the night aren't very exciting, after all. But it's only a split second, and by the time the elevator opens, all he wants to do is stop by Charlie's to pick up takeout and head home to watch the Sox game. Maybe he'll even open a new bottle of wine, try something different tonight for a change.

No wonder he's such a popular guy. His life is thrilling, really.

(Maybe next time Lulu tries to set him up on a date, he'll take her up on it.)

… … …

It's not that she doesn't trust Chase; it's hard not to trust him when Lulu clearly does. And even though she's been conditioned to be skeptical of law enforcement, from what she knows of Detective Chase, he's known for going by the book in all areas of his job. So no, trust is not the problem. It's just that she doesn't know him. She feels she can trust him on a professional level, but personally? There are things that she hasn't even told Lulu about her past, and the thought of some well-meaning but overzealous detective digging up details about her life makes her stomach roll uneasily.

Some things - in her case, most things, actually - are just better left in the past.

Lulu, incidentally, does not agree. A point which she makes clear as she takes a seat on her sofa next to Willow, hands her friend a steaming cup of tea, pulls her feet up underneath her. Jaxon's been sleeping for the better part of the last two hours, and even though she's exhausted from the week, Willow decided she would give herself a little Monday after-school treat and have tea with Lulu while he naps. She should have known Lulu wouldn't pass up a chance to grill her about her 'chance' encounter with Chase at her apartment last week.

"Chase can help you, Willow," she insists, cradling her mug between her hands. "I know you prefer not to discuss what happened in the past - what led you here - but if there's something you're running from… it can't hurt to have him on your side, that's all I'm saying. And Chase is extremely loyal to people he cares about."

"Well, he clearly cares about you," Willow comments, sipping her tea slowly, wincing at the temperature. She's not a big fan of tea to begin with, but November in Port Charles is so damn cold that she'll take any excuse to drink something warm at this point. She clears her throat and takes the opportunity to steer the attention away from herself. "It's sweet, how he looks after you and the kids with Dante away."

Lulu narrows her eyes playfully, pointing a finger accusingly. "Don't change the subject," she warns. "And you're right, it is sweet, but it's also just who he is. Even if Dante hadn't asked him to do it, he probably would've found a way to keep an eye on us anyway. And even though you haven't asked him to do it, he'll be keeping an eye on you, too."

Willow rolls her eyes, pulls her legs up underneath her to relax into the sofa. "I don't need anyone to keep an eye on me," she insists. She's momentarily distracted when Jaxon stirs in his bassinet, and she's almost disappointed that he falls right back to sleep. "And I definitely don't need anyone digging into business that isn't theirs to know. The whole point of moving here was to make a fresh start, Lulu." She pauses, swallows, tries to keep her voice steady through her nerves. "It's better for me, better for everyone if the life I left behind stays there."

Lulu holds her free hand up in defeat. "Okay," she concedes. "I get it. You're entitled to handle your business however you want. As long as you know that at the first sign of trouble, I'm bringing Chase into the fold, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

Willow can't help but smile at that. She would expect nothing less, honestly. "You're a good friend, and I'm grateful to know that you're in my corner. And Jaxon's corner, too."

Lulu shrugs, waves her off, sips her tea slowly. The smile that crosses her face is like a Cheshire cat. "But since we're talking about Chase…" Willow groans as Lulu smirks into her mug. "I've mentioned he's single, haven't I?" she asks innocently.

"Once or twice." Willow narrows her eyes at her friend playfully.

"Look," Lulu sighs "In all seriousness, there's no pressure, okay? I know you say you're not ready to date, and that's fine, but Chase is not just single, he's lonely. He would never admit it, but he spends all his time either at work, at home, or having dinner over here. At the very least, he could use a friend."

"So you're saying I should take pity on him." Willow quirks her brow in amusement. "Won't that do wonders for his ego."

Lulu rolls her eyes. "No, I'm saying he's a great guy who deserves to have great people in his life, and you're a great person, Willow." Her eyes sparkle conspiratorially. "And I would also like to point out that since I'm hereby officially offering my childcare expertise anytime you want to go out, that excuse is no longer valid."

"Duly noted," Willow concedes with a smirk. "And irrelevant, because I have no desire to date anyone right now, let alone a detective with a hero complex."

Lulu smirks devilishly. "Don't knock it 'til you've tried it, girlfriend."

… … …

By the time Friday night rolls around, Chase has been buried in his work so long that he's desperate for a little human interaction with someone other than Valerie and Commissioner Ashford. He tries to coax Finn into meeting him for a drink, but of course, he's busy. He thinks about calling Michael, but honestly, Lulu's been hounding him to come to dinner all week long, so he decides now's as good a time as any to appease her. And really, he knows she just wants to throw he and Willow together again, and he's not entirely opposed to the idea.

Because try as he might, he hasn't been able to stop thinking about her.

It's kind of embarrassing, actually, how much he finds himself thinking about her. It's not like they've spent any real time together, and he really doesn't even know her very well at all. But he knows enough to pique his interest, and not even just in a professional capacity. Sure, the mystery of it all is fascinating to him, but she's pretty fascinating all on her own. He finds that he wants to spend time with her, to get to know her, to see if the inside is as beautiful as the outside.

(His gut says that's the case, but, you know, he's been wrong before.)

Though Lulu is happy to have him for dinner, he could hear the chaos on the background on the phone, and he can only imagine the kind of crazy she's been dealing with today. And his suspicions are only confirmed when he lets himself into the house and finds Lulu pacing the living room, attempting to soothe a very unhappy Jaxon.

"Oh, thank God you're here," Lulu groans before he can say anything. She quickly moves toward him, holding poor red-faced Jaxon out of in front of her. "Take him. Please. I'm about to lose it."

His eyes widen uneasily. He's held his share of babies in his life, but he's not sure he knows how to comfort a crying, screaming baby. Lulu's clearly desperate, and he doesn't know what to do other than take him from her. "Is everything okay?" he asks warily, pressing the little guy up against his chest.

Lulu throws her hands up in exasperation. "He just won't stop screaming," she sighs. "He didn't nap today, so I think he's overtired, but he just won't fall asleep. And I'm just… it's been a long day, and I'm losing my patience, and I've got shrimp fried rice simmering on the stove, and apparently I can't multitask the way I could when my kids were little."

Chase furrows his brow. Jaxon continues to wail, and he bounces him a little, runs his hand up and down his tiny back. "Where's Willow?"

"Parent-teacher conferences," she reminds him. "Today was the last day. It's not her fault, so don't go making any arrests, Detective." She rolls her eyes. "Just help a girl out, would you? Let me finish making dinner and I'll take over."

She quickly disappears into the kitchen, and he finds himself a loss. Jaxon's still screaming, his red little face scrunched up in anger. He supposes he can't blame him - he can only imagine how frustrating it must be to rely on everyone else to take care of you, to have no real way to communicate your needs. And on the flip side, he kind of marvels at the fact that Willow handles this kind of thing on her own, that she somehow miraculously figures out what Jaxon needs. As he moves around the living room, humming an Eagles song his dad used to listen to all the time, he contemplates the strength, the determination, the sheer force of will it must take for her to balance everything on a daily basis. And yet, she makes it look effortless.

Which is truly a feat, because calming Jaxon down proves to be decidedly not effortless. He paces and bounces and hums and after what feels like eternity, the little boy's eyes finally begin to droop. His cries fade into whimpers, and when Lulu re-emerges from the kitchen, Jaxon's fast asleep in his arms as he reclines on the sofa, watching the Sox game.

"Looks like you don't really need me to take over," she murmurs, taking a seat next to him, running her hand over Jaxon's head. "Impressive."

He shrugs. It's not like he did anything special. "It was only a matter of time anyway," he reasons. "He's clearly exhausted."

Lulu ignores him, tilts her head. "You're good with him," she comments. "And he seems comfortable with you."

Chase hums. He just bounced the kid a little, hummed him a song; it's really not that big of a deal. He focuses his attention on the game, right as the opposing team hits a three-run homer to take the lead. Damn it. "How mad would Dante be that I'm watching the Sox on his television?" he smirks.

Lulu rolls her eyes at his obvious change of subject, but she quirks her brow. "I don't think you want to know," she says laughingly. She stands up, moving back toward the kitchen. "Want a glass of wine?" she calls.

"Red, if you have it," he answers.

Willow lets herself in, then, and he supposes it doesn't hurt his case that he's sitting on the sofa with her son sleeping in his arms. He shoots her a hesitant smile. "Hey."

"Hello, Detective," she greets politely, lowering herself a safe distance away from him on the sofa.

He chuckles. "I'm off the clock, and I just rocked your son to sleep," he comments. "It's just Chase."

"Okay, Chase." The corner of her lip quirks up, like she's fighting a smile. She sighs, leans further into the cushions. He likes that she doesn't seem uncomfortable around him, considering the way they left things last time they spoke. "If you don't mind me asking, how did you end up rocking my son to sleep?"

"He was inconsolable when I got here," he says as Willow gently lifts the baby from his arms. He kind of misses the weight when it's gone. He turns his body to face her, just a little bit. "Lulu needed to finish dinner, so she handed him to me. I'm not sure what I did, but I guess I did something right."

Willow hums, her smile almost reflexive as she looks down at her son. "I guess you did."

"Apparently he didn't nap today," Chase explains. "He must be exhausted."

She sighs, bouncing him a little as he stirs. "He's been doing that lately," she says.

Thankfully, Lulu emerges from the kitchen before an awkward silence can settle over them, two glasses of wine in tow. "Hey, girl," she greets, handing Chase his glass. "How was your day?"

"Oh, you know," Willow sighs, shifting Jaxon to rest against her shoulder. She leans back into the cushions, props her feet up on the coffee table. "Never-ending parent-teacher conferences where no one actually listens to a word I say."

Lulu hums, sipping her wine. "Sounds about right," she jokes. "Listen, dinner's almost ready, if you want to stay… you could let Jaxon sleep for a while, have a glass of wine."

Willow glances at Chase briefly, then back to her son, and he watches the internal debate play out on her face. She turns back to him, narrows her eyes at him playfully. "No interrogations," she demands with a smirk.

He smiles sheepishly, holds his hands up in surrender. "I promise," he chuckles.

She sighs, nods in resignation. "Okay. Sure. Thanks, Lulu."

Lulu visibly brightens. "I'll go pour another glass," she smiles, moving back toward the kitchen.

He turns back to face Willow as she looks back down at her son. He exhales slowly. Despite her cool exterior, she's clearly not pleased with how their last conversation ended, and if he's honest, neither is he. Maybe he didn't think anything of it, but from her perspective, he crossed a line, and he feels like he needs to make it right.

"I need to apologize."

She looks up in surprise, then quickly rearranges her face to hide it. She clears her throat. "Apologize for what?"

He swallows, breaks her gaze for a moment before he meets her eyes again. "For sticking my nose where it doesn't belong. You're right - you've clearly got things handled, and it's none of my business, in any capacity. I'm sorry for making assumptions."

She smiles, running her hand over Jaxon's back. "I appreciate the apology, but it's not necessary." She shrugs. "It's your job to investigate people, right?"

He smirks, tilts his head in question. "Unless you've committed some sort of crime since we last spoke, I have no reason to investigate you, do I?"

She purses her lips, her eyes sparkling in amusement. (He's only a little bit mesmerized.) "No, I suppose not," she muses.

"And yet," he emphasizes. "I did it anyway, so I'm apologizing and pleading for your forgiveness." He smiles when she laughs again. "Whatever you're dealing with… if you're not in danger, or anything, then I'm going to, as Lulu said, put away my badge."

She quirks a brow skeptically. "From what I've seen of you, I don't know if it's possible for you to not be in detective mode," she smirks. She has a point, but he won't tell her that. "But I appreciate the attempt."

And because he's a glutton for punishment… "Let me make it up to you," he insists. "Name your price."

He wanted to offer to take her to dinner, or buy her coffee - at this point, he'll take any opportunity to see her again, to find out more about her. But he figures this will be a good way to gauge if that would be something she'd be interested in. He's half hoping she'll suggest it, take the pressure off of him. He's not a wimp, okay? He's just not really a fan of rejection, and he knows he's already on thin ice.

She considers for a moment, bites her lip in contemplation. "Actually," she begins. "Speaking of your job, my class needs volunteers to come in and speak for Career Day in a few weeks. You know, if you really want to make it up to me."

And okay, it's not dinner or coffee or anything even remotely personal, but it's an invitation to see her again, and he's in no position to turn it down. "Consider it done."

"Then I'll consider you forgiven."

She smiles then, a real, genuine smile this time, and he decides that he wouldn't mind if she threw that smile his way every once in a while. If he plays his cards right, maybe he'll even be the one to put it there.

(He's been told before he sometimes jumps too quickly. Good to know some things never change.)

… … …

In the four months she's lived in Port Charles, she has rarely exposed Jaxon to the public, if she can avoid it. Logistically, she can't keep him hidden all the time, but she tries to keep him as anonymous as possible in any way she can. She still feels a cold chill of terror every time she takes Jaxon out in public, fearing that this will be the day when someone recognizes her and her secrets are no longer her own. Some might see it as dramatic and probably completely irrational, but the reality is that if anyone were to put any of the pieces of the puzzle together, it could be disastrous not just for her, but more importantly, for Jaxon.

But she can't keep Jaxon holed up in her apartment or kangarooed to her chest forever, and she feels like now is a good time to get over her fears and live her life, so that Jaxon can live his, too. Conveniently, GH offers plenty of mommy-and-me classes that promote child development, and since Jaxon's not in daycare, she wants to do whatever she can to provide him with a similar experience. Her teacher mind knows the importance of early childhood development, and there's no such thing as too early. Not to mention she figures it will be a nice way to focus her full attention on him, which is something she doesn't always get to do in the hectic every day grind.

She picks the infant class on a Saturday morning, hoping that it won't be too overwhelming, and wonders if maybe she'll meet some other moms while she's here. It would be nice, she muses, to connect with other mothers, maybe make a few friends that Jaxon could have playdates with down the road. She's hesitant to put down too many roots here, for the most part, but she knows she needs to open herself up to the community, if anything just for the sake of her own sanity.

It might sound silly, but she doesn't expect to see a man sitting across the circle from her, a baby about Jaxon's age resting in his lap. And it's not just the fact that he's a man that sets him apart from the rest of the class - he's dressed to the nines, a full suit and tie, clean shaven, well-groomed. He seems like a very important person, and while she's impressed with a man who likely took the morning off work to bring his son to this class, she's decidedly uncomfortable with the way he's staring at her. He looks harmless, but men who look harmless can be entirely too deceiving, in her experience. She's even more unnerved by the way he's staring at Jaxon, like he recognizes him, somehow. But he can't - it's not possible, and she can't let her mind go there, or she'll never leave the house with him again. So she focuses on her son for the next hour, on giving him the one-on-one attention that he needs and she craves.

She's packing up to leave at the end of the class when she feels someone's eyes on her, at closer range than before. Her back stiffens, and she feels the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She just knows it's the same man, she can feel it, and anxiety bubbles in her stomach. But she decides she won't let this stranger intimidate her, so she steels herself, takes a deep breath, and turns around.

She makes direct eye contact with him, daring him to speak to her, and she can tell she catches him off guard. He opens his mouth to say something, seems to think better of it, and then opens his mouth again. "I'm sorry," he sputters. "I don't mean to stare, but…"

He seems very uncomfortable, like he wants her to say it's okay, make him feel better, but she won't. She just levels her gaze at him, patiently waiting for him to explain himself, and he finally continues. "Your son," he finally says, and she goes very still. He clears his throat uneasily. "He's about… four months old?"

She narrows her eyes skeptically, wondering why he's so curious about her baby. "Yes," she says cautiously. "Why?"

The man clears his throat again as he adjusts the baby in his arms, and she keeps her expression stern. She doesn't know what the hell is going on here, but this creep better have a good explanation, or she'll be calling Chase so fast…

(She doesn't have time to think about why he crossed her mind so quickly. It would probably make her uneasy to unpack that, so she decides to gloss over it in her mind.)

"He's the same age that my son would have been."

His eyes shine with emotion, and she watches him swallow it down. She feels her cheeks warm in shame, then she furrows her brow in confusion, her eyes darting to the infant in his arms. "Um… would have been?" she asks delicately.

"Oh, yeah." He breathes out a chuckle. "This is my godson. My uncle lets me take him to these classes every once in a while." Well, that explains the suit. "You know, since I never got to…" he trails off, clears his throat again. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Every time I think I'm starting to move on…"

"It's okay," she blurts, stopping him from rambling. She can only imagine how painful it must be, explaining his grief to a stranger. She meets his eyes. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

He nods gratefully, seeming to compose himself enough to shoot her a small smile. "I'm Michael," he continues, just as she's about to excuse herself. He extends his hand for her to shake, and she does, hesitantly. "I don't believe we've met before. Are you new to town?"

She swallows uneasily. This is the first time she's really met someone that Lulu hasn't already given her background on, and considering the way this conversation started, she's wary of being too friendly with him. "I guess so, yeah. I'm… I'm Willow."

"It's nice to meet you, Willow." She notices it, then, the sweet grin, the unassuming dimple in his cheek that she's sure charms every woman with eyes in this town. Honestly, it's like every guy in Port Charles stepped straight out of GQ, or something. "Hopefully I'll be seeing more of you around."

"I guess we'll see." She smiles thinly and finally pushes past him to leave. She feels his eyes on her as she walks away, and she wonders how she's attracted more male attention with a baby in her arms than she has in her entire adult life.

She replays the conversation in her head for the rest of the day, trying to decode his reactions and assure herself that she doesn't need to be concerned. Her unease doesn't fully subside until later, when she calls Lulu to debrief the situation, and Lulu laughs as she explains that Michael is not only her cousin, but her brother-in-law. She feels silly for being so skeptical, and she decides not to mention that she was this close to asking for Chase's number to run a background check on the guy.

She decides not to dwell on it. She exposed her son to the outside world, and they both made it home in once piece. Even though she let her nerves get carried away, she still considers it a win, and a sign that maybe the world isn't as dangerous as she's conditioned herself to believe. Maybe she can settle in a little more, put down a few loose roots.

She's been searching for a home all her life. It's about time she found a place she can have it.

… … …

He normally doesn't stop for coffee on his way to work. He really only needs one cup to get going in the morning, and he prefers to drink it at home, while he gets ready for the day. His mornings are so routine at this point that he rarely even thinks about deviating from it. But with his Career Day presentation today, he's a little more nervous than usual, and he thinks an extra cup of coffee might help him be on his A-game.

He's never been one for public speaking. He hated giving speeches in high school, and if he ever got promoted to police commissioner, all those press conferences would probably give him an ulcer. But it's not just that he's nervous to speak in front of a group; there's one person in particular he wants to impress.

And it just so happens that she's parked at a table outside Kelly's when he arrives.

"Playing hooky?" he asks, smirking when she looks up from her work to meet his eyes. "You know I could arrest you for that."

She leans back in her chair, crosses her arms, shoots him a smirk in return. "You look sharp, Detective," she comments. "If you'd been in uniform like this when we first met, maybe I wouldn't have caused such trouble."

Chase hums. Maybe it's true what they say, that women love a man in uniform. "Or maybe you would've caused more trouble."

She narrows her eyes at him. "Down, boy," she warns laughingly. She leans forward, rests her elbows on the table, and he boldly takes the seat across from her. "Looks like you're ready for your presentation today."

He nods, hopefully portraying a sense of confidence that he's not sure he really feels. "I think it'll be a good one. I've got some surprises up my sleeve." She quirks her brow in question, and he chuckles. "For the kids."

"Right." She looks up at him through her eyelashes, and his breath catches in his throat. "For the kids."

Her eyes bore into his, and he's almost unnerved by the way she's looking at him. If he didn't know any better, he'd say she's flirting with him. He's not naïve enough to think he's won her over with an apology and a glimpse at his full uniform, but he'd be lying if he said he doesn't think she's coming around.

"I think I'll blow the competition out of the water," he smirks, trying to reign in his thoughts, keep himself on track. He can't afford to be distracted today. (Too late.)

She raises her eyebrows. "I didn't realize it was a competition," she comments laughingly. "Are you sure you've got what it takes? You don't even know who else is coming."

He smirks. "Well, I know you invited Lulu, and Michael, and my brother. And Commissioner Ashford told me Stella's presenting. Is there anyone else I should know about?"

The look of shock on her face is so entertaining that he has to bite back a laugh. "Okay, it's kind of creepy how everyone in Port Charles either knows one another or is related somehow," she insists. "Are there any two people in this town who aren't connected in, like, five different ways?"

It's an astute observation, one that he learned himself not too long after moving here. For someone who claims she doesn't want to put down roots here, she's clearly embedding herself firmly into the soil here in Port Charles. He hums. "Probably not," he agrees. "Apparently, you've made a few connections yourself, so you fit right in around here."

She purses her lips. "You may have a point," she concedes. "And to answer your question, no, there's no one else you should know about. Does that make you more or less confident?"

He laughs. "That depends. Am I going first, to set the bar, or do I have to follow someone else's act?"

She smirks. "You'll just have to wait and see, Detective." She gathers her papers, then, and tucks them into her bag as she stands to leave. "See you at school."

He can't help but stare as she walks away, can't help but contemplate what it is about her that captivates him. She doesn't take any of his bullshit. She has a witty comeback for all of his lame jokes, and he feels like every attempt to seem charming just makes her roll her eyes at him. He kind of liked it better when she was afraid he was going to dig up all her secrets; at least then he knew he was affecting her somehow. At the very least, she's entertained by him, and he thinks he can work with that.

His determined preparation for Career Day pays off, and she's impressed, he can tell. He charms all the kids, answers all their questions and keeps them entertained and involved throughout his presentation. Not that the other presenters didn't do just as well, but he will say that he thinks the addition of Thor to the lineup really sealed the deal.

Even if he doesn't get her number, or a date - even if all he gets is that little grin she gave him when she thanked him for his time - he'll consider this day a win, and a step in the right direction.

… … …

She takes the opportunity to observe him as he gives his Career Day presentation. It's not just the childlike excitement in his eyes as he describes the duties of his position, or the calm way he explains concepts that might be difficult for the kids to understand. It's the way he interacts with them. She can tell he loves kids, and he's so good with them; he stoops to their level, makes them feel special, included.

And really, that uniform… damn.

She's never really taken the time to appreciate the way he looks, hasn't let herself go there quiet yet, and it's such a cliché that she hates to even think it, but that uniform… he really does wear it well. It's not fair, and she's almost certain he's doing it on purpose. She tries not to notice the way he's constantly meeting her eyes, as if his presentation is as much for her as it is for the kids. She knows he's interested in her - he hasn't exactly been subtle, though she's sure that's his intent - and while it still makes her uneasy, the more she gets to know him, the more she thinks she wouldn't be opposed to spending a little time with him on a more personal level.

Provided he wears the uniform, of course.

(She's kidding. Kind of.)

She gives the kids a break after his presentation, to use the bathroom or get some water or stretch their legs, and she's not at all surprised when Lulu takes the opportunity to sidle up next to her at the front of the classroom. "Chase looks good today," she comments innocently, studying Willow out of the corner of her eye.

Willow rolls her eyes. "You say that as if I haven't noticed," she agrees, keeping her voice low to avoid prying ears. (Read: Charlotte.)

Lulu is almost giddy at her response, sips her water to hide her smile. "I think that's the first time I've mentioned Chase that you haven't immediately gotten defensive," she observes.

Willow sighs. "Yeah, well, the more I get to know him… the more I want to know about him," she confesses. "And he's clearly interested in me, so why shouldn't I see where it goes?"

Lulu squints at her. "The fact that you're asking instead of telling me says that you're not entirely sure," she says. "But I can assure you that if you're going to jump back into the dating world, Chase is one of the best guys I know. And I know a lot of really great guys." She wraps her hand loosely around Willow's wrist, squeezes reassuringly. "I say if he asks you out, go for it, girlfriend."

Willow nods and smiles, hoping it doesn't portray the low-grade anxiety now building in her stomach. She just has to remind herself that going on a date with him doesn't mean she has to tell him everything. Though it makes her uneasy to think that, depending on where things go, she may one day have to open up to him, to give him details about her past that she'd rather not re-live… she's starting to think she'll regret it if she doesn't at least give him a shot.

It's a pretty big leap of faith, considering her history with men. It's a good thing she has a feeling it'll work out pretty well in the end.

… … …

"If I take your number for my brother, could I… use it? To ask you out sometime?"

"Why can't you just ask now?"

"Will you go out with me?"

"I'm working!"

"When you're not."

"That's rare."

"Weekends too?"

"Yep. … Maybe I could be persuaded if you bring Thor."

"Oh, that can be arranged. When?"

"I didn't say yes yet."

"But you haven't said no, so."

"I'm a little rusty."

"Me too. We can see who's the worst first date."

"I'd knock you out round one."

"You already have."

… … …

He's convinced that the universe is conspiring against him, to make sure he never gets to actually take Willow on a date. In the two weeks since Career Day, since he finally got her number, it's been one thing after another - Curtis' bachelor party, and then the Ashford wedding, and then, of course, shit hit the fan. Kiki's murder, combined with the most confusing investigation he's ever been part of, have had him working 18-hour days and basically sleeping at his desk. He hardly gets a free moment to go home and shower, let alone make a phone call.

He wants to do this right. He doesn't want their time together to be short-changed by his job, and he wants to make sure what when they do go out, he can focus his full attention on her. She deserves that much. Call him crazy, but he doesn't think take-out, beer and a Sox game while he answers texts and phone calls every five minutes makes a very good first date.

It's ten a.m. on a Saturday morning, and he's coming to the end of a shift that began at four p.m. yesterday, and he's so damn tired that he's not even sure he should be driving right now. But Commissioner Ashford promised him the rest of the weekend off, with no interruptions, if he would go meet with the medical examiner, so of course he took her up on it. He's beyond ready to get this over with and go home, take a shower, take a nap, eat food that's not takeout. Not necessarily in that order.

By the time the meeting is over, he's practically dead on his feet. He's so distracted by the thought of falling into his bed that he almost collides with Willow as he comes around a corner.

Suddenly, he's wide awake.

"Hey," greets lamely. He blinks, willing the fog to leave his brain so that maybe he can formulate actual sentences. Smooth moves, Detective.

"Hello, Detective," she returns with a coy smile. "That is your first name, right? Detective?"

He lets the corner of his mouth quirk. He tries to think of a witty response, maybe make her laugh somehow, but he's so eager to apologize that that's what comes out instead. "I'm sorry. I've been meaning to call you."

She shakes her head in mock disappointment. "If I had a nickel for every time I heard that…"

He fights the urge to roll his eyes, not at her, but at himself. God, she turns him into a complete amateur. He's grateful that she seems amused, because most women would be offended, probably even angry that he hasn't called her yet, especially with a lame excuse like the one he just gave. But he's quickly realizing that Willow is not like most women, and though it unnerves him a little bit, he's beginning to think it might work in his favor.

It's then that he notices she's holding Jaxon, who makes his presence known with a whine. He seems none too happy that he's been interrupted, likely on his way for a nap or a meal. He watches with interest as Willow quickly soothes him as he whimpers, swaying gently as she runs her hand over his head. "What brings you two to GH? Is Jaxon okay?"

Willow furrows her brow in confusion, and he has a strange urge to run his fingertip over the worry lines on her forehead. Thankfully, it dissipates when her expression clears and she smiles. "Oh. Yes, everything's fine. We've been doing these mommy-and-me classes on Saturday mornings." She rolls her eyes at herself, and her smile thins ever so slightly, her cheeks tinged pink. "No wonder you haven't called me yet," she jokes weakly. "I'm sure you're enthralled by our exciting lives, Detective."

So she thinks she's boring to him, or something. He's amused, really, because it couldn't be further from the truth. He can't help but smile. "You have no idea," he says truthfully.

"What about you?" she asks, adjusting Jaxon on her hip. She quirks her brow. "Are you here on official business, or is something wrong with you?"

"Official business," he chuckles. "Which is why I haven't been able to call you yet." He could leave it at that, tell her he'll call when he gets a chance, but since he's technically free tomorrow night, he figures she should take a shot. "But, you know, the Commissioner always tells us we should take breaks every now and then. Supposed to keep us sharp."

She quirks her brow with a smirk. "And what does this have to do with me?"

He rubs his fingertips together nervously by his side. The moment of truth. "Well, I was wondering if you're free tomorrow night. I'd like to take you to dinner."

Simple, uncomplicated. No fake attempts at charm. If she turns him down now, he won't have anything else to blame.

A smile creeps across her face, and his heart flips over in his chest. "My own police escort to dinner?"

"I was thinking off the clock," he smirks. "But I can arrange for that, if you'd like."

"Relax, Detective," she laughs, and his breath catches at the sound. She meets his eyes, exhales. "It's a school night."

"I promise I'll have you home by curfew," he jokes nervously.

She rolls her eyes, but she's still smiling, so he's feeling optimistic. She purses her lips, considering, and it feels like a lifetime before she finally speaks again. "I'll have to check with Lulu," she says. "Make sure she's okay with watching Jaxon."

"Of course," he nods, and he begins to wonder if she's dragging this out just to watch him squirm. It's working.

"But," she sighs. "I'm thinking that since she tried to set us up in the first place, she'll jump at the chance, so… how about I meet you at the park tomorrow evening?"

He bites his lip to prevent his grin from splitting his face in half. "It's a date."

He doesn't even remember the drive home, honestly. His mind is spinning, whirling with ideas of places he could take her, topics of conversation, what he'll wear. He doesn't know if he's ever been this nervous for a date before, but it's an excited kind of nervous, because he has a really, really good feeling about where this is going to lead.

It's a date. One he's been waiting for. And one that he's determined to make worth the wait.

… … …