Authors Note: Just a quick note on Sonny and Ric: I know Sonny's devotion to the whole "Ric is innocent" song might seem a little odd, especially since I neglected to tell you guys in chapter 1 that Sonny and everybody's favorite psycho freak (oh wait, I'm sorry… misunderstood psycho freak) had been slowly, slowly making moves to mend some fences. Think itty-bitty olive branches with secret malicious intent… okay? Good… now go read, and dont' forget to R&R. :)

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Somewhere In Between

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Chapter Three: At First Sight

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Lorenzo hadn't moved since Miguel left. He sat, leaning into the plush leather of the high-backed desk chair, his eyed fixated on the photo he held between his fingers.

He understood perfectly the logic of using Emily Quartermaine against Corinthos, why it should work, and why if Miguel was correct, it would work. But still, even as he studied her bright and smiling eyes, Lorenzo couldn't banish the last of his doubts.

Now, Miguel on the other hand, was confident, unwaveringly so. But Lorenzo imagined some of that confidence had to have stemmed from being able to see their future acquisition up close, to study her interaction with Morgan carefully and with his own eyes.

So, Lorenzo thought if he were to do the same, then perhaps he would stand to gain some of Miguel's clarity. Some of his conviction.

It was worth a shot.

Pulling his cell phone from his inside jacket pocket, Lorenzo dialed Pedro.

"Hello?"

"Are you watching Ms. Quartermaine right now?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Where is she?"

"The girl and her bodyguard just arrived at Kelly's Diner in town. She went in, but the guard is standing watch outside."

Lorenzo closed his eyes, disappointed. There would be no way the guard would simply allow him to walk into Kelly's and introduce himself to the girl. He could wait it out, but this being Emily's first day with security, it would be unlikely that he would give the girl much time to herself, or allow much opportunity for her to be alone. Sighing resignedly, Lorenzo decided that a face to face wouldn't happen this time. But that didn't mean he couldn't at least inspect his new prospect from afar, now did it?

"All right, I'm coming over there now. Keep an eye on her. If she leaves, let me know."

"Sure thing, Sir."

-----

Emily, perched on one of the barstools, smiled as Lucky poured her a cup of coffee. "What are you doing back there," she asked him swiveling to her side a bit so she could face both Nikolas, who was sitting next to her, and Lucky, who was now leaning on the counter with his arms folded.

"Well, since Elizabeth quit, Penny's been stretched pretty tight. I just figured that, while I was here, I would give her a bit of a hand, before the poor thing keels over from exhaustion."

Emily nodded, understanding all too well just how hectic things used to get around the diner. "That's awfully sweet of you."

Eyebrows in full arch, Lucky flashed a wide grin. "Well, you know, that's just the kind of guy I am. Sweet, thoughtful… insufferably handsome."

Leave it to Lucky, never afraid to toot his own horn. Never. "Is that so?" Emily asked, a hopeful smile springing to her lips. "Well, Mr. 'sweet and thoughtful', do you think you could spare any that good will for your best friend?"

"That depends, little lady. What do you have in mind?"

Nikolas knitted his brow in sympathy for his younger brother, observing the scene. "Lucky, you do realize you're not charming, right? Please tell me you get that."

Ignoring Nikolas as completely as did Lucky, Emily pushed on, looking between her longtime friends with hopeful eyes. "I have news. That's actually the reason I dropped by, I have something to talk to you guys about."

Nikolas knew it. And as he took in the adorable look on her face, the way her brow furrowed slightly as she gnawed nervously at her bottom lip, he smiled to himself. God, how he missed seeing that face. "Lucky, is it just me, or do you feel a 'favor' coming on?" Nikolas leaned closer and watched Emily's eyes narrow and her lips fall into a pout. He loved how easy that was.

"Why do you guys always assume that when I need to talk to the two of you, it's because I want something?" Emily didn't receive an answer, only more staring and an increasingly irritating smile. She glanced to Lucky, and finding that he wore the same amused expression, gave up.

"Oh fine," she huffed, dropping her attention to the purse which sat in her lap. She fished through it for a few seconds, mumbling to herself, and then came up triumphantly with a set of keys clipped onto a small silver ring. She dangled them out in front of her. "Here."

Lucky looked confused. Reaching out, he took them from her. "What is this?" He asked, turning the set over in his hands.

That trademark Emily beam stretched across her face. "Those," she said, nodding to the keys in Lucky's hands. "Are the keys to my new apartment."

Nikolas's eyes grew wide as his smile faded. "You moved out of the Quartermaine mansion?"

"So the bird has left the nest again, huh?" Lucky smirked, returning the keys to Emily's hand.

"More like flew the coop, only—with any luck—for good this time." She noted the raised eyebrows and went on to set them at ease. "With Skye, Ned and Baby Kristina all living in the main house, and Grandfather following me around all day, never losing an opportunity to remind me of what a "horrific mistake" I made with "that deviant Zander", I think the novelty of living home again wore off pretty quickly. It's just too… institution-like at the moment. Between the warring over Kristina and all the daily drama with Dillon, there's just way too much crazy, even for us. I think it's time to go out on my own already." Emily sighed and pulled a hand through her flowing brown hair. "After rehab and Stanford I just need some peace right now, which is something I obviously won't find there."

Lucky and Nikolas nodded sympathetically. Normally they would feel moved to do their "brotherly" duty and ask if this was really what she wanted, but it appeared that from her set jaw and the traces of saddened acceptance in her dark eyes, that Emily had already been down that particular road of deliberation. Family meant a great deal to Emily, and if she was willing to pack up and move away from it only three months after getting back home, then it was pretty safe to say that Emily had made up her mind. And everyone knew what happened when Emily made up her mind.

"So," Lucky started, "where is this place?"

"Brighton Terrace, Penthouse 5."

Nikolas guffawed. "Wait—across the street from Jason?" That should be interesting.

Emily nodded, rolling her eyes. "Well, you tend to do whatever your co-signer wants, especially when he happens to be your big brother. Besides, it was either Brighton Terrace or PH6 at Harborview Towers." Emily gave an involuntary shudder. She loved her brother dearly, but the mere idea of living that close to Carly was enough to make her eyes cross. "Trust me. This is better. A lot better."

"Okay, so you're not in the Towers, but you have to realize that won't discourage your brother, Emily. If anything he'll close ranks even tighter; he'll have guards stationed outside your door all the time," Nikolas reminded her.

"Well, if that's what Jase wants, it's not like I could do anything to stop him, Nikolas. And anyway, my brother won't be swarming me with doormen," she said confidently.

Nikolas gave her his best 'oh really' look. "And why would you say that?"

Emily brought the coffee mug to her lips slowly as she pitched her gaze in Johnny's direction. "Who needs just a doorman when you've got a twenty-four hour shadow?"

Nikolas and Lucky followed her gaze, instantly recognizing the bodyguard who stood motionless just outside the door. "Oh," Nikolas nodded, understanding, but then remembering who it was he was speaking to. Emily didn't like guards. Emily didn't like being coddled. Not in the least. "Wait, are you trying to tell us that you're okay with being guarded full time?"

The brunette shrugged. "I did it for Jason… and besides, it's actually not as bad as I thought it would be." Emily smiled as her gaze once again drifted back to the guard outside. "Johnny's a nice guy. Quiet, but nice. He's not as nervous around me as Max, either." Turning back to them, Emily took another sip of her coffee. "I think we'll get along famously."

Famously? That had better not have meant what he thought it meant. Emily was a good girl to the core, but the young Quartermaine had an unfortunate penchant for Bad Boys, and looking at this Johnny, Nikolas' throat constricted as he realized the bodyguard fit the bill perfectly. Oh god, please not again… She was just coming off Smith; she truly didn't need another Sonny wannabe sniffing after her.

Lucky watched, amused, as the lines on his brother's forehead deepened at the hint of fondness in Emily's tone. There was definitely a little room to play here, Lucky thought. Definitely. Leaning forward on his elbows, Lucky glanced behind Emily at the guard stationed outside, before ducking closer to his friend, grinning something wicked. "Yeah, well, just don't go falling for the guy, Em," he joked, taking a particular pleasure in Nikolas' jaw nearly crashing through the countertop. "If you want peace, going gaga over a bodyguard may not be the best way to go about getting it."

Emily nearly choked. "Are you kidding me!" She asked in a harsh whisper, swiping at her mouth with a napkin. "Johnny O'Brien? He's like a living, breathing extension of my big brother, how do you fall for that?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe the same way you fall for your kidnapper." The second the words were out, Nikolas wished he could snatch them back, and erase them form the air. Because suddenly that's all there was: dead air. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Emily glared at him, her mouth slightly agape. She realized that after her and Zander officially called it quits, and with the spilt not being on the best of terms, that eventually she would have to face backlash from the decisions she'd made. But to say that Nikolas' words threw her for loop would have been a grave understatement. True, she had been the lonely teenage girl who fell desperately in love with her kidnapper, and who had spent the next few years tirelessly defending him at every turn, and all to no avail, obviously. It was a part of her life she was trying to put behind her, a chapter she felt better left closed for good, and to have Nikolas throw it back in her face like that stung. Part of her felt it shouldn't, but it did.

Where did he get off? It wasn't like his romantic past was all sunbeams and roses. Did the name Katherine ring a bell?

No pun intended, of course.

But noticing how his shoulders dipped and his eyes closed in self-loathing; Emily decided to save herself the grief of defending her spotty love life, and him the torment of obsessing over a thoughtless comment. She opted instead for the much underrated method of Avoidance and Retreat.

"Okay, this has been… fun, "she drew out the word as she looked Nikolas in the eye. "But the movers will be showing up at my place pretty soon, so I'll just get—" Emily was already off the stool and halfway to the door when Nikolas' hand suddenly wrapped around her wrist and stopped her cold.

"Em, wait."

-----

Turning the key in his front door, Ric pushed it open, scanning the living room for any sign of his wife.

Empty. But that didn't necessarily mean she wasn't home.

"Elizabeth?" Ric called for her as he peeked his head into the hallway. "Elizabeth, sweetie, are you home?"

He waited for an answer, gauging the silence. She could be in her studio, he thought, but even if she was, it wouldn't matter.

Weaving his way to the far wall of the living room, Ric retrieved the small black remote from his pants pocket and pointed it at the wall. The panel slid back smoothly, silently, and he stepped inside the small cinder block room, depressing the button again to secure the door closed behind him.

Sighing, Ric slinked to the cot that stood against the far wall and dropped down onto it, his head resting in his hands.

So, he'd gone to Lorenzo, risking his life in an attempt to settle a score, and what happens? He doesn't get what he wants, and he finds a picture of his wife's best friend in the possession of PC's very own Big Bad.

What was he supposed to do with this? If it had been anyone else but Emily in that picture, keeping quiet would have been the obvious answer, not to mention the safest. But it wasn't anyone else. It was Emily Quartermaine, his beloved wife's dearest friend and most trusted confidant. How could he possibly allow harm to befall someone that meant so very much to Elizabeth? It would be akin to pushing Audrey in the path of a bullet, or tossing Sarah to the sharks, both things he could never conceive of doing.

But then, on the flip side of the coin, Emily was Jason Morgan's sister, and no doubt surrogate sister to Sonny. Allowing Alcazar to manipulate both men by way of Emily could be particularly rewarding. And seeing just how much Jason cared for his sister, the waves of anguish and torment would undoubtedly jump seamlessly from him to Sonny. If Alcazar harmed the girl, used her against his brother and Jason, Sonny would be racked with guilt over another innocent trapped in the endless web of pain and destruction that was his life. He would have no one to blame but himself. The cycle would continue. And if anything happened to Emily not even Morgan, for all his blind faith and unwavering devotion, would stand with Sonny when the dust settled. After all, even mindless thugs know the limits of loyalty.

The possibilities were infinite. And the aftermath could be stunning.

Sure, it wouldn't be the quiet revenge he'd thought out so perfectly. But it would be a careful and, most importantly, painful deconstruction of the man he hated more than any other. And that alone could make his silence worth it, or in the very least tolerable.

But still, this was supposed to be about Sonny (with Carly of course being an unfortunate victim of circumstance), but Emily? Ric didn't even know her. Did he really have the right to hold his tongue and allow an unsuspecting girl—who was Elizabeth's best friend, no less—to be used this way? If he permitted this, then he would become what he despised: a man who allowed innocents to pay for mistakes not their own doing, to bare the brunt of pain not intended for them.

If Alcazar hurt Emily, or… oh, god… killed her even, Elizabeth would be devastated, utterly heartbroken. How could he ever live with himself knowing he could have spared her that kind of heartache?

Ric wasn't an evil man, but allowing such a thing to take place would forever blur the lines between justice, and vengeance-at-any-cost. There would be no coming back from that. From any of it.

No matter how righteous his cause, how necessary his actions, Ric doubted anything could ever truly justify Emily's death. She was too close to it all to be considered collateral damage, yet too removed from the situation to be viewed as a true target. The girl's only crime was being Jason's sister, and even that wasn't a crime. If anyone understood how little blood meant, it was Ric. Emily didn't deserve to be harmed or to die simply because of who her family was. Ric had made the mistake of thinking along those lines once, he wouldn't allow it again. But if Alcazar took this to the extremes Ric believed he could, then this would be so much worse than what he did to Courtney. Lorenzo Alcazar was a man who lived by a different set of rules than most. He wouldn't think twice about killing Emily if he thought it the best way to get what he wanted, and to also exact some kind of twisted revenge in Luis's name. Call it two birds with one stone, if you will. Hell, call it anything at all. Because under any name, Ric was positive it wouldn't be pretty.

Clutching his skull tighter in frustration, his fingernails digging into his scalp, Ric drew in a shaky, uncertain breath.

What the hell was he going to do?

-----

Through the chain link fence at the tarmac's edge, Jason watched as the jet that held Courtney, Carly and Michael took off. At his side, Sonny heaved a sigh, running a hand over his face. "It better this way. It's… safer, for everyone."

Jason nodded, still watching the jet trail up into blue. Uncertainty practically dripped from Sonny's words, but Jason new better than to point it out. After all, it wasn't like this choice was easy for him either. Nothing was easy about sending Courtney up those steps and watching her wave goodbye through that window. Nothing.

Sonny leaned back on his heels, suddenly very interested in the black asphalt between his feet. "Did you meet with Myer? Has he heard anything, any rumblings?"

He wasn't sure why, but part of Jason thought Sonny was going to say something else. What exactly that something was, he found himself even less sure of. But it didn't matter. Sonny decided to stick with what needed sticking to right then: Business. And Jason hardly believed the man could be blamed for that.

"Yeah," Jason said, tucking his hands into his jeans pockets. "He's got nothing, Sonny. Not even a whisper."

Hints of curbed fury flickered in Sonny's eyes, mingling seamlessly with disbelief. "Nothing? That doesn't make any damn sense! How in the hell can he have nothing three days after someone tried to kidnap Carly?"

Would sighing be redundant? How about throwing up his hands in disgust and stalking off, dumfounded as to how Sonny could be so unwilling to see?

Yeah. Probably.

But Jason didn't much care right then. He'd tried silent obedience, playing the role of the 'good little soldier'. But he'd failed, miserably. And so for the past three days Sonny and he had been going back and forth in arguments. Jason had tried everything he could think of to get through to his friend, but nothing worked. It was like someone had dropped a soundproof box around Sonny. Nothing got in, and to be honest, nothing got out. Nothing but 'Ric didn't do it'. Jason was spent. He didn't want to do this anymore, but when it came to Ric, he didn't think there was any other option but to keep pushing on until Sonny finally opened up his eyes and saw his brother for what he really was. Not some jilted and emotionally unbalanced little brother, whose only true desire is to be accepted into Sonny's world, but as a heartless whack-job with nothing but revenge on his mind. With that harsh fact rumbling through his thoughts, Jason knew he couldn't just let this one be. There was too much at stake, even if Sonny couldn't admit that to himself yet.

Taking in a rough breath, Jason let out his simple reply. "You know why."

Sonny clenched his eyes closed in frustration. Surely this wasn't the relationship every mob boss shared with his Enforcer, being second guessed and quietly put in his place? Jason may have been his friend, his best friend. Hell, probably the only man on this earth he could truly trust, but how many times would he be forced to go over this? Over the past three days Sonny had nearly lost count.

Squaring his jaw, he moved in front of Jason, burning two holes into the top of the other man's head. "Start digging where it counts, Jason." When Jason finally looked up, Sonny sighed, dropping his arms at his sides. "The sooner we get rid of this black cloud hanging over our lives, the sooner our family comes home."

Jason blinked once and kept his stare as vacant as Sonny's was desperate and cold. If Jason were a different man, he'd think that maybe—just maybe—the Ric who had invaded their lives, plunging it into a state of upheaval, had been snatched up and carted away somewhere, being replaced with this new, kindler, gentler… trustable Ric, whom Sonny seemed so keen on defending these days. But, Jason wasn't any other man, and he was still incapable of such fantastical thinking. Ric Lansing was still Ric Lansing. He was still the enemy. When exactly did Sonny start to lose sight of that?

Keeping his form stoic, Jason spoke with conviction, "I will make the person who is behind this pay, no matter who it turns out to be."

As usual, Jason had made himself clear in as little words as necessary. Most times, that ability had been one of the qualities Sonny admired in Jason. He was to the point, concise. He never minced words, and he never sugar coated a damn thing. And the Enforcer earned his brevity points here, each and every one of them. In one sentence, one reasonably short sentence, Jason had basically told Sonny—again—that he didn't care about his wishes, didn't give a damn about what Sonny believed to be true. The only thing that mattered was what Jason couldn't see past, what Sonny was beginning to believe Jason would never see past.

Sonny weighed his options for a response. He could yell. He did that all the time, was quite good at it. He could threaten, remind Jason—who was still essentially his employee—that defiance was not appreciated and wouldn't be tolerated much longer. Sonny was quite good at that, too.

Or, he could hold his tongue and realize that he wasn't the only one hurt by all of this. Jason was being affected by what had almost happened and by what they had been forced to do as a result. In short, Sonny could let this one slide, as long as they never started up this sickening Did-Not/Did-To routine ever again. The whole thing was like beating his head up against a brick wall, just as productive and about as enjoyable. He wanted it done. He wanted it over. Even if that meant letting Jason have his suspicions of Ric, and even letting him act on them, just as long as he didn't get too carried away.

Because that's all they were, suspicions... right? He wasn't being foolish believing so adamantly in the truce offered up by his brother, his family, right? Ric wouldn't go so far as to try and steal Carly and the baby from him. The thought was twisted, so much so that the mere idea of it churned the contents of Sonny's stomach and fueled a steady, pulsating anger within his veins. No, Sonny thought, quelling his fears before they had a chance to take root. He and Ric would never be friends and they would probably never be able to stand one another's company, but they were still brothers. Family. Blood. That had to count for something. It had to.

Shaking off the disturbing thoughts, Sonny looked at Jason again, resignedly. The coldness in Jason's eyes only managed to drain away more of Sonny's fight. Perhaps now more than ever, the difference between Sonny and his enforcer were excruciatingly obvious. Jason couldn't believe what Sonny believed, not until he could see proof that Ric had nothing to do with it. The accident that gave birth to Jason Morgan, was also responsible for making him into a steadfast man of logical, if not, at times, tunnel vision-like thinking. In his mind, Ric was all he could see. The only option, the only answer. And until Jason came across evidence to the contrary, Ric would remain all those things. Sonny couldn't verbally beat Ric out of Jason's mind, only Jason could dispel those suspicions. And in knowing that, Sonny turned and walked away, leaving the air around Jason thick with tension and heavy with meaning.

Jason watched Sonny's slowly retreating form, watched him climb into the black car, and watched Max drive them away. Jason wasn't stupid, he knew what that damn near unbearable silence had been about, what it signified. Sonny's silence gave him permission—although reluctantly—to peruse his misgivings. It wasn't anywhere near a blessing, but more like a defeated concession, a very unwilling one, but one nonetheless.

And Jason decided to make the best of it.

-----

Johnny's watchful gaze flickered to inside the busy diner as a sudden movement drew his attention. It seemed that Emily had gotten up to leave when something had ended her advance to the door abruptly. The bodyguard's face fell into a questioning stare as he tried to discern the situation. Why was Emily stopped in her tracks like that?

But as he saw the girl sink back down, defeated almost, into the swiveling stool, Johnny breathed out, relived, if not just a little annoyed with himself. He needed to get a grip, bad. The girl was with her friends… no big neon signs flashing "Danger!" here. Just chit chat and laughs.

Peeling his gaze away form her back, Johnny took another visual sweep of the courtyard. Kelly's seemed safe enough, he guessed. But safe was a loose term nowadays. The church was supposed to be safe. Look how that almost turned out.

Scrunching his brow, the bodyguard tried to push down the lingering thoughts of the other day, but as usual, found himself unsuccessful. They had come so close to having the unthinkable take place, and it just ate at him. It shouldn't have happened, not there, not then, not on that night of all nights. That night was supposed to be a happy one for once, and instead events spiral wildly out of control, touching off a temporary period of complete lockdown.

God, he hated this, the not being able to trust in anything. Well, it wasn't like his could ever really trust anything in his line of work. In fact, not trusting things was a part of his job description. Take nothing at face value, and so forth. But now… well, everything just seemed so much worse. Somebody had tried to scoop Mrs. C, and worst of all it had to have been someone close. So, understandably, it didn't take a genius to decipher why everyone was so twitchy, for lack of a better term. It was simple: silent enemy with immediate access to your nearest and dearest plus not one iota of evidence to track the freak with equals one hell of a problem. So basically, it meant that until the source was found, Jason and Sonny couldn't do a damn thing but try and cover their bases, which could prove difficult seeing as though they had an awful lot of them. But that was where he came in. It was his job to give Sonny and Jason the peace of mind that came with knowing Emily was being looked after and being protected fiercely.

Casting a glance back in her direction, Johnny stared intently for a moment, allowing himself to think on how agreeable the young woman had been with him, how eager to please, how unwilling to rock the boat, yet firm in her need to extend her thoughtfulness. A ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Something told Johnny that he wasn't going to mind his new job so much.

But to not mind it, he had to do it, which at that moment meant calling Jason to check in.

Unfolding his arms, Johnny reached blindly into his left jacket pocket for his phone, but came up empty when his fingers snatched at air.

What the hell?

As he hastily patted himself down, feeling for the missing cell phone, a disgusted look washed over the guard's features.

The car…

It seemed the bodyguard was suddenly faced with a dilemma. The cell was in the car, and he needed the cell to check in with Jason by… the guard tugged up his jacket sleeve and cringed. He had to call Jason by three o'clock—which happened to be in just a little under four minutes—or… well, Johnny didn't want to dwell too much on what would happen if he slipped up on that front, but it wasn't like he could just leave Emily unattended while he bolted for the thing.

The guard furrowed his brow in brief contemplation as he peeked in on Emily again. She was fine, no immediate danger looming over her, perfectly all right just sitting at the counter with Cassadine and Spencer. And the car was only a couple minutes away… he could go get the cell phone and be back before Emily even had the chance to notice. Nothing could happen in three lousy minutes.

Not even giving himself the chance to rethink it, Johnny turned and headed back to the car.

-----

Pure reaction kicked in and Emily wrenched her arm away, flinching as she saw the hurt flash in Nikolas' eyes. Oh god, she hadn't meant to do that.

Nikolas tried to shake it off, pretending as if her sudden movement away from him didn't sting somewhere deep inside. She had never done that before. And worst of all, he couldn't truly understand where it had come from. Sure, he had tripped over his own tongue and said something mind numbingly thoughtless, but was it really that awful? Could she really be that upset? "Emily… look, I didn't mean to—" Guilt flooded her features as Emily brought up a hand to wave him off.

"Nikolas, it's…" Emily bit at her lip with a new tiredness creeping into her thoughts. She didn't want to fight. Not with him, not now, preferably not ever. "Just forget it, okay? I overreacted, went a little Drama Queen. No harm done." Emily finished with a small smile; one she hoped conveyed her genuine wish to squash this before it got bigger than it needed to be.

"No, Em. I shouldn't have—"

"It's finished." The words came out a bit more clipped than Emily intended, and she quickly flashed a watery smile to smooth the edges. "It's just…" She floundered a moment for the right thing to say, but cut herself off with a defeated sigh. "I really should get going."

As Emily rose from the stool, Nikolas tried again to go after her, only to have a firm hand bury itself in the back of his shirt, and stop him cold.

Nikolas turned to see Lucky shake his head in dissuasion.

"But she can't just—" As Lucky glared him silent, Nikolas thought fleetingly that complete sentences just weren't in the cards for him today.

"She wants to drop it," Lucky whispered. "Don't go digging for trouble."

"I don't want her to leave like this!" he hissed back.

Lucky had to admit he shared his brothers feelings, and even though Em wasn't ticked at him, he didn't want her going home all pouty and sad. It killed him when she got like that.

"Hey, Em?"

Lucky's voice drew her back just as her fingers touched the door. She pivoted to face him. "Hmm?"

Coming out from behind the counter, Lucky walked closer, his hands tucked boyishly into the pockets of his jeans. "How 'bout we come over later and help with the unpacking, order some pizza… maybe make a night of it? I mean, that was what you were gonna ask us about earlier, right?" he asked hopefully.

Emily let a chuckle rise in her throat. Lucky was a damn expert at that, at making her come around even when she really didn't want to. Smiling, she pushed lightly at the door, clanging the bell above. "That sounds good. I'll see you guys later."

-----

He could scarcely believe his luck. There he was, quietly observing flashes of long brown hair through glass, all while avoiding the watchful gaze of Emily's private guard dog, when said guard suddenly bolted from the courtyard as if his very feet were on fire. It couldn't have been more perfect if he had scripted it himself.

-----

Stepping outside, Emily let the wooden door slip from her hands while her eyes searched the stoned courtyard cautiously, a confused frown pulling at her eyebrows. It seemed her pre-approved stalker had decided to become slightly less, erm, stalker-like. Where the hell was he?

"Um… Johnny?" She said to air, flickering glances about the small area. "Hello…? Johnny?"

With silence her only answer, Emily's frown gave way to a set of pursed, annoyed lips as her arms crossed over her chest. "Okay, I'm not exactly an authority on this whole bodyguard thing, but I'm pretty sure doing the job requires you to actually be, you know, present."

"I think you may have a point there."

Emily nearly jumped out for her skin at the silky baritone that pierced the silence. Turning to the voice, a breath caught in her throat, the image she encountered suddenly causing her synapses to fire all wrong. She knew there was no conceivable way she could be seeing what she was seeing, but she was seeing it, plain as day. Was that…? No… it couldn't be. Emily had only seen pictures, never got the un-pleasure of a face-to-face, but still, if memory served, this guy sure looked a lot like…

"Y-you can't be…" Her eyes squinted in examination, and Emily surprised even him when she took a tentative step closer to the man who now stood in the center of Kelly's small courtyard. "Aren't you, um… dead?"

So it wasn't exactly the response Lorenzo expected, but then most everything about this Quartermaine girl seemed to be surprising him. He liked it.

"Almost…" He grinned a slow, cunning smile, the one most women found damn near irresistible. "… a few times, but as luck would have it no one's managed to finish the job quite yet."

If it were even possible, Emily's brow furrowed more, Lorenzo's words not really registering. This couldn't be Luis Alcazar. He was dead. This man was very much alive. "Who are you?" The question left her lips so quickly, Emily didn't even think to explore the possibility that striking up a conversation with a man who looked just like one of the worst baddies to hit town in years, may not have been the smartest way to go, especially all by her lonesome.

Lorenzo extended his hand, his Cheshire cat grin still firmly intact. "Lorenzo Alcazar."

Lorenzo Alcazar? Lorenzo… not Luis. Right. Of course. A brother… it had to be a brother. Emily tore her eyes away form Lorenzo's face, dropping them to his outstretched hand. Okay, was this guy serious? He was blood related to the man who kidnapped her mother, who killed Nikolas' Aunt, tried to kill Zander and Sonny, left Alexis—the mother of her cousin—in the snow while in labor no less, kidnapped Brenda…. Emily could go on and on. And this Lorenzo guy just walks up to her, sticks his hand out, and expects her to shake it? In what universe exactly? Casually meeting his eyes again, Emily steeled her gaze, keeping her arms firmly crossed.

Point taken. This girl was tough, loyal. He could practically smell the contempt as it radiated off her. This one wasn't a fan of his brother's. Not by long a shot. Nor did she have reason to be. Replacing his arm at his side, Lorenzo tucked his hands into his pockets, his smile only faltering for a moment. "I see my brother's reputation once again precedes our name, even from beyond the grave."

Emily cocked her head to the side, still trying to figure out where all this was going. "Any reason why it shouldn't?"

With every second that passed, Lorenzo found himself understanding more and more why Morgan was so completely possessive of the little thing. She wasn't a push over, and she was far from a wilting flower, but there was so much more to her, in her eyes. He could see it, feel it even. She had an air about her that was deeply fascinating. "No, I suppose not," he answered her, still intently examining the fiery little creature that stood before him. "My brother made some… unsavory choices, did things that were—"

"Unconscionable? Horrific? Deplorable? Sick?" Emily stared squarely at the older man, a trick she picked up from Jason. "Feel free to take your pick."

At her quick as lightening reply, Lorenzo took a moment to unabashedly look over the petite brunette from head to toe. The girl was in warrior stance, her legs set sturdily beneath her, her arms folded, her shoulders squared. She wasn't the least bit intimidated by him, or even by the name. Oh yes, he thought, the term "fiery" fit her perfectly. Matching the way her head tipped lightly to the side, Lorenzo smiled again, wider this time, a nearly inaudible laugh rumbling in his throat. "You are very much like your brother, Ms. Quartermaine. It's hard to believe you're not blood related."

And there it was… the giant red flag. This man was obviously just as much an enemy to Jason as the other one had been. It only seemed good business that he knew the ins and outs of Jason's life, which, of course, included her. But Emily would be lying if she tried to deny that Lorenzo's knowledge wasn't just a tad creepy. Her being adopted wasn't exactly something everyone knew about. But if this guy expected her to shudder and gasp at the fact that he knew her name and her bloodline, then he must have been off his rocker, or at the very least, not as up on her as he thought. "You know, it's funny how often I get that. Guess it just proves that even though it may not seem like it, some things are just meant to be."

Again with the surprises. Well, he couldn't say he whole heartedly believed she would squirm at his comment, just that he hoped it would have at least rattled her, if only a smidge. Since when do little girls find it all right to be approached by strange men who know their name and their history? But then, Lorenzo supposed that Emily Quartermaine wasn't the average little girl, if one could even use that term in connection to her at all. "I suppose it does," he answered quietly.

"Fabulous." Emily said unenthusiastically. "Now, if you don't mind, I really have to be…elsewhere." She didn't even give him another glance as she dropped her arms to her sides and began to turn away.

Without thinking, and honestly without even knowing why, Lorenzo reached out, his fingertips barely grazing the fabric of her jacket just as a hurried figure shifted into his line of sight, its face the very picture of fury.

"Get the hell away from her!"

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TBC…