Show: General Hospital
Title: Change is Good
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
A/N: Thanks for the comments. I've decided to post this new chapter since I posted a new chapter of LVdlC2. So, enjoy.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Liz angrily unlocked the door and slammed it with a huff. Zander, sitting at the small breakfast nook quickly glanced at the clock before turning to her in confusion. He opened his mouth to ask her what she was doing home so early, but the anger on her face stalled him.
"The nerve of that man!" Elizabeth muttered, slinging off her jacket and yanking her scarf from around her neck. She stalked past Zander into the small kitchen, yanked open the refrigerator and took out a bottle of orange juice. She chugged it, blatantly ignoring Zander's bewildered gaze. Elizabeth recapped the juice and returned it to the fridge and wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve, barely resisting the urge to scream.
Against his better judgment, Zander asked, "Who are you talking about?"
Liz's eyes narrowed and she stalked from the kitchen to her bedroom but not before she tossed over her shoulder. "Jason Morgan, that's who!"
*~*~*~*~*~*
Zander tentatively knocked on the closed door of Elizabeth's bedroom. In his left hand, he carried a carton of Ben and Jerry's Phish Food ice cream and a spoon.
"Come in," came Elizabeth's slightly watery voice.
He pushed into the room to see Liz lying on her side facing away from him. She sat up and turned to him, her face smudged by the salty tracks of her dried tears. "Damn hormones," she muttered with a watery smile. "One moment I'm angry as hell, the next I'm blubbering like an idiot for no reason."
Zander smiled indulgently, sat down on the bed and immediately handed her the carton. He certainly had experiences with those particular mood swings since they'd moved in together two months ago. But the reason she had given for her particular episode intrigued him. **Morgan was back in town?** "What happened?" he asked. It wasn't good obviously.
Elizabeth swallowed a huge hunk of ice cream, not even pausing to savor the chocolaty goodness of the mini fish. "I don't want to talk about it. Just the thought of it makes me mad!"
Subconsciously, Zander shied away from her. In the past few months, when Liz got angry, she tended to get a bit violent as well. He didn't think he wanted her to throw her spoon at him. "Ok," he conceded, taking one of her feet in hand. Massaging her feet at the end of the day tended to calm her down. It worked especially well when paired with ice cream. He was pulling out all the stops to get her to open up.
"He's such a hypocritical bastard," Liz rambled, closing her eyes and sinking into her pillows, enjoying the release of the tension in her swollen feet.
"Who is?" he asked, although he knew exactly whom she was talking about.
She cocked open an eye as if to ask him, 'Have you been listening to me?'
"Morgan?" he asked, applying more pressure to the arch of her foot to distract her apathy from him and back onto Jason.
"PC's own little mobster –"
"Alleged." There was that look again. "Sorry," he apologized.
"*Alleged* my rapidly expanding backside; we all know he doesn't just dabble in the coffee business. Anyway, do you know what he had the nerve to ask, Zander?"
"No, what?"
Liz swallowed another huge gunk of the ice cream. "How you're treating me?"
"What?" he asked incredulously.
"I know! Just where does he get off thinking that he can just waltz back into town and act as though the past year has *not* happened? He gave up the privilege of looking into my affairs a lifetime ago."
As much as he would like to voice his own pissed-off opinion, he continued to let her rant, experience teaching him that it didn't pay to interrupt while she was in bitchy-pregnant-woman mode.
"He doesn't trust you, you know," she continued, pointing her spoon at him.
"Really?" It didn't come as much of a surprise.
"He still sees you as that stupid kid you were four months ago. I told him that you had changed. He didn't believe me."
Zander didn't even pretend to be insulted. In some strange miscued fashion, he could see Jason's point of view. His decisions before learning he was going to be a father were not exactly wise. After Emily's rejection, he had tried everything to get a one-way ticket on the Highway Express to Suicideville. His alliance with Faith had aided him, but his unborn child had thrown a monkey wrench in those plans. Of course, he kept his opinion to himself and lifted her other foot into his hands.
"Anyway, I told him off. Basically told him he was living in the past."
Zander paused and thought about his run-in with Emily that afternoon: Weren't they all?
*~*~*~*~*~*
Wyndemere, Spoon Island
It wasn't even dinnertime and already he looked tired. Emily watched her fiancé from her position at the door to his study, his head diligently bent over the latest financial documents pertaining to what was left of the Cassidine fortune. His quest to find one loophole to save his family from the disgrace of bankruptcy had all but taken over their lives. The one thing that kept them both sane was the thought of their wedding, in just over a month.
But even that joyous event had been dampened by one financial crisis after another. The Q's couldn't track down AJ, who had been most brilliantly elusive of the authorities, a prowess Edward secretly wished he had possessed in the boardroom, Sam McCall seemed to have disappeared off the face of the Earth with more than her share of the treasure, and Nikolas, despite the threat of bankruptcy hanging over his head and Alexis's numerous pleas to scale down his lifestyle, continued to want to shower her with material gifts. In the past few weeks it had become more and more evident that he was not listening to her pleas that it didn't matter if he was broke as long as they loved one another.
She thought of those carefree days not so long ago, when money had been no objective and the only care in the world they had was whether they should spend the night in PC or on Spoon Island. But now, as much as she'd hate to admit it everything was about money and appearances and jealousy.
Like this afternoon. He had played it off well, but Emily knew even the thought of her speaking (not fighting) with Zander made Nikolas jealous. Why for obvious reasons. But was he so dense that he forgot the simple fact that she had divorced her husband for him? She peeked through the door and watched as Nik sighed heavily. Apparently he had a little.
There was no need for those feelings…. Really. Emily loved Nikolas, with every fibre of her being. So why for the love of God, at this moment, couldn't she seem to remember that Zander had been a first-class jerk to her ever since their divorce… with the exception of this afternoon when he'd just been *polite*?
God, she hated that word!
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why did the fact that Zander seemed resigned to their divorce tick her off so much?
Why did he have to show her the man that she had always known he could be now of all times?
Kind.
Caring.
Gentle.
Polite….
Ick!
Emily shook the thoughts from her head. It wasn't fair to anyone for her to even entertain such thoughts.
Part of her whispered the thought she knew lurked deep down – she didn't care.
No, scratch that; she cared far more than she should.
She sighed. Nik looked up and smiled at her. She plastered a smile on her face and went over to her fiancé and captured his lips with hers.
**Hypocrite** the little voice whispered.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Apparently, ranting took a lot out of a person, because Elizabeth eventually drifted off to sleep. Zander tucked her deeper into bed and carried the ice cream back to the freezer, grabbed his coat and scarf and headed towards the docks and his job.
Jake's wasn't the classiest place in PC. In fact it was filled with drunks, promiscuous women and tattooed bikers always looking for a fight – and that was on a *good* night. But the pay was decent and it was an honest job. Besides beggars couldn't be choosers so when Coleman had offered him the job, he had jumped at the chance. He had to pay the rent after all.
By the time he made it, outside was bitterly cold and he stepped into the smoky but warm bar with relief. Zander stamped the slush from his boots and shrugged off his coat, his eyes surveying his surroundings out of habit. There were a few men shooting some pool to his right; most of the seats at the bar were occupied; some dockworkers were taking in an after-work beer – nothing looked out of the ordinary. Coleman spotted him from the bar; Zander nodded at his boss, went behind the bar and got to work.
He had been behind the counter for an hour and half when the door opened sending the swirling North Wind into the bar. He looked up prepared to tell whomever it was to come in and shut the damned door when he found himself staring into the cold glacial blue eyes of his former brother-in-law.
The two surveyed each other with an air of antagonism. Zander refused to be bullied; Jason refused to look away. Finally Coleman, who had been watching with an air of amusement, stepped up to Zander and asked, "You gonna call, Morgan, or are you just gonna stand there and stare at Smith's pretty face all night?"
Jason scowled but muttered, "Beer."
"What, no 'please'?" asked Coleman, even as he popped the cap on the bottle of Bud. At Jason's narrowed eyes, he chuckled, "Nice to know Anger Boy still has his unique sense of humour."
Jason simply ignored him as he snatched up the bottle and headed toward the pool tables.
"You're welcome," Coleman shot sarcastically towards his back. "Prick," he muttered beneath his breath.
Zander wholeheartedly agreed with his boss as he watched Jason settle into a game of pool. Everyone in the bar knew who he was – no one wanted to piss the big bad Enforcer off, so everyone played fair, calling their shots like he'd requested when he joined the game. Zander scoffed in mild disbelief. What was it about this man that made everyone do his bidding?
It was like the answer to the Tootsie Pop question – the world may never know.
Even as he played the game, Jason watched Zander from the corner of his eye. The kid was impulsive, undisciplined and brash – so what exactly was it about him that had constantly garnered the support of both his sister and Elizabeth even after he'd messed up for seemingly the millionth time? He tried to see Zander in the role of a father – he really *did* hope that for Elizabeth's sake and the baby's that he was a good one.
**Elizabeth**
His mind went back to their conversation on the docks. He had really put his foot in his mouth. But Jason rarely lied, and he *never* lied about his thoughts on enemies. And, as far as he was concerned, Zander Smith was still an enemy – it didn't matter that he didn't work for Faith Roscoe anymore. The fact of the matter was that he had conspired to plot the destruction of Sonny not once, but twice. Liz and Emily evidently could get past that, but he couldn't.
He drained his beer bottle and tried to catch Coleman's eye for another, but he was on the telephone. Resigned to his fate, he headed to the bar.
Zander looked up to find Jason heading towards him. His bottle was empty, so he surmised that he probably wanted another. He reached into the cooler, flipped the cap and set it on the counter, hoping Jason would just pick it up and head back to his game.
"Smith."
Alas no such luck. "Morgan," he took the empty bottle and set it in the cases behind the bar. When he straightened, Jason was still standing there.
Zander lifted an eyebrow.
"Congratulations," he said softly.
Zander's eyes widened in surprise before he mumbled in reply, "Thanks."
"Don't mess this up."
Zander frowned and his eyes narrowed. "I don't intend to."
"See that you don't." With those words, Jason picked up his bottle and headed back to his game.
Zander knew he should just let that comment drop but he couldn't help but ask the question, his bruised ego causing him to speak. Elizabeth was right. Jason still thought of him as that stupid punk. "What the hell is that supposed to mean, Morgan?"
Jason paused mid-stride and turned to see Zander staring at him, jaw clenched in barely disguised anger. "Meaning, you've obviously got a good thing going with Elizabeth. Don't go do something stupid."
"You mean like you did with her?"
Jason's eyes narrowed; his own jaw clenched so tightly Zander could see a muscle ticking rapidly, but he continued anyway. "I'll leave the hurting to you and Ric. I'm the one who always cleans up after the mess *you* make. So you don't have to concern yourself with *protecting* Elizabeth anymore – I'll make damned sure I don't ever make the same mistake you did."
Zander tossed his bar towel on the counter and stalked from behind the bar leaving Jason standing in relative disbelief. He'd been talked down to by the little punk. But the worst thing was that he knew he had deserved it.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Wyndemere, Spoon Island
Nikolas reluctantly pulled away. "What was that for?" he asked with a devilish smile.
Emily returned his grin and settled herself in her fiancé's lap. "You looked like you needed one." She pecked him on the lips again. "You've been working hard. Too hard…" she trailed off pointedly.
"Emily…. Please don't start," he began.
"What?" she asked, trailing her fingertips along his strong jaw. "All I said was that you were working too hard."
"And we all know where the beginning of this conversation leads to," he replied, wiping the fatigue from his eyes. "And I'm not in the mood to fight about this right now."
Emily frowned and stood up, hands on her hips. "And I'm *never* in the mood to fight about this, Nikolas. But we'll always lock horns over this until I drill it into that thick skull of yours that it doesn't matter to me whether you're broke or loaded."
"Maybe it doesn't matter to you, Emily, but it matters to me. This family won't survive until I find a way to claw us out of this hole that my grandmother has dug for us," Nikolas tried to explain, his temper rising as well.
"*We* won't survive if that's the only thing you're concerned about."
"Emily, that's not fair."
"Whatever, Nikolas. Enough about being fair. *Life* isn't fair, so why the hell should I be? I want to be selfish about this because that's the only way I want to feel when it comes to me and you," Emily shot back, her brown eyes flashing. "Come find me when you've realized that money is *not* the solution to all our problems!" With that, she scoffed and left the room.
Nikolas stared at the spot where she had just been standing with an air of disbelief, flinching when he heard the front door slam in fury.
TBC...
A/N: OK OK. I lied... the story's not complete, but the majority is already written, so you won't have to wait long for updates.
Title: Change is Good
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
A/N: Thanks for the comments. I've decided to post this new chapter since I posted a new chapter of LVdlC2. So, enjoy.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Liz angrily unlocked the door and slammed it with a huff. Zander, sitting at the small breakfast nook quickly glanced at the clock before turning to her in confusion. He opened his mouth to ask her what she was doing home so early, but the anger on her face stalled him.
"The nerve of that man!" Elizabeth muttered, slinging off her jacket and yanking her scarf from around her neck. She stalked past Zander into the small kitchen, yanked open the refrigerator and took out a bottle of orange juice. She chugged it, blatantly ignoring Zander's bewildered gaze. Elizabeth recapped the juice and returned it to the fridge and wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve, barely resisting the urge to scream.
Against his better judgment, Zander asked, "Who are you talking about?"
Liz's eyes narrowed and she stalked from the kitchen to her bedroom but not before she tossed over her shoulder. "Jason Morgan, that's who!"
*~*~*~*~*~*
Zander tentatively knocked on the closed door of Elizabeth's bedroom. In his left hand, he carried a carton of Ben and Jerry's Phish Food ice cream and a spoon.
"Come in," came Elizabeth's slightly watery voice.
He pushed into the room to see Liz lying on her side facing away from him. She sat up and turned to him, her face smudged by the salty tracks of her dried tears. "Damn hormones," she muttered with a watery smile. "One moment I'm angry as hell, the next I'm blubbering like an idiot for no reason."
Zander smiled indulgently, sat down on the bed and immediately handed her the carton. He certainly had experiences with those particular mood swings since they'd moved in together two months ago. But the reason she had given for her particular episode intrigued him. **Morgan was back in town?** "What happened?" he asked. It wasn't good obviously.
Elizabeth swallowed a huge hunk of ice cream, not even pausing to savor the chocolaty goodness of the mini fish. "I don't want to talk about it. Just the thought of it makes me mad!"
Subconsciously, Zander shied away from her. In the past few months, when Liz got angry, she tended to get a bit violent as well. He didn't think he wanted her to throw her spoon at him. "Ok," he conceded, taking one of her feet in hand. Massaging her feet at the end of the day tended to calm her down. It worked especially well when paired with ice cream. He was pulling out all the stops to get her to open up.
"He's such a hypocritical bastard," Liz rambled, closing her eyes and sinking into her pillows, enjoying the release of the tension in her swollen feet.
"Who is?" he asked, although he knew exactly whom she was talking about.
She cocked open an eye as if to ask him, 'Have you been listening to me?'
"Morgan?" he asked, applying more pressure to the arch of her foot to distract her apathy from him and back onto Jason.
"PC's own little mobster –"
"Alleged." There was that look again. "Sorry," he apologized.
"*Alleged* my rapidly expanding backside; we all know he doesn't just dabble in the coffee business. Anyway, do you know what he had the nerve to ask, Zander?"
"No, what?"
Liz swallowed another huge gunk of the ice cream. "How you're treating me?"
"What?" he asked incredulously.
"I know! Just where does he get off thinking that he can just waltz back into town and act as though the past year has *not* happened? He gave up the privilege of looking into my affairs a lifetime ago."
As much as he would like to voice his own pissed-off opinion, he continued to let her rant, experience teaching him that it didn't pay to interrupt while she was in bitchy-pregnant-woman mode.
"He doesn't trust you, you know," she continued, pointing her spoon at him.
"Really?" It didn't come as much of a surprise.
"He still sees you as that stupid kid you were four months ago. I told him that you had changed. He didn't believe me."
Zander didn't even pretend to be insulted. In some strange miscued fashion, he could see Jason's point of view. His decisions before learning he was going to be a father were not exactly wise. After Emily's rejection, he had tried everything to get a one-way ticket on the Highway Express to Suicideville. His alliance with Faith had aided him, but his unborn child had thrown a monkey wrench in those plans. Of course, he kept his opinion to himself and lifted her other foot into his hands.
"Anyway, I told him off. Basically told him he was living in the past."
Zander paused and thought about his run-in with Emily that afternoon: Weren't they all?
*~*~*~*~*~*
Wyndemere, Spoon Island
It wasn't even dinnertime and already he looked tired. Emily watched her fiancé from her position at the door to his study, his head diligently bent over the latest financial documents pertaining to what was left of the Cassidine fortune. His quest to find one loophole to save his family from the disgrace of bankruptcy had all but taken over their lives. The one thing that kept them both sane was the thought of their wedding, in just over a month.
But even that joyous event had been dampened by one financial crisis after another. The Q's couldn't track down AJ, who had been most brilliantly elusive of the authorities, a prowess Edward secretly wished he had possessed in the boardroom, Sam McCall seemed to have disappeared off the face of the Earth with more than her share of the treasure, and Nikolas, despite the threat of bankruptcy hanging over his head and Alexis's numerous pleas to scale down his lifestyle, continued to want to shower her with material gifts. In the past few weeks it had become more and more evident that he was not listening to her pleas that it didn't matter if he was broke as long as they loved one another.
She thought of those carefree days not so long ago, when money had been no objective and the only care in the world they had was whether they should spend the night in PC or on Spoon Island. But now, as much as she'd hate to admit it everything was about money and appearances and jealousy.
Like this afternoon. He had played it off well, but Emily knew even the thought of her speaking (not fighting) with Zander made Nikolas jealous. Why for obvious reasons. But was he so dense that he forgot the simple fact that she had divorced her husband for him? She peeked through the door and watched as Nik sighed heavily. Apparently he had a little.
There was no need for those feelings…. Really. Emily loved Nikolas, with every fibre of her being. So why for the love of God, at this moment, couldn't she seem to remember that Zander had been a first-class jerk to her ever since their divorce… with the exception of this afternoon when he'd just been *polite*?
God, she hated that word!
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why did the fact that Zander seemed resigned to their divorce tick her off so much?
Why did he have to show her the man that she had always known he could be now of all times?
Kind.
Caring.
Gentle.
Polite….
Ick!
Emily shook the thoughts from her head. It wasn't fair to anyone for her to even entertain such thoughts.
Part of her whispered the thought she knew lurked deep down – she didn't care.
No, scratch that; she cared far more than she should.
She sighed. Nik looked up and smiled at her. She plastered a smile on her face and went over to her fiancé and captured his lips with hers.
**Hypocrite** the little voice whispered.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Apparently, ranting took a lot out of a person, because Elizabeth eventually drifted off to sleep. Zander tucked her deeper into bed and carried the ice cream back to the freezer, grabbed his coat and scarf and headed towards the docks and his job.
Jake's wasn't the classiest place in PC. In fact it was filled with drunks, promiscuous women and tattooed bikers always looking for a fight – and that was on a *good* night. But the pay was decent and it was an honest job. Besides beggars couldn't be choosers so when Coleman had offered him the job, he had jumped at the chance. He had to pay the rent after all.
By the time he made it, outside was bitterly cold and he stepped into the smoky but warm bar with relief. Zander stamped the slush from his boots and shrugged off his coat, his eyes surveying his surroundings out of habit. There were a few men shooting some pool to his right; most of the seats at the bar were occupied; some dockworkers were taking in an after-work beer – nothing looked out of the ordinary. Coleman spotted him from the bar; Zander nodded at his boss, went behind the bar and got to work.
He had been behind the counter for an hour and half when the door opened sending the swirling North Wind into the bar. He looked up prepared to tell whomever it was to come in and shut the damned door when he found himself staring into the cold glacial blue eyes of his former brother-in-law.
The two surveyed each other with an air of antagonism. Zander refused to be bullied; Jason refused to look away. Finally Coleman, who had been watching with an air of amusement, stepped up to Zander and asked, "You gonna call, Morgan, or are you just gonna stand there and stare at Smith's pretty face all night?"
Jason scowled but muttered, "Beer."
"What, no 'please'?" asked Coleman, even as he popped the cap on the bottle of Bud. At Jason's narrowed eyes, he chuckled, "Nice to know Anger Boy still has his unique sense of humour."
Jason simply ignored him as he snatched up the bottle and headed toward the pool tables.
"You're welcome," Coleman shot sarcastically towards his back. "Prick," he muttered beneath his breath.
Zander wholeheartedly agreed with his boss as he watched Jason settle into a game of pool. Everyone in the bar knew who he was – no one wanted to piss the big bad Enforcer off, so everyone played fair, calling their shots like he'd requested when he joined the game. Zander scoffed in mild disbelief. What was it about this man that made everyone do his bidding?
It was like the answer to the Tootsie Pop question – the world may never know.
Even as he played the game, Jason watched Zander from the corner of his eye. The kid was impulsive, undisciplined and brash – so what exactly was it about him that had constantly garnered the support of both his sister and Elizabeth even after he'd messed up for seemingly the millionth time? He tried to see Zander in the role of a father – he really *did* hope that for Elizabeth's sake and the baby's that he was a good one.
**Elizabeth**
His mind went back to their conversation on the docks. He had really put his foot in his mouth. But Jason rarely lied, and he *never* lied about his thoughts on enemies. And, as far as he was concerned, Zander Smith was still an enemy – it didn't matter that he didn't work for Faith Roscoe anymore. The fact of the matter was that he had conspired to plot the destruction of Sonny not once, but twice. Liz and Emily evidently could get past that, but he couldn't.
He drained his beer bottle and tried to catch Coleman's eye for another, but he was on the telephone. Resigned to his fate, he headed to the bar.
Zander looked up to find Jason heading towards him. His bottle was empty, so he surmised that he probably wanted another. He reached into the cooler, flipped the cap and set it on the counter, hoping Jason would just pick it up and head back to his game.
"Smith."
Alas no such luck. "Morgan," he took the empty bottle and set it in the cases behind the bar. When he straightened, Jason was still standing there.
Zander lifted an eyebrow.
"Congratulations," he said softly.
Zander's eyes widened in surprise before he mumbled in reply, "Thanks."
"Don't mess this up."
Zander frowned and his eyes narrowed. "I don't intend to."
"See that you don't." With those words, Jason picked up his bottle and headed back to his game.
Zander knew he should just let that comment drop but he couldn't help but ask the question, his bruised ego causing him to speak. Elizabeth was right. Jason still thought of him as that stupid punk. "What the hell is that supposed to mean, Morgan?"
Jason paused mid-stride and turned to see Zander staring at him, jaw clenched in barely disguised anger. "Meaning, you've obviously got a good thing going with Elizabeth. Don't go do something stupid."
"You mean like you did with her?"
Jason's eyes narrowed; his own jaw clenched so tightly Zander could see a muscle ticking rapidly, but he continued anyway. "I'll leave the hurting to you and Ric. I'm the one who always cleans up after the mess *you* make. So you don't have to concern yourself with *protecting* Elizabeth anymore – I'll make damned sure I don't ever make the same mistake you did."
Zander tossed his bar towel on the counter and stalked from behind the bar leaving Jason standing in relative disbelief. He'd been talked down to by the little punk. But the worst thing was that he knew he had deserved it.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Wyndemere, Spoon Island
Nikolas reluctantly pulled away. "What was that for?" he asked with a devilish smile.
Emily returned his grin and settled herself in her fiancé's lap. "You looked like you needed one." She pecked him on the lips again. "You've been working hard. Too hard…" she trailed off pointedly.
"Emily…. Please don't start," he began.
"What?" she asked, trailing her fingertips along his strong jaw. "All I said was that you were working too hard."
"And we all know where the beginning of this conversation leads to," he replied, wiping the fatigue from his eyes. "And I'm not in the mood to fight about this right now."
Emily frowned and stood up, hands on her hips. "And I'm *never* in the mood to fight about this, Nikolas. But we'll always lock horns over this until I drill it into that thick skull of yours that it doesn't matter to me whether you're broke or loaded."
"Maybe it doesn't matter to you, Emily, but it matters to me. This family won't survive until I find a way to claw us out of this hole that my grandmother has dug for us," Nikolas tried to explain, his temper rising as well.
"*We* won't survive if that's the only thing you're concerned about."
"Emily, that's not fair."
"Whatever, Nikolas. Enough about being fair. *Life* isn't fair, so why the hell should I be? I want to be selfish about this because that's the only way I want to feel when it comes to me and you," Emily shot back, her brown eyes flashing. "Come find me when you've realized that money is *not* the solution to all our problems!" With that, she scoffed and left the room.
Nikolas stared at the spot where she had just been standing with an air of disbelief, flinching when he heard the front door slam in fury.
TBC...
A/N: OK OK. I lied... the story's not complete, but the majority is already written, so you won't have to wait long for updates.