What If…
Chapter 36
Courtyard
From her current position Rory noticed several things. First of all Carly's shoes probably cost more than her entire hospital bill, next Francis went to the effort of shining his shoes, and finally it was past time she bought some new boots. Her favorite pair hadn't come through her misadventure with the cliff very well. There was more baldness then color on the face of them these days and that just wasn't kosher. Depressed over the thought of her rapidly depleting bank account Rory lifted her head from between her knees and glared at the smug looking blonde. "I bet you enjoyed that."
Seeing no point in lying Carly merely nodded. "Yes."
If she'd felt better she would take great pleasure in wiping that smug little smile off Blondie's face, but at the moment her stomach was still rolling at the thought of being mistaken for someone who was considered a role model. The thought was so horrifying she felt like going out and doing something so horrendous she would get her face plastered all over the papers and that way no one in this town could ever mistake her for Elizabeth Webber. Narrowing her eyes she studied Francis and wondered how he would be as a getaway driver in a bank job. Working for Sonny he had to have some sort of experience he could call upon that she could use to shed this goody, goody image this face of hers seemed to have in this town.
"I take it this is the reason for all the strange little moments that have been happening that no one would explain?" Carly broke through her plotting.
"Was it so wrong to want you to hate me for me, and not because your mother held my doppelganger up once as the beat all, end all you should strive for?" Rory complained.
"I guess not." Carly decided to let her anger with Rory pass and tack it on to the anger she already had for Sonny. "If it helps any no one would consider you to be a role model now."
Hearing a snort behind her Rory turned to glare at a placid face Francis before facing Carly. "Of course I'm not a role model. If I were would I be hanging around you Blondie?"
Relieved that things had returned to where they were supposed to be Carly retaliated in kind. "Listen Ms. Muffin Face I don't have anymore time to waste on you."
"Why you," insulted Rory began only to be cutoff.
"Given your resemblance to someone you want to remain nameless I think the name applies." Ignoring Rory's sputtering Carly was busy congratulating herself on the way all her meetings with Rory had gone that day. The congratulations were short-lived when she saw someone approaching that could kill a mood quicker then Taggert. Acting on impulse like she always did, she turned, grabbed Rory's arm and began pulling her in the direction of Francis.
"What the hells gotten into you?" Rory tried to dig her heels in. But if her earlier decision to buy new boots hadn't been made it would've been at that point when the heel of one of them gave way on the uneven pavement.
"Quiet." Carly hissed, reaching Francis she thrust Rory's arm at him then shifted until she was blocking her from view of any approaching person.
"What?"
"If you thought Lucky was bad you really need to leave now. His mother is heading this way and believe me when I say anything Lucky got he inherited it from her."
"Say no more." Rory nodded at Francis who had already plotted an escape route. "Thanks for the heads up."
"You ow me one shorty." Carly promised, although it was more like a threat because she always kept her promises. Watching their retreating backs she couldn't help wishing she were with them Laura always gave her such a headache.
"Carly." Surprised Laura faltered a step then hurried forward when temper came on. "I wanted to talk to you."
"Laura," Carly's response was cold and bored. Her eyes raked over her partner's appearance. No one would ever believe the woman before her was the partner in a major cosmetics corporation. As usual Laura was clad in black, layer upon layer of black, her paler then pale white skin broken up by a vivid splash of too bold red over her lips. Didn't she realize that while black could be slimming, continued draping of it made you look like a blob?
"How dare you speak to Monsieur Davida without me and after I already had a meeting with him. I'm handling this promotion, not you. He doesn't need to be confused by two vastly different visions." Laura began her tirade.
"The only vision you had was a nightmare and believe me Monsieur Davida knew it," Carly cut her off mid-complaint. "And speaking of the designer he was ready to quit the project after your meeting with him. He considers himself an artist and has no wish to create something a 12th grader could do."
Furious Laura stepped closer, but instead of backing off Carly moved in as well. "You don't know what you're talking about. I'm going for class here, which is something that obviously eludes you."
Carly's grip on her bag and her long ago promise to Sonny were the only reason Laura was still standing after that remark. Trying desperately not to give into temptation she stepped back, opened her bag, and pulled out her cell and pressed a memory button. "Elton I need you to get Monsieur Davida on the phone," she paused. "I don't care what time it is, get him now."
"What are you doing?" Laura demanded.
"Believe it or not Laura I was trying to be nice in my description of your less then spectacular vision. Apparently you need to her the truth from the designer you demanded we hire for the upcoming launch."
Seeing Laura pale Carly was catty enough to put on a superior smile. "Thanks Elton patch him through." Smiling mockingly Carly held out her phone. "It's time for your lesson in class Laura."
Glaring Laura took the phone but her glare soon faded when the person on the other end began to speak.
Warehouse
"When was the last time you actually balanced the books?"
"See you can get curious." Sonny smiled at his partner who gave no reaction merely waited. "I have accountants to balance the books."
Not bothering to reply Jason pinched the bridge of his nose briefly in frustration then got to his feet.
"Things up to date?"
"Yeah all six months worth," Jason's reply was terse.
Sonny caught the ledger that tossed at him. Maybe it was time to put those accountants to work. "Yeah?" All thoughts of whether or not to turn his legitimate books over to accountants faded when a knock sounded on the door.
Johnny opened the door then paused to take stock of the situation. Jason was quiet and standing stiffly by the windows. Sonny was seated, drumming his fingers on the desk, everything looked normal. Deciding it was safe he ventured the rest of the way inside the room.
"What's up?"
"You wanted to know if anything no matter how unusual happened around here or at the Harborview." Johnny paused for a second knowing that would all it would take to get Jason's attention.
"What happened?"
"The night crew at the Harborview mentioned they lost power last night for about 30 minutes beginning around 8:00," Johnny replied.
"You were home then did you notice anything?" Sonny focused on Jason who shook his head.
"We deliberately had the lights off." Jason focused on the guard. "Were we the only building without power? Did the backup generator work the way it was supposed to? Any problems with the special alarms on the penthouse floor?"
Holding up a hand to fend off additional questions Johnny answered them in order. "No we weren't the only building affected. Every building on our particular grid lost power at the same time. The power company's preliminary report is that it was a run of the mill transformer burst that happens occasionally when the circuits are overloaded, they don't suspect foul play."
He turned to Sonny before answering the next question. "The back up generator came on just like it was supposed to and powered the hall lights and stairwell emergency lights like its set up to. It also ran the elevators long enough to lower them one floor down to let people off before shutting them down entirely. Again that is what is supposed to happen. As for the alarms there were no disruptions on the penthouse level, no one touched the stairway doors. Everything worked like clockwork." He summed up.
"What do you think?" Sonny turned to his partner who shrugged.
"It sounds like all the safe guards you put in place worked like they were supposed to and this was just a normal power outage." Jason decided after a minute of consideration.
Sonny nodded in agreement, stood and grabbed his coat. "We better get to Alexis and sign those papers before she leaves."
Jason automatically glanced at his watch. "It's still early for her," he pointed out even as he trailed the others.
"Not since she married candy boy," Sonny spit the name out with such derision Jason couldn't help sharing a smirk with Johnny.
Port Charles Hotel
Night was almost on the city the final streaks of sunset's purplish lights were rapidly fading. Of course to call this provincial town a city was being generous at best, and delusional at worst. The lights, the city boasted could hardly compare to the lights of the Riviera. The shops available were hardly what one would fine in Paris. The hotel itself, while classy for this area was hardly 5-Star. The food, while passable was hardly high quality cuisine, and room service was dreadful. The linens were indescribable. Not only were they not at least 1,000 thread count he doubted they were even 300 count.
For all of these reasons and several others Marin was more than ready to leave the unsightly town of Port Charles behind him never to return. Unfortunately as with everything on this job he was delayed. He hated to be delayed, almost as much as he hated failure and he'd experienced both on this job so it had automatically become his worst job experience as a professional.
The valet had finally returned his dry cleaning only three hours later then requested and he decided to make a critical inspection over the quality of work while replaying the reconnaissance mission of the night before. The timing would be tight but he should have enough time to get into Morgan's penthouse and do what he needed to do before the lights were fixed. All he had to do was make sure he picked a time when all occupants of both penthouses were out. He'd discovered they didn't leave a guard on the door when they weren't there. That was very foolish in his opinion, but in this case very useful.
Spying a small mark on one of his Irish linen shirts Marin very calmly removed it from the hanger and brought it closer to examine. The small dark mark was barely larger then a speck and would be covered by the jacket he always wore over the shirt, but it was imperfection and that simply wouldn't be tolerated. Grasping the shirt in his large hands he tore it in two, then tore it again, and again, and again, with every tear he pictured the valet's face. Marin was smart enough not to draw attention to himself by complaining so he would have to settle for this to express his displeasure.
The last of the shirt pieces fluttered into the trashcan, and Marin's hands were red and felt raw by the time the anger passed and he was willing to focus on something else. The moment he walked away from the trash the issue of the shirt was forgotten. His attention shifted to the blueprints on the table and his face twisted into a grimace. He still hadn't been able to come up with the original blueprints, and as a result he hadn't found the missing square footage in the one penthouse. Even though the problem wasn't in the primary one he didn't want any surprises, he wanted to be prepared for any and all possibilities. As a result he'd attempted to track down the original architect and contractor who built the building. Unfortunately the contractor was dead and the architect was in Italy. He'd been tempted to make a quick trip to Italy to get the info he needed but his already impatient client was starting to get very vocal.
The shrill ring of his cell shattered the quiet of the penthouse and he knew without looking who it was. "Yes."
"You continue to be a disappointment to me."
Infuriated Marin stood and paced to the desk. "I'm almost ready to proceed. I just need to verify one more thing."
"You've run out of time. I've just learned Rory Nichols has agreed to take a DNA test. I need to know what is going on before that test occurs. Either you get the job done in the next two days or I suggest you start running. You might make it a week, a month, perhaps even a year before I find you. But believe me when I say I will find you eventually and I'll show you what happens to people who fail me."
"I don't like being threatened."
"Then start behaving like the expert I believed I was hiring and do your job."
The dial tone sounded in his ear. Marin carefully folded the flip phone before picking up the letter opener from the desk and plunging it into the blotter again, and again, this time it was Rory Nichols' face he was picturing.
General Hospital
"Are you feeling better Audrey?" Bobbie asked softly, habit had her checking her old friend's pulse.
"I'm fine." Embarrassed Audrey tried to ward off the concern. "I was caught off guard."
"That's understandable." Bobbie's instinct was to coddle but recognizing the signs she backed off to let Audrey take the lead.
"I'd heard about her," Audrey began, "I mean I heard there was a woman in town that bore a resemblance to Elizabeth, but I never expected, I mean I never dreamed," she faltered.
"Its okay Audrey. Rory took me by surprise as well." Bobbie touched her hand but didn't do anything else, Audrey was from a different time and wasn't as affectionate as a lot of people were. In fact in times of high stress Audrey seemed to withdraw even further. Bobbie couldn't help but remember the way Audrey had withdrawn when Elizabeth needed her after learning of the rape.
"Is that her name?"
"No her name is Elizabeth," Lucky interrupted. "And thanks to you Mrs. Hardy soon she's going to know that."
"I don't understand," perplexed Audrey shifted her gaze from one glaring Spencer to the other.
"Take it easy there Cowboy," Luke cautioned. "Don't go getting ahead of yourself again."
"You," Lucky pointed at him. "Don't get to tell me what to do." He was so thrilled that she'd agreed to take the test, he was determined not to let anyone ruin this day for him, especially not Luke.
"Like I ever could," Luke grumbled and ambled a step away.
"That girl is not Elizabeth." Audrey had processed Lucky's claim and quickly denied it before any hope could develop inside her.
"Yes she is." Lucky could see the confusion on her face and softened his tone. "She's confused that's all, she doesn't remember who she is. This test will prove the truth and once that happens we'll be there for her, we'll help her remember and reclaim her life."
Rubbing at her temples Audrey stood and to clear her mind. What Lucky was claiming was impossible. Yes the girl looked like Elizabeth but that didn't mean she was her. Especially when there was concrete and devastating proof that Elizabeth was in fact dead. Dealing with Elizabeth's death at such an early age had been extremely difficult. Someone dying young had always seemed pointless to her. But it angered her so much more in Elizabeth's case. Elizabeth had overcome so much in her life, she'd fought so hard to have a life, and was happy, so very happy for the first time in her life. To have it taken from her just when she was on the cusp of embracing life enraged her. It had taken months for that rage to settle into acceptance.
"Mrs. Hardy?"
"Elizabeth's dead Lucky." Audrey refused to open herself up to hope and go through the pain of loss all over again.
"No she's not." Lucky snapped and when Luke tried to stop him he brushed off his restraining hand and went after Elizabeth's grandmother. "You just saw Elizabeth."
"I saw a woman who looked like Elizabeth who had absolutely no idea who I was." Audrey's reply was brutally cold. Feeling the need for self-protection she withdrew physically, crossing her arms over her chest and bringing one hand up to her chin, and eyed the boy who had loved her granddaughter as much as her and shut his pain out. "The DNA test you forced the coroner to perform two years ago conclusively identified Elizabeth's body as the one killed in the explosion at Luke's. I must say I really don't appreciate the way you're using her memory and my feelings in this disgusting way. I'm disappointed in your behavior Lucky and have no desire to see you until you've come to your senses and realize that Elizabeth is indeed dead."
"Mrs. Hardy?" Stung by her words Lucky could only watch her walk away.
"Lucky how could you?" Furious Bobbie wasted no time going after her nephew.
"How could Lucky do what?" Delighted at the unexpected surprise of finding her son at the hospital Laura immediately jumped into the conversation she knew nothing about
Ignoring his mother Lucky focused on his aunt. "I needed to get proof."
"So you stole her blood?" Bobbie cried and when others in the lounge turned to look she headed for the nurse's station. "Do you realize how crazy that was? Even for a Spencer that was out there."
"Stolen blood?" Confused Laura trailed the others. Between her run-in with Carly, her eye-opening phone call with her designer, and now this conversation, this really hadn't been her day.
"You gotta admit it was a sharp plan." Proud Luke stuck up for his son. "His execution was what tripped him up," he turned to Lucky. "You needed to delete all references to the DNA test, if you'd done that you probably would've gotten away Scot-free. You copped the blood out of the lab right?"
"Its in the fridge at my place." Lucky admitted and though he'd never say it aloud he was pleased that Luke approved of his plan. "I thought I'd deleted all references to the test I must've missed one."
"Insurance companies, their the real blood suckers," Luke commiserated.
"What are you people talking about?" Laura demanded answers.
Fed-up and unwilling to tolerate Laura at this particular moment in time Bobbie turned on her brother. "You shouldn't encourage him. He could have gone to jail for what he did."
"Hell," Luke shrugged off her words. "If the boy was placed in jail the first time he could have been, he would have been in there at age 8."
"And you're proud of that aren't you?" Infuriated at the Spencer male ego Bobbie stalked off as fast as her four-inch heels would let her.
Unused to being ignored Laura stepped forward and raised her voice, her glare piercing first Lucky then Luke. "Will someone tell me what is going on?"
Lucky's gaze remained on his father who turned from Laura to look at him. Luke knew this was a test. If he interrupted his conversation with Lucky to explain things to Laura, his boy would be out the door. If he waited Laura would get madder and madder, but Laura was always mad at him these days. In the end it wasn't even a choice. "Bobbie does have a point. You did take a risk."
"Life's a risk. Growing up around you taught me that." Lucky stepped in front of and continued ignoring a still fuming Laura. "Now that you've seen her what do you think?"
Knowing his answer was going to be an important one Luke took his time. He popped his shoulder, stretched out his neck, scratched his cheek, then pulled a cigar from the inside pocket of his coat and began to roll it in his fingers.
Used to his father's tics Lucky watched and waited.
Finally he placed the unlit cigar in his mouth. "She was definitely the splitting image of Elizabeth."
Lucky smiled in triumph.
"But then she opened her mouth. And I got to tell you the words flying from her mouth were nothing like the sort Elizabeth would say. Especially not those shots she directed at you," Luke finished.
"Who took a shot at you?" Determined not to be left out Laura was trying to piece together what they were saying and give it some logical reason, so far she was failing.
"Rory." Luke threw her a bone.
"Elizabeth." Lucky countered immediately and Laura grew even more confused.
"Elizabeth's lost she's confused just like I told Mrs. Hardy, she doesn't remember who she is. If you add Jason's influence to her memory loss," Lucky shrugged. "Don't you see once the DNA test results come in and she realizes the truth about herself she'll turn to me and others who know and love her to get her memory back?"
"I admire the Spencer confidence when I see it." Luke smiled proudly even while a part of his heart broke. "But son, Audrey had a point, Elizabeth was identified and buried more then two years ago."
"Tests can be wrong." Lucky retorted immediately then instead of continuing the argument with his father he withdrew. "You'll see. Everyone will see I'm right. Once the results are back they'll prove that Rory is really Elizabeth." With that he turned and left.
"Will you tell me what is going on?" Laura demanded answers from her estranged husband.
Pulling the cigar from his mouth he smelled it wistfully and knew it would be awhile before he could light it.
"Luke." Impatience was practically shimmering around her.
"Let me tell you a little story about a girl named Rory who has the power to break our son's nose and his heart…" he began with a lilt in his voice.
L&B
When the hand closed on her arm basic human survival instinct overtook her. Screaming Emily yanked her arm free then hit the rack that separated her from her attacker with all her might toppling it over and sending everything on it falling on the person on the other side. A chain reaction began to happen and the next two racks also began falling as Emily ran past them and out the storeroom door. She thought she heard her name being called but didn't pause until she was out in the crisp night air of the parking lot.
Breathing heavily she bent over and sucked in some oxygen then rubbed at her arms, she didn't know if she was chilled because of the cool temperature or because of what had just happened, she didn't think she'd ever know for sure. Her coat and purse were inside the studio but there was no way she was going back inside to retrieve them. She'd hail a cab and take it home and Reginald could pay for it. Decision made she hurried for the street caution made her turn to check the door to make sure no one was following her. The move made her off-balanced and she fell into a car. Automatically she put a hand down to steady herself and could feel heat from the cooling engine that was coming up through the hood. Glancing down it only took her a second to recognize the car it took less than that to identify the person she'd just buried in boxes in the storeroom. "Nikolas."
For a long minute she stood there staring at his black jag and was severely tempted to leave him exactly where he was. It was his fault scaring her like that. If he'd answered her when she called out she never would've dumped the rack on him. By remaining quiet he'd scared the hell out of her so he was entitled to any bruises he might have received from the falling boxes. On the other hand he could be seriously hurt and his car was the only one in the parking lot, it meant she was the only available to dig him out. "One day this guilt complex is really going to screw me over."
Her return trip was much different then her flight outside the building a few minutes before. Now that she wasn't in a panicked rush her eyes caught little details she'd missed in her earlier flight to freedom. Things like Nikolas' coat on the couch next to hers, a stack of files and a briefcase on his desk, that hadn't been there when she'd begun her day in the storeroom. Apparently she'd dawdled, worried, or daydreamed for too long and gotten caught by him.
Bypassing his desk her steps slowed as she entered the narrow hall that led to the studio, she walked by the recording and mixing rooms, and the small recording booths and headed for the open door at the end of the hall. She half expected to see Nikolas standing there with that superior look on his face, the one only he could pull off, but he wasn't there.
"Nikolas?" Her voice sounded timid and she didn't like that. "Are you alive?" When there was no response she entered the room and headed for the side that had overturned racks. "Either answer me now or I'm out of here. After all your silent treatment is what started this whole thing in the first place."
"How do you figure that?"
Emily smiled in relief at his put upon tone, which verified he was okay before finding her anger again. Stepping as close as she could given the barrier of the stands, which were half on their side, the top half resting against the wall, the bottom tipped on two legs on the floor. She squatted down and peered through the boxes until she spotted him sitting on the floor under the third rack amidst a pile of boxes. The expression on his face was one of such disgust she couldn't help but smile. "If you'd identified who you were when I asked I wouldn't have pushed this on you when you grabbed me," she informed him haughtily.
"Do you think you could postpone yelling at me long enough to get these racks up?"
Emily was surprised he could sound regal even when sitting on the floor surrounded by boxes then shrugged. If anyone could sound regal Nikolas could, well Nikolas and more then likely Stefan. Of course she couldn't picture Stefan sitting on a concrete floor.
"Emily?"
"Just a minute." Stepping back she considered what would be the best approach. Finally she headed back down the aisle she was in when she tipped the first rack over and came to a stop when she saw Nikolas through the slat. "You push I'll pull."
Taking a look at her face he knew better than to argue so he followed her orders. Soon the rack was upright. Before he could say anything she moved on to the next rack and looked pointedly at him, sighing he crawled under it and pushed that one up, they repeated the process for the last one as well. Soon the only evidence that the racks had been tipped over at all were the boxes, CD cases, tape reels, and other miscellaneous items and boxes that littered the storeroom floor.
Leaving the mess for him Emily pivoted and left the room. She heard several thumps behind her and what she assumed were curses being directed at her in some exotic foreign language. Eager to leave she hurried into the main room and picked up her coat.
"When are you going to stop running away from me?"
"I'm not running." Emily's reply was defensive as was her stance. She stood on the steps, her feet slightly apart, her coat folded over her arms like a barrier between them. "I'm just ready to leave. I've been here much longer than I planned on."
Indecision was something he didn't feel very often. Princes were decisive. They knew what they were doing at all times. They were in control at all times. And more importantly, if they played the game correctly they were able to control the actions of all others around them. These rules had been drilled into him since birth. He knew them well and he followed them even without being aware of it.
But at the moment his head was throbbing where a box had hit it, and there were various other aches and pains on his body due to his misadventures in the storeroom. And he was facing his best friend who was griping her coat like a lifeline and watching him with wary eyes, and was poised on the steps like she was ready to flee if he made the wrong move. Weary he gave into temptation, let down his guard and collapsed on the leather sofa. "If that's what you want to believe go ahead. I can't stop you. But we both know the truth. You're running just like you've been running from me for weeks now."
The slam was subtle, but it was there, and no matter how veiled it was no one liked to be called a coward. Taking one step then another she cautiously made her way down the steps until she was perched on the couch opposite him. "Why didn't you tell me it was you when I asked?"
Nikolas couldn't help but shift a bit sheepishly although he'd never admit it. "If you knew it was me you would have been out of that room before I'd said two words."
"So instead you decided to scare me to death."
"Please believe me when I say I sincerely regret that decision." Nikolas gingerly touched his forehead to check for blood. "I was surprised at how frightened you became."
"I thought you were," she stopped when she saw his curious expression. "You shouldn't have done it."
"I agree and I'm sorry." Nikolas' apology was sincere. "However I do appreciate the end result. You're sitting here speaking with me. After our discussion yesterday I wasn't sure if you would."
Uncomfortable Emily refused to meet his eyes, she went to fiddle with her ring, and then realized it was missing. "I think we've said it all."
Taking a chance Nikolas moved quickly until he was sitting closer to her on the coffee table. Her eyes widened in surprise but she didn't move away. "Do you realize I never sat on furniture that wasn't made for sitting before I met you?"
Caught off guard Emily smiled. "I'm not surprised. Antiques are notoriously uncomfortably especially those found in mausoleums you were raised in."
"Actually I think Mrs. Landsbury would have been horrified if I had dared do such a thing," Nikolas admitted with a sly grin.
He said her name with such fondness her smile remained. "You really care about her don't you?"
Instinctively he tried to deflect the personal question but then made himself relax and answer. "Mrs. Landsbury's always been there. No matter what house we stayed at she was a constant. If Stefan had to travel she remained, Alexis may have come and gone, but she stayed."
"In a sense she raised you along with Stefan." She said the words either he couldn't or wouldn't say. "You might have had various nannies or tutors, but Mrs. Landsbury was your constant. I bet you miss her now that you live in town."
"I do," he admitted. "I thought about asking her to join me but the cottage is small even for Gia and I."
The quiet easygoing intimacy of the last few minutes vanished along with his careless slip of the tongue. Emily withdrew emotionally, then physically and that unfamiliar sense of indecision struck him and he watched her slip away. "I don't mean to hurt you."
"I know. That's why it hurts even more." Emily stood, countering Nikolas stood as well and the space between them narrowed considerably. She wanted to step back and get some breathing room but was blocked by the couch.
"I hurt you a lot don't I?" He really didn't want to know the answer but felt compelled to ask. When she tried to look away he touched her face and drew her eyes to him.
"Yes."
Her whispered admission almost broke his heart. "I don't mean…"
"I don't want to hear it," she cut him off breaking contact with him entirely she moved away. "Can't you see this is why I want to get away from you?"
"What good will that do?" All Nikolas knew was whenever she talked about walking away he got a knot in his stomach and he didn't want it to happen. "I'll still be here when you come back."
"You won't leave me with anything will you?" Emily's lament was directed more at herself then him. Smothering a groan in her hands she suddenly realized she had neglected to put on the bracelets and decorative rings she always wore. The realization she didn't have her jewelry on made her feel like she was stripped bare, like she had ventured into battle without any armament and was now paying the price for it. She felt naked, vulnerable, and alone and she was so tired of it. And now there was Nikolas. Pushing like he always did. Pushing for information that once said aloud would leave her even more alone.
"Emily?" He lightly touched her shoulder and the touch seemed to ignite a reaction. She turned to face him, her brown eyes held a shimmer of tears, but more then that there was a mixture of helplessness and desperation in them.
"You want the truth? Fine I'll give it to you. I need time away from you so I can rebuild my defenses. Once they're in place I'll be able to be around you again. I'll be able to be just your best friend and be content with that," she explained. "But right now I'm not there. You see at some point you shifted from being my best friend to being someone I wanted more from."
Emily ran a disgusted hand through her hair. "That's what you do Nikolas, it's what you always do. Or I should say it's what I always do to you. You see I guess I never got over my long ago crush on you. Because every now and then it flares up and I'm that stupid 15 year old girl with a raging crush on a guy who doesn't even know I exist," she laughed bitterly at the memory. "Only now it's worse. It's worse because you do know me, and I'm slotted in the role of best friend so I have to straddle that line of being your best friend and at times wanting more."
She could see the surprised expression on his face but couldn't stop the words. "Other times when this happened I got smacked in the face with reality walking in on you and Katherine rings a bell. But this time its different. This time you keep pushing me, you keep pressing me, you won't leave me alone, you keep touching me, hell you even me kissed me, and I have to find a way to deal with that. I need to take a step back from you and our friendship. In fact we may need to make the step permanent. By now I think it's pretty obvious that there's always going to be a part of me that wants more from you. And that means I'm always going to be hurt either consciously or subconsciously because you don't want the same."
By the time she'd finished ripping her heart out and exposing it to him she was breathing hard and it was the only sound in the room. She could tell by his expression that she'd taken him by surprise, so be it she'd taken herself by surprise as well. Maybe it was good he knew everything. As embarrassing as it was at least now he should be caring enough for her feelings to leave her alone.
"I don't know what to say, or how to respond," Nikolas managed finally.
"You don't have to say anything, in fact I don't want you to. You wanted to know why I wanted time away from you, and now you do," Emily stepped around him to pick up her forgotten coat.
"I do care for you."
Taking a breath she looked at the ceiling and prayed she could get through this. She knew she could if he would only be quiet. "I never said you didn't."
When she turned for the door he quickly stepped in front of her barring her path. She'd been brutally honest with him wasn't it time for him to be the same? He took her arms. "I said I care for you."
"I heard you," she tugged but he didn't let her arms go.
"You don't understand," he explained in the face of her irritation. "I care for you as more than a friend."
Surprised Emily stopped trying to pull free and stared at him in shock. "What does that mean?"
"I don't know," he answered honestly. "I just know I don't think you as just my best friend. I think of you in different ways. Ways I shouldn't, ways that keep me up nights."
"Really?"
"Yes," letting go of her arms he touched her face. "I thought about kissing you long before I actually did."
"You did?" The question came out on a shaky breath.
Nodding he softly touched her bottom lip. "I wondered what your lips would feel like against mine. I wondered how you would taste, if you were sweet or sinful. I wondered how much of an impact you'd have on me."
"Nikolas," she whispered.
"Then I finally kissed you. The wait was over and I knew the instant our lips met it wouldn't be enough. One kiss wasn't going to be enough," he leaned closer.
The memory of their last kiss and aftermath raced through her mind and Emily pulled back avoiding the kiss. "What about Gia?"
"What?" He blinked in surprise.
"Do you love Gia?" She demanded an answer even if the answer had the power to break her heart.
"Yes," his reply was automatic.
Stung Emily ran for the door. Catching her at the top of the stairs he spun her around. Incredibly hurt and furious with herself for getting sucked back in she struggled to break free. The struggle was lopsided and doomed from the minute it began. Nikolas soon had her arms pinned behind her back, her body pressed against his for leverage not to mention safety.
"Emily."
Ignoring him Emily kept struggling. Fed-up and frustrated Nikolas reacted in a way his ancestors would've approved of and the basest way possible, he kissed her. Emily's struggles continued for a minute but soon she gave in and kissed him back.
Truck
"How do I get myself into these messes?" Rory moaned and waited … and waited … and waited, then glared at her companion. "That was your cue."
"Sorry I thought that was just another one of your general laments against the world at large." Francis replied. Her less then kind response was blocked by his actions of parking the truck then getting out to open her door.
"We're really going to have to work on your flip attitude Mr. Francis," she grumbled, zipped up her new boot and slid out of the truck.
"I'm just trying to keep up."
Rory thought about it but decided not to waste a glare. She'd get him back later on. For now she took his arm and headed for the former restaurant that now housed a recording studio and clothing design building. What strangeness this town offered never ceased to surprise her. "Do you think I made a mistake by agreeing to take the test?"
"I don't know," he shrugged. Feeling her eyes on him he went on. "I doubt any test will convince Lucky. But if there are any doubts in anybody else's minds this should eradicate them."
"I know. That's the main reason I agreed to do it, well that and the whole blood stealing thing," she shuddered."
The idea of the blood theft didn't sit to well with him either.
"Let's meet Emily and get out of here." She was tired of thinking about Lucky Spencer and since she had yet to tell Jason she wasn't exactly anticipating the evening at the moment. Shaking off the thought Rory pushed the door to the business open. The unexpected sight in the middle of the room drew her focus immediately and she quickly stepped back and softly closed the door. "I think Emily's busy at the moment. Let's move on."
Curious but unwilling to show it Francis merely nodded and turned to leave. He tensed when he spied a figure moving towards them out of the dark of the night. Shifting until he blocked Rory from view, he appeared relaxed but knew he could have his gun in his hand in seconds if he needed to.
"Wait," Rory had spotted something familiar about the approaching silhouette. Squinting in the dark she recognized the newcomer and almost groaned. "Gia," she shouted the name. "That is your name isn't it? Gia?" Again she stressed the name. "Look Francis its Gia."
Francis nodded at her and this time couldn't hide the questioning expression.
"Why are you yelling when I'm standing right here?" Gia demanded from a few feet away.
"Was I yelling Gia?" Again she pronounced the name loudly. "I'm sorry it just with Mr. Francis here I get so used to speaking up I forget I'm doing it when I'm around others."
"Why do you yell around him?" Gia arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow in his direction.
"Ever since the incident he doesn't hear so good," Rory leaned closer. "We don't really discuss the incident."
Curious Gia shifted to study the tall brown-haired man in the suit.
"Bomb aftermath, it's a bitch." Francis informed her with a straight face and Gia quickly turned away.
Rory bit the inside of her lip to keep from laughing at Francis' unexpected help. "I don't think anyone's here. The door won't open so it must be locked." She demonstrated and hoped it would be enough to convince the girl to leave.
"That's because you're pulling on the door," Gia pronounced haughtily and moved past Rory. "It opens inward," she demonstrated with a slight sneer.
Rory made a face at Francis who nodded in agreement then followed the diva inside. Either her annoying loudness had worked or they had decided to come up for air. Whatever the reason Emily and Nikolas were now in different parts of the room and there was no sign they had just been involved in a kiss.
"Nikolas," Gia's greeting was warmer then it would've been if she hadn't had an audience. Crossing to him she gave him a kiss designed to show ownership.
"Tell Ned I'll finish another time." Emily's voice was husky and she refused to meet his eye or even look in his direction, instead she focused on Rory. "Ready?"
"Truck's outside." Rory was willing to provide the escape hatch. Emily quickly headed past her and because Emily was a friend Rory took the time to catch Nikolas' eye and give him a malevolent glare of warning before following her out the door.
Gia's catbird smile lasted until the door slammed. As soon as it did she dropped her arms and stepped away from him. "You didn't come home last night."
"I didn't think you wanted to see me." Nikolas was surprised at her behavior instead of attacking him she had her arms crossed over her chest and just looked at him. "I stayed at Wyndamere."
"You didn't have to do that." Feeling nervous she tugged on the end of one of her braids. It was a habit she was desperately trying to break. But one she still indulged in at times when she was extremely nervous or worried. "The cottage is where you live, where we live. It's our home. You should never feel unwelcome there."
Hearing the pain in her voice she was trying so desperately to hide Nikolas couldn't help feeling drawn to her and her pain. He also couldn't help feeling guilty for kissing Emily not once, but twice, and wanting to kiss her again. Gia had done nothing wrong, she didn't deserved to be betrayed like this.
"Nikolas?"
"You were angry with me when I said I wouldn't accompany you to Europe. You wouldn't speak to me, you threw things me at me, and the few times you did decide to talk to me you tried to pick a fight. I just wanted a night of peace for both of us."
"Avoidance won't help Nikolas," she huffed and stepped away.
"That's exactly my point," Nikolas decided to try to explain things again while she was being reasonable.
"What do you mean?" Pouting she crossed her arms over her chest and waited.
"You told me the main reason you wanted me to go on this trip was so we could work on our relationship."
"It is," stepping closer Gia touched his chest. "We need to reconnect, rebuild and we can't do that here. This trip will be great for our relationship."
"What point is it if we reconnect away from Port Charles?" Nikolas asked. "Sooner or later we'll return here, we live here remember. Why work on our relationship somewhere else?"
"Do you even want to work on our relationship?" Perceptive Gia pushed to the heart of the matter.
"Yes." His reply was automatic as his earlier statement of love in response to Emily's question had been. It was so automatic he had to wonder if he really meant what he was saying or if he was saying what he felt he was supposed to say. The idea wasn't a comforting one and even though it had a ring of truth to it he instinctively denied it.
Relieved Gia let out the breath she was holding in a rush. She'd been terrified she was losing Nikolas and that thought had hurt her terribly. She loved Nikolas with everything she had. In fact he was the only man she'd ever loved. She had no intention of losing him now, especially not without one hell of a fight.
Quartermaine's
"I'll be back in a few minutes." Rory shut the truck door and followed Emily to the side of the house. Her steps dawdled as the house caught her attention. It seemed to loom up out of the night and even in the darkness she could feel its presence lurking there almost taunting her. The house was mammoth and she had a command performance in it scheduled for Thursday at 1:00. The thought made her stomach lurch so she decided to focus on other things. "How are you doing?"
Emily shrugged. "Okay I guess. I'm relieved my mom's willing to get tested but I won't be able to breathe until we get the results."
"Jason feels the same way."
"I know." Emily agreed. She was still surprised at how both of her brothers had come together to help with mom yesterday. AJ had told her what had happened after she'd left and she'd been relieved they were able to look past their differences to speak up and help.
Rory studied Emily in the dim light of the patio trying to gauge her receptiveness to the next question. "I wanted to ask you about Zander. Have you seen him since … since you found out what happened?" She phrased the question as delicately as she could.
"He came around at first," she admitted. "I had to call in a favor from Sonny who pointed out to Zander that he might want to find a new place to live in another city. He even had someone give him a ride to the airport."
"I knew there was some reason I liked that guy," Rory joked.
"I just hope he stays gone." Emily muttered under her breath.
For Emily's sake Rory agreed but there was a part of her that wanted the ass to return just so she could get her hands on him. But that was a purely selfish wish on her part. "If he does make the mistake of returning you need to tell someone, either me, Sonny or Jason. Most especially Jason."
"Jason is the one person I won't tell," Emily insisted. "I don't want him to know what Zander did and what he tried to do."
"He won't judge you Emily."
"I don't care." Emily cried. "I don't want him to know. I don't want anyone to know how stupid I was for trusting him as long as I did. If Zander comes back I'll find a way to deal with it."
"Remember our conversation you weren't stupid," Rory snapped and waited for Emily to nod. "If that's the way you want it that's the way we'll play it. If the idiot comes back to town we'll handle him ourselves."
A ghost of a smile crossed Emily's lips. "If he only knew."
"He's too stupid to be terrified of mere women," Rory hesitated then decided it was time to change the subject. "You ready to talk about Nikolas?" She barely got the question out before Emily was up and pacing.
"There's nothing to talk about, were just friends."
"Right," Rory played along. "I always French kiss my friends. That's why my best friend is a guy named Harry."
"What?"
"Next time you decide to engage in some necking in a place of business you might want to lock the door," Rory played her ace and say Emily flinch.
"You saw that?"
"You don't really think Francis has a hearing problem do you?"
Emily couldn't help but laugh. It seemed no matter what was going on Rory could make her laugh. "Thanks for the warning. You averted what could've been an awkward situation."
"That's what friends are for," Rory waved off the gratitude to get to the meat of the matter. "Now about you and Nikolas."
"There is no me and Nikolas," she corrected mournfully.
"There is from where I was standing," Rory stated the obvious.
"No there isn't, not really." Too numb to be bitter Emily wrapped her arms around her stomach. "He's developed an attraction to me that much is true. But he just considers me his friend. He still loves Gia."
"Well shit." Rory snapped in disgust. "What is it with men lately? Did they all take a stupid pill or something?" Realizing she wasn't helping she focused on Emily. "Sorry."
"Don't say that please." One thing she couldn't stand was pity. "I better get inside. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Okay, I gave you my new cell number right?"
"Yes."
Emily gave her a hug in farewell then hurried inside through the patio door. The instant the door opened the sound of raised voices spilled out into the night. Apparently even the rich liked to have knock down drag out fights. For some reason that thought cheered Rory and she began humming off-key as she hurried to join Francis.
Port Charles Grille
"You okay about being here?"
There were too many people in the room. And some of their voices, especially the women's were shrill and carried throughout the restaurant in a way that no one liked. The clattering glasses and play of silverware were muted by the conversation, but the undertone remained. It was an uncomfortable room. One he wouldn't like to spend much time in, but since he had yet to spy a Quartermaine it was tolerable.
"Jason?" Sonny prompted.
"It's okay." Feeling Sonny's eyes on him he went on. "Did you forget all the times I stuck it out at the Outback?"
"Under Mac's glaring eye." Sonny laughed at the memory. "If we see a Quartermaine we'll leave and catch Alexis tomorrow."
"Fine with me." Jason wasn't about to argue. He was ready to sign the papers and meet Rory.
"You'll see her soon enough."
"Who?"
"Rory." Sonny's tone was patient if mocking. "You'll see her soon enough."
Tired of the subtle digs Jason struck back. "What happened with you and Carly?"
Smile fading Sonny's gaze shifted. "Nothing happened."
Jason's look was eloquent and said more than a dozen words could.
"Drop it." Sonny ordered.
Shrugging Jason shifted to observe the room.
Sonny withdrew into his thoughts. Throughout the day whenever he'd let his guard down he'd flashed on Carly's face before she'd disappeared upstairs. The look in her eyes was one he hadn't seen before and her brown eyes had haunted him. They'd fought before, hell who was he kidding they fought a lot. But this morning had been different and it was more then just her different confrontational style.
Carly's normal style was attacking, abrasive, in your face, but this morning she'd been quiet, the fire in her eyes tempered and somehow that made her words all that more deadly. Again hurting her was something he'd done on more than one occasion but the look on her face convinced him that this time the hurt was old and it had been ripped open and scarred over repeatedly.
Was her claim true? Did her perceived lack of trust on his part cause her to do the crazy things that infuriated him? He wanted to pass the words off as Carly's attempt to blame him for her stunts but the longer he thought about it the more he realized she believed what she said. More importantly he was coming to believe it as well. In the past he'd told her repeatedly he didn't trust her, could he blame her for not believing he did now, especially if he didn't tell her? And if a person didn't feel secure wouldn't they do crazy things?
"Hiya handsome."
Pulled from his thoughts by the woman in question he blinked and focused on his wife in time to see her kiss an unwilling Jason's cheek and take the seat between them.
"Carly." Jason's greeting was more subdued and he jerked away to wipe the lipstick off she'd just deposited on him when she tried to do for him. He couldn't help but notice she hadn't even glanced in Sonny's direction while Sonny had seemingly withdrawn even further. Leaning back in his chair, sipping his coffee, merely watching her with no expression on his face.
It didn't take Jason long to realize that the shrinking table was the last place in the world he wanted to be. Thankfully his cell chose that moment to ring. "Morgan," he paused, glanced at his watch then stood. "I can do that. I'll see you." Jason's phone call was brief but decisive. "I need to go." He jerked his coat from the back of the chair and slipped it on. "Tell Alexis I'll come back and sign those papers or I'll drop by tomorrow."
"Is everything okay?"
"Yeah." Jason didn't offer an explanation and ignoring the desperate plea in Carly's dark eyes he turned and left.
"Looks like it's just you and me," Sonny offered softly.
"You're right." Looking at him for the first time she pierced him with a glare. "At least until a woman you trust. Your attorney Alexis arrives."
Docks
Night was full on Port Charles, so was the first vestiges of spring. Although the night itself was cool a person could stand comfortably on the docks and watch the water without fear of freezing. This time of night was always his favorite. The boats had returned from their daily exploits and the water had stilled from their passing. The warehouses along the shoreline were shut down except for those few that were running a night shift. And even that was okay because the light spilling through the small windows or doors was a warm soft amber that added to the ambiance instead of a bright fluorescent.
The rest of the lights came from muted street lamps, or the lights tricking out of the windows of the buildings that mirrored the waterfront. The view from the water would offer an additional view of the lights coming from the taller city buildings that were looming dark shapes and twinkling lights behind the smaller buildings of the waterfront. This time of night was perfect because the docks were quiet, the dockworkers had long since gone home and it was too early for the drunks or other late night denizens to come out and claim the darker spaces of the docks.
This was the time Nikolas Cassadine liked best. He always had ever since moving to town years earlier. Tonight however he didn't feel the normal appreciation for the beauty of the night as he stood on the docks and watched the water. He was too busy reflecting on the trouble he found himself in. He was in the unenviable position that no matter what he did he was going to hurt one if not both women he cared very much for. Searching the sky he couldn't help but wonder where he'd gone wrong. He was supposed to be in control of his emotions, in control of his surroundings. It's what he'd been taught since birth. Own the situation don't let the situation own you. It was time to take action. Resolute Nikolas pulled the cell from his pocket, dialed a number from memory and listened until a cheery but recorded voice came through the other end. "Emily its Nikolas. We need to discuss what happened today, what's been happening. You can't keep running away from me. Please call me."
"What the hell is going on between you and Emily?"
Lucky's voice was loud and carried over the docks to the stairs that led to Waters Street, stalling Gia in her tracks as she paused to listen to her boyfriends response.
Jake's
"If Jason's here you can take off and take care of that little matter we discussed." As usual Rory was talking and as usual Francis was nodding without talking. "Give me a minute."
The music was already amped up even though the night was young and Rory moved from the doorway and pulled her new cell out then had to dig for her phone book. The sooner she figured out how to program her new phone the easier her life would be. Losing her phone was yet another reason to curse her misadventure over the cliff. Finding the number she needed she dialed it and wasn't surprised when a machine picked up. "Uncle Gabe you there? Yo Clyde?" She paused. "I just wanted to give you my new phone number. I lost my phone and in case you needed anything like money and needed to contact…"
"Hello."
"Clyde good to hear your voice." Rory smiled at her uncle's predictability.
"I just walked through the door and heard your dulcet tones coming through the machine. I raced right over," Gabe reached for another potato chip and shifted on the couch. "You said something about a new phone number?"
Knowing he'd never change and loving him for it Rory rattled off her new number then stepped out of the way of a staggering couple who just left the bar. "How's tricks."
"Not bad. I have a line on a real live one. If things work out she could be my ticket out of this life." Gabe bragged the frowned when he recalled he was mad at her. "You shouldn't have done that to me Bonnie."
"Done what?"
"Send my money to that woman," he shuddered. "I have to go over there every day and look at her photo albums in order to get my money. She has 13 photo albums of cats. Cats. Do you know how twisted that is?"
Rory's laughter caused her uncle to curse. "At least you still have a place to live."
"That's cold Bonnie, really cold," Gabe grumbled but knew he could do nothing about it. "How'd you lose your phone?"
"I lost it when I went over the cliff," Rory replied breezily.
"What?"
"Thankfully I'm out of the sling and done with physical therapy. Although it should be my therapist that's thankful, one more session and I'd have introduced him to my version of the rack," she heard him sputter on the other end and grinned. "Let's see, what else has been going on?"
"Rory."
"I'm living in a penthouse that has a second floor that's bigger then our apartment in Jersey City, I have a bodyguard named Mr. Francis, who doesn't know quite what to make of me. I'm having a DNA test to prove who I am, I got a job, and am invited to high tea on Thursday. I think that's all for now." Spying Jason's bike and knowing it would drive her uncle insane she decided to end the call. "Gotta go, talk to you soon."
"Rory!" Gabe tried but all he heard was a dial tone. Did she really say a DNA test? If she did she didn't know the trouble she was opening herself up for, the trouble she was opening him up for. "They would have contacted me if it were true." He muttered and yet he headed to the old fireplace and reached up inside the chimney and pulled one of his last remaining Cuban cigars from his hidden stash. This could get really ugly.
Jake's
"Hey." Smiling Rory palmed Jason's beer and took a long drink before kissing him in greeting. Setting the beer down she waved at Francis before taking her seat.
Jason studied her face. "You're in a good mood."
"I just vexed Uncle Gabe. That always puts me in a good mood."
"That isn't hard to do."
"Ha-ha." Rory focused on the bowl of peanuts, drew it closer to inspect it carefully then shoved it away she wasn't that hungry, yet. "I might vex you before the night is out."
"Possibly." Well used to reading people especially her Jason noted the way her hands had decided to trace the scars on the old wooden table. "What's going on?"
Rory's fingers stopped their dance over the table. He knew Damn'it, somehow he always knew. "I did something you might not like."
Hooking his boot under the bottom rung of her chair he jerked it forward until she was flush against the table then brought his own chair closer. Moving the empty beer bottle to the side he rested his elbows on the table and waited for her to continue.
There were times Rory hated the way he gave his undivided attention to whoever he was talking to. This was definitely one of those times. Averting her eyes she focused on the players at the pool table. He didn't speak, didn't try to prompt her, or pull the words from her when she wasn't ready, he merely sat there waiting for her to find the words on her own. He'd sit there patiently watching and waiting much like a panther would before they struck. He was infinitely patient and because of that she couldn't help but speak quicker then she'd planned on, even if the words were different then she'd thought.
"Did you know you have a complete sterling silver tea set in your penthouse?"
"I'm not surprised." Used to her tactics Jason's reply was immediate.
"You're not?"
"Carly was the one who originally decorated my place. She's really into status. She bought a lot of antiques and stuff I would never use because it was a symbol. I bet she stocked the place with everything she thought a rich person would have," his explanation was brief but accurate.
"That makes sense."
"What brought this up?"
"This guy named Reginald found it in our kitchen and it surprised me," Rory explained.
"Reginald was there?"
"Yeah, him and your grandmother stopped by," Rory began to trace designs on the table again.
Picking up on her nerves he covered her hands. "What did she want?"
Suddenly angry her head shot up and her eyes pierced him. "It's all Carly's fault. She tricked me."
"Carly?"
"Yes Carly and that rat bastard Reginald if they hadn't gotten me so off balanced everything would've been okay," she complained.
Contrary to how Taggert and some others in the business world saw him he was not anger boy, a person who lashed out for no reason. In fact he had quite a lot of patience, in his line of work he had to. But that didn't mean his patience didn't get tested at times especially when Rory was involved. In fact Rory seemed able to test his patience in a way no other ever could. The petite, muttering, ball of nerves could drive him crazy and take his patience without even trying and that was a bit humbling to admit.
"I really have to find an extra special way to pay Carly back." Rory stopped when Jason tugged on her hands until she looked at him.
"What are you talking about?" He asked with the last of his patience.
"Your grandmother showed up a few minutes after you left, ten minutes earlier and it would have been one hell of a sticky situation." Rory couldn't stop an unfamiliar blush from crossing her cheeks.
"She didn't." Jason didn't concern himself with what might have been.
"Anyway she invited us to lunch on Thursday. She said Edward would be out at a Chamber of Commerce meeting. I didn't want to say anything until I spoke with you but Carly tricked me into accepting her invitation. So we're having lunch with her at 1:00. And you can't be mad because you accepted for me without talking to me the day of my accident."
Instead of her nerves fading after she'd made her announcement she remained wound up and that was unusual. Usually after she let out a large amount of information in a rush like that she relaxed but not this time. "I can make lunch."
"Of course you can," she grumbled.
"Can I get you something? Another beer handsome?" A petite strawberry blonde in a jean miniskirt and baby blue tube top who was eyeing Jason like he was the last piece of chocolate cake, took great pleasure in interrupting the conversation.
"Two longnecks." Rory didn't even bother to fake good humor. "Do you need me to spell it for you?" She asked when the waitress lingered another minute trying to get noticed.
Used to this particular mood and behavior Jason widely hid a smile and kept his gaze on Rory when the waitress stomped off.
"Do you want to go to lunch?"
Jason's question was soft enough she had to lean towards him to hear. "Its not that, its …." she trailed off and began picking at the label of his empty beer bottle.
A loud shout and cheers erupted from the pool table so Jason shifted his chair until he was beside her. "Every time I mention my grandmother you tense up. Why do you do that?"
"I don't." Rory denied but couldn't meet his eyes instead she kept picking at the label and soon was treated to another thought. "I bet ladies don't even drink beer."
The waitress approached with their drinks. And perhaps it was the martial light she saw in Rory's eye. Whatever the reason she abandoned her plan to spill Rory's drink on her and instead slammed it on the table and disappeared.
"What did you say about ladies?"
Rory jolted when she realized she'd muttered aloud. "Nothing."
"Why do you care whether ladies drink or not?" Jason pressed and when Rory's fidgeting increased he knew he was getting close to the problem.
"Because," shrugging she sipped her beer.
Jason took her chin to make her look at him. "Because?"
"Lila Quartermaine is a lady." Rory admitted finally.
"I guess so." Jason had never considered it, to him she was just his grandmother but the term definitely fit her.
"And I'm about as far from a lady as a person could get," she summed up by taking a long pull from her beer.
"Is that supposed to mean something to me?" Jason asked. "I don't know what or who says what a lady is and I don't care. The only thing I know is you're the lady in my life and I want you to get to know my grandmother."
Melting inside Rory tried to hang on to her unease but it was impossible and the nerves faded for the moment. "You don't fight fair," leaning forward she rested her head on his shoulder.
"I didn't know we were fighting. If its okay with you I'd rather save the fight until after we eat. I missed breakfast."
Laughing Rory sat back and punched his arm. "In that case," she drawled and traced a design on the back of his hand with her finger. "I suppose I should share my other news."
"What's that?" With his free hand he reached for his beer.
"I told Lucky Spencer I'd take a DNA test." She waited for him to take a sip before dropping the bomb.
Port Charles Hotel
Darkness was something he'd always considered to be his friend and most useful weapon. In his line of work he'd learned to embrace and use the darkness to his advantage. His eyes seemed to adjust much quicker, he could anticipate furniture placement, and only needed to see a blueprint once to know it cold. Another thing he discovered was that people seemed to be afraid of the dark. Even in the so-called safety and familiarity of their own home they would shy away from the darkness. If they heard a noise the first thing a person did was turn on a light to chase the dark away. What they failed to realize was that it also gave their position away.
Given the fact it was after hours and the office was closed. Marin had decided to risk a small flashlight. The office was high enough and the windows were tinted that the small beam shouldn't be seen through the window. Besides the nearest building of this height was several hundred yards away. So as long as he muffled it when he was in the main room so no one in the hall could see it, he should be able to complete his work undetected. Professional that he was he made quick work of placing the bugs in the back office, before turning his focus towards the immaculate front room. Closing the door quietly he headed for his kit that was spread out on the desk and retrieved what he needed.
"Alexis are you here?" Jax opened the door and light from the hall spilled inside the dark room. It was hard to tell who was more surprised. The tall blonde in the doorway or the man crouching by the desk with a tool gripped like a weapon in his hand.