Author's note: This is one of the first multi-chaptered stories I've written where I actually have a problem keeping the chapters SHORT enough. And btw, I've planned out the entire story, which means that yes, I do know who Sam's going to end up with, and no, I'm not going to tell you. For the JaSam fans, you've got a lot of things in this chapter, for the Lucky fans, (if there are any at this point) don't worry, he'll be in the next chapter. Enjoy!
Sam was rapidly coming to a conclusion.
The second trimester of pregnancy sucked.
Oh, sure, the morning sickness was fading away. And God, was she thankful for that. But then, her clothes weren't fitting anymore. After the third day of showing up at work in a sweatsuit, Lois, BrookLynn, Georgie, and Sage had insisted on dragging her to all the maternity clothing stores in town to get clothes that would actually fit. (Of course, Jason footed the bill.)
"C'mon, Sam, come on out!" Lois called outside the dressing room.
Sam pushed aside the curtain. "How does it look?" she asked, pulling at the hem of the dress.
"Great!"
"You look fantastic!"
"You need to wear that shade of green more often, Sam. It really brings out the green in your eyes."
"It's great, except--isn't the neckline a little too low?"
"Oh, come on, Georgie. Just because she's pregnant doesn't mean she has to dress like a nun."
Twittering, the four women swarmed around Sam, pulling at the sleeves, fussing with the neckline. "What do you think, Sam?" Lois asked. "Bet Jason'll love you in it."
Sam snorted. "Jason wouldn't notice if I walked into the room wearing a potato sack."
Lois raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.
"Hey, can we go buy some CDs next?" Sage Alcazar asked. "I really want to get that album by Jem."
BrookLynn stared at the other girl. "You like Jem?"
Sage rolled her eyes. "You know, I'm not a total ditz. I have good taste in music..."
As the girls argued, Lois turned to Sam. "Trouble in mob paradise?" she asked quietly.
"You could say that," Sam admitted.
Lois and Sam were drinking smoothies while they waited for the teens to finish their shopping. "You're in your fourth month now, right?" the older woman asked.
Sam nodded as she drank out of her straw. "Yup."
"So, you're past the horrible nausea stage and onto the horny stage."
Sam nearly choked. "Lois!"
"What? It's the truth, ain't it?" She took a sip of her drink, all the while looking at Sam speculatively. "I take it there isn't much activity in the bedroom these days?"
Sam considered lying, but knew Lois wouldn't buy it for a minute. "Try no activity. My relationship with Jason doesn't work like that. The only thing tying us together is this child."
"Oh, I'm sure that's not--"
"Trust me, it's true." She sighed. "It's just--frustrating. Aside from the hormones, I've been living with Jason for over a month now, and I understand him as little as I did the first night we met. I'm not saying I want him to be in love with me, because that's not what I want. I just...I don't know." She forced a smile. "Thank God for vibrators, right?"
Lois looked like she was about to say something, but right then, BrookLynn, Georgie, and Sage came up to them, and they had to go.
Jason stared, open-mouthed, at the bodyguards lugging in Sam's shopping bags. "How did you possibly buy all this in a few hours?"
Sam shrugged. "It was pretty easy, actually. Especially when I was surrounded by four shopaholics. And I picked up a few things, you know, for the baby. Unisex colors, don't worry."
"What, like green and yellow?"
"Actually," Sam said, "I heard green is supposed to be the new pink."
Jason just blinked. "What?" Sam opened her mouth to elaborate, and he shook his head, cutting her off. "Never mind, I don't want to know. Come on, we have to go."
Sam stared at him. "What for? Jason, I've spent hours on my feet."
"You have a checkup at the hospital, remember?" Jason reminded her.
"Oh, right. That. Crap."
"Oh...let's see..." Dr. Meadows murmered.
"What's wrong?" Sam asked, worried, craning her neck to get a better look at the ultrasound.
"Nothing's wrong, Sam. Your baby is in the perfect position to determine gender." The doctor looked at them. "Do you want to know?"
Sam looked at Jason. He smiled slightly and shrugged his shoulders. "It's up to you."
She beamed. "Okay, I'm dying to know. Tell me."
Dr. Meadows smiled at her. "Congratulations, you two. You're going to have a baby girl." She smiled at them, turned off the machine, and left.
"Let's celebrate," Jason said quietly.
Sam turned to him. "What?"
He shrugged. "Carly owns this place...it's under Kelly's. It's called the Cellar. Let's go there for dinner tonight."
"And what are we celebrating?" Sam asked, liking the idea of going out.
"Well, we're celebrating our healthy daughter, and the fact that you got a job."
Sam nodded. "Works for me."
"Wow," Sam said as she walked into the restaurant. "Carly owns this place? Nice."
"Yeah, she's pretty proud of it," Jason said as he pulled out Sam's chair and helped her get settled in.
"So, listen, I wanted to ask you...what should the baby's last name be?"
"Morgan," Jason said as if it were obvious.
Sam rolled her eyes. "And I suppose the name McCall isn't even an option, huh?"
Jason leaned back in his seat. "What, we're not even going to wait for the appetizers before we start arguing?"
"Is Morgan even your legal name?" Sam demanded. "Like, did you ever bother to have it changed from Quartermaine?"
From the look on Jason's face, it was clear that he hadn't, in fact, bothered to make it legal. "That's not the point, and don't try to turn this into some feminist thing--"
"Nice, Jason, really nice--"
Jason held up his hands in a 'stop' gesture. "Can we at least to order something first?"
Sam rolled her eyes again. "Fine. You win. We'll order. Then we'll argue."
"That's all I ask," Jason said, smirking at her.
Dinner was actually going pretty well, to Sam's surprise. Aside from the name debate, which had lasted all the way through the appetizers and halfway through the main course, the conversation was really...nice. Jason hadn't made any comments about Lucky Spencer. He listened to her stories about L&B and never once hinted that she should quit. In fact, Jason seemed happy that she was enjoying herself.
"Are you happy here?" he asked quietly, not looking at her as he speared a piece of his steak with his fork.
Sam was surprised by the question. "What?"
He looked up. "I know that I kind of...dragged you here against your will."
"Jason," she said gently, "I was the one who made the decision to--to trust you and to live with you. We decided to do this for the baby--"
"I know," he interrupted. "I know, but...you don't know anyone here. I mean, we're still getting to know each other, and God knows Carly hasn't made you feel all that welcome--"
"Yeah, no kidding," Sam said with a laugh. She had decided to give Carly a wide berth after the benefit, and apparently the other woman had come to the same conclusion. Which was a good thing, because with the hormones raging through Sam's system, there was no way she was going to be able to handle a confrontation calmly.
"And there was that whole thing with the Quartermaines at the benefit--" Jason continued.
"Now that was interesting," Sam said.
"It may have been interesting for you, but it was a nightmare for me," Jason insisted. "Anyway, I just--want to make sure that you're all right. I don't--I don't want you to be staying here just because you're obligated to."
Sam looked down. "That's kind of why I took the job at L&B's," she admitted. "I wasn't looking for a reason to stay, Jason, because I'm determined to make this work. I just--I was looking for reasons to want to stay, you know? I--I run when things get rough. I'm not proud of it, but that's just what I do. And I can't do that anymore, and I just--need to stop feeling the need to run away."
"You want to run?" Jason asked, his eyes filled with--could that be hurt?
Sam knew she had to be honest, though. "Sometimes, I do. When--when I'm lying alone in my bed and--and thinking about all the ways I could screw up, all the ways that this could go wrong. When--when I think too much about what you do for a living, and all the risks you take every day." Her throat was tight, and Sam had to look down, away from Jason's crystal blue eyes.
"How often do you feel like this?" he asked gently.
She knew the answer would hurt him even more. "Honestly?"
"Always."
"Almost every night."
He leaned back in his chair. "Oh."
Sam hurried to explain. "It's just that--everything's happened so fast, you know? And the idea of being a mom scares the hell out of me, Jason. But--but the feeling goes away eventually. After I think about how great you are with your nephew Michael, or--or I remember the look in your eyes when you heard the baby's heartbeat for the first time. You're really going to be good for this baby, Jason. I'm not sure of a lot of things, but that's one thing I'm not worried about at all."
Jason was silent for a very long moment, then laid his hand on top of hers, gently lacing their fingers together. Sam's mouth fell open slightly at the electricity from the moment their hands touched. Whoa. She hadn't realized he could still make her feel like that--
"You're going to be a great mother, Sam," Jason assured her quietly, locking his eyes onto hers. "And that's one thing that I'm sure of."
Sam smiled at him, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered, futilely dabbing at her eyes with her free hand. "Now, uh, what's good for dessert in this place?"
Jason smiled, letting her change the subject. "Well...the tiramisu is really great--" His eyes went to the bar behind Sam, and he stopped mid-sentence.
"Jason? Jason?"
He continued staring.
"Jason?" Sam was starting to get alarmed at this point. The look on Jason's normally unexpressive face was now somewhere between profound shock and unholy amusement.
He tore his eyes away from whatever was happening at the bar and turned to her. "Okay, Sam, you're never going to believe this...you know my cousin Dillon?"
"Yes..."
"Well--he's at the bar, in drag, and I think he's picking up this older guy."
Sam choked. "No. No way."
Jason pointed towards the bar. "Yes way."
Almost afraid to look, Sam turned--and Jason, to Sam's horror, was telling the truth.
Holy. Motherfucking. Shit.
Sam blinked hard, willing the scene to change into something that actually made sense, but when she opened her eyes, nothing had changed.
It was Dillon all right, wearing a long wig, and--and lip gloss, and dear God, he had on a skirt, and he had boobs, and how the hell was this happening? Dillon had a girlfriend for God's sake--oh, who was she kidding? She'd seen enough episodes of Queer as Folk to know that having a girlfriend did not automatically make a guy straight as an arrow. But this just didn't make any sense. Sam's gaydar was almost perfect, she would have known--
And just who the hell was that guy with Dillon, anyway? He looked so familiar--Sam squeaked as she realized just where she'd seen that guy before. At L&B's.
Simon. That was his name. Simon Something-Or-Other, a big-shot producer taking a look at BrookLynn. What the hell was he thinking, picking up a teenager? He was forty, at least!
"Sam? Say something." Jason's voice cut through Sam's fevered thoughts.
Sam twisted around in her chair. "There has got to be a logical explanation for that," she muttered.
Jason smirked. "I can think of a few, but they all come under the heading 'don't ask, don't tell'."
Sam had to do something. Ned had been kind enough to give her a job, and one of her unspoken duties was to look after the teens if necessary. "Screw the tiramisu, Jason. We have to go and get Dillon."
His eyes widened. "What? No way."
She couldn't believe it. "Jason!" Sam hissed. "He's your cousin."
"It's none of my business how Dillon wants to dress or if he wants to pick up a guy twice his age," Jason shot back.
"Jason Morgan, I swear to God--"
He sighed. "Fine. Fine. But for the record, you're doing all the talking."
"Fine," she agreed and stood up. Jason got out of his chair as well, and she marched over to the bar, Jason right on his heels. "Excuse me," she said loudly, "but what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Horrified, Sam saw that Simon's hand was--holy shit--on Dillon's knee.
Dillon twisted in the stool, and he turned paper-white upon seeing her. "Sam?" he quavered in a ridiculously high falsetto. He turned even paler upon seeing Jason. "Oh, shit."
"Excuse me, but who the hell are you?" Simon asked, his voice sounding as posh and British and unruffled as ever.
"Sam McCall," she said, her voice filled with steel as she planted her hands on her hips. "And you didn't answer my question. What. The. Fuck. Are. You. Doing?"
Jason stepped up to stand next to her, folding his arms. "You heard her. Answer."
Simon didn't look at all perturbed. Taking a sip of his drink, he said calmly, "I'm having a drink with my friend Astrid here."
Sam turned to Dillon, her eyes wide. "Astrid?" she mouthed. Dillon put his face in his hands. "Okay," Sam said, trying to keep her head from spinning. "Well, now you're not having a drink with--Astrid. Come on, let's go," she said, grabbing Dillon by the arm and dragging him off the stool. Dillon stumbled, clearly not used to walking on high heels.
"I had a lovely time," he said quickly, still talking in the falsetto. Sam dragged him off to a secluded corner of the restaurant, Jason following them, looking highly amused.
"Okay," she said, trying to remain calm. "Dillon, I'm not going to judge or anything like that, but what the hell is going on?"
Dillon looked frantic. "It's not what it looks like, I swear."
Jason made a soft snorting noise, and Sam glared at him. "Jason, not now."
He held up his hands. "I didn't say anything. Live and let live is my motto. I'm just here as an observer."
Dillon looked up at the ceiling. "Of all the relatives I could have run into...I had to run into the macho mob enforcer?" He turned to them. "Okay, this isn't a sexual identity crisis, I swear. It's--well, it's homework."
Sam and Jason gaped at him. "It's what?" Sam asked once she'd found her voice.
"Listen, have you ever read the book Black Like Me?"
Sam wanted to scream. "What does a novel have to do with you dressing up in drag?"
"Hear me out, please! The guy in the book, he painted himself up to look like he was black and went down to the South, you know, back in the days of segregation. Well, we're reading this in English, and my grade in that class sucks so bad, Sam, you have no idea--"
"And--and this is, what, extra credit?"
Dillon looked miserable. "Yeah."
Jason blinked and said, "Okay, your teacher is just--"
"Sadistic?" Dillon finished. "Yeah, I know. I wasn't even going to do it, but then these jerks, Lucas and Diego--they were such asses--started talking trash, like how I didn't have the guts to do it--"
"Well, it does take a real man to wear high heels," Sam muttered, then shook her head. "All right, all right. Dillon, I'm glad that you're—trying to improve your grades, but—"
"Picking up forty-year-old men is not the way to do it," Jason finished for her. "Personally, I don't care if you like guys, girls, or both, because that's none of my business. I don't even care that you're in drag. But that guy is way too old for you."
"I know he is!" Dillon wailed. "I—okay, I was at L&B's, wearing this," he gestured at his outfit, "and he just came up to me and started talking, and I was like, okay, then he asked me out!"
"And you said yes because..." Sam prodded.
Dillon looked miserable. "He—he kind of hinted that if I didn't say yes, he wasn't going to sign on BrookLynn, and L&B's needs the business, Sam, you know that."
Sam blinked. "I'm going to kill this guy."
"Sam—"
Jason looked amused. "Don't try to stop her, Dillon. Remember, hormones."
"But—"
"But nothing!" she snapped. "Does Ned know about this? Does Lois? Because let me tell you, Dillon, I know they want L&B's to succeed, but not like this!"
Dillon opened his mouth to respond, but then noticed Jason staring at him speculatively. "Dude, what?"
"I'm just trying to figure out if there's any way this producer guy really believes that you're a girl," Jason responded, then shook his head. "This is making my head hurt."
Sam gave Dillon the once-over. "No way in hell he doesn't know you're a guy," she decided. "Sorry, Dillon, but there's just no way you're fooling anyone. You're too beefy."
"Excuse me?" a very posh, very British male voice asked. Sam turned, gritting her teeth. Simon smirked at them. "Can I have my date back?"
Dillon hissed in Jason's ear, "Dude, please, I'm begging you, get me out of this!"
Jason turned to Sam. "I told you my family was crazy."
"Well, that was--unusual," Sam said as they walked towards the car. "Wow."
Jason shook his head. "Dillon in drag was an image I never needed in my head," he said. "Jesus Christ..."
Sam giggled. "The poor guy. Remind me not to torture him about this too much. Oh, and we've got to pick up some stuff for the nursery, now that we know the sex of the baby."
"Yeah."
Sam gave him a sideways glance. "You're--not disappointed, are you? I mean, we never discussed wheather you wanted a boy or a girl--"
"No, I like the idea of a little girl," he reassured her. "I have to warn you though, I don't know a lot about raising them."
Sam smiled at him. "Jason, I've seen you with Michael. You're great with him. And it's obvious that you love him. I think that's all you really need to know." Jason's relationship with Michael Corinthos was one of the things that had told Sam that she'd made the right choice to stay with him. "Hey, can we pick up—"
"We've already got cotton candy ice cream, we've got chocolate, and barbeque chips, and that weird mango juice you like so much. I had Max go and restock the fridge," Jason rattled off quickly.
Sam stared at him. "How did you know what I was going to ask?"
Jason pulled out his keys and turned off the car alarm. Then he opened up the passenger door for him. Sam grinned, because even if he was an enforcer for the mob, he had good manners. "Easy. I've been keeping track of your cravings. Have a list and everything of the stuff you ask for the most."
She blinked, and he smirked. "Oh," she said.
Sam was tossing and turning in her bed. Even though the apartment was air-conditioned, Sam felt like she was burning up. She futilely searched for a cool spot on her pillow, and finally gave up.
She tried counting sheep. She tried simply closing her eyes. But the last one wasn't such a good idea, because these...thoughts...would keep popping into her head.
Thoughts about Jason's rock-hard abs. Or his fingers lacing with her at dinner and the immediate burst of electricity that went through her entire body. How, during that one night they'd been together, she had kissed and licked and bit what seemed like every inch of his tanned skin.
And if she didn't think about Jason, she would just end up thinking dirty thoughts about someone else. Like Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Carribean. Brad Pitt in...well, Brad Pitt in any movie. Taye Diggs. That one cute busboy at Kelly's. Hell, even Lucky Spencer.
Lucky Spencer with that cleft in his chin and that impossibly handsome face...the guy was built too, she could tell that under those shirts was...
Oh, Jesus. Fantasizing about Jason was bad enough, but at least he'd knocked her up. In a weird way, she had a sort of right to fantasize, especially since they'd already slept together? But Lucky was just her friend. Her completely platonic friend with a gorgeous face and body, and hair that she'd just love to sink her fingers into...
"Ugh," she groaned.
Sam stayed up for a long time, but she did fall to sleep, eventually. But when she did, her sleep was haunted by vague, definitely erotic dreams that starred Jason, then Lucky, then Jason again, with the occasional appearance by Johnny Depp.
It was a Saturday, and Sam had the day off from L&B's. Which, quite frankly, was a good thing, as Sam wasn't in the mood to deal with BrookLynn's constant battles with her mother today. The latest one seemed to be something about Lorenzo Alcazar and how he was spending way too much time with Lois. The issue was especially heated, since he was Sage's uncle. Personally, Sam didn't think Brook had anything to worry about, since Lois and Lorenzo, when they were together, screamed 'platonic' in neon letters. But BrookLynn was seventeen, and stubborn, and Lois acted like she was seventeen, and she was just as stubborn as her daughter.
Needless to say, it wasn't a good combination.
Jason wasn't there. He was doing something for Sonny. He didn't offer specifics, and Sam didn't ask. She'd learned not to. It seemed like that was what was just done, and it did make things a lot easier.
The doorbell rang. Thinking it was the delivery man, Sam jumped up from the couch, opened the door--
--and found Monica Quartermaine waiting there. Shit. Shit, shit, shitty shit. "Hi," Sam said, her eyes wide.
Monica smiled graciously. "Hello, Sam. May I come in?"
Sam's eyes grew even wider. She hadn't seen Monica since the benefit, but the look of utter shock on the woman's face was hardly something she was going to forget. "Um, yeah, sure. Come on in." She stepped aside, trying to calm herself down.
Monica walked in, looking around. "Things are still mostly the same from the last time I was here," she remarked.
"Yeah...Dr. Quartermaine, if you're not looking for Jason, he's not here right now..."
"Good," the older woman said briskly. "That'll make this easier."
Sam's eyes grew huge. "Make what easier, exactly?"
"I wanted to talk to you, Sam. About the child you are carrying, which happens to be my grandchild."
Sam blinked. Oh. She really shouldn't have been so surprised, especially not after Alan Quartermaine's visit to her in the hospital. She opened her mouth, not knowing what would come out. "Granddaughter, actually." Monica looked surprised, and Sam elaborated. "I'm having a girl. Jason and I just found out."
"Oh," Monica said, giving her a smile. "Thank--thank you for telling me that."
"Well, you are her grandmother, so..." Sam shrugged.
"That's actually what I came here to talk about," Monica replied. "By now, you must be aware that Jason--doesn't get along all that well with his family. In fact, it's safe to say that he's completely disowned us." The pain the older woman felt at this was clearly evident in her voice, and Sam's heart went out to her. "And of course, we can't stand the fact that he works for the mob--"
"Well, I can't blame you there," Sam said. "I can barely wrap my head around it sometimes." In fact, she hadn't wrapped her head around it at all. She'd just stuck her head in the ground, not hearing, not seeing, and especially not thinking...
...and this wasn't the time to analyze this. Monica looked slightly surprised by Sam's statement, but plowed on. "Do--do you know about Jason's grandmother?"
"Not much, just that she died recently."
"Lila was--wonderful," Monica said softly. "She was the center of the Quartermaine family. Jason adored her, we all did. In fact, she was the only reason he ever bothered much with the rest of us."
"I'm sure that's not--" Sam protested.
"And now that she's gone," Monica continued, "it feels like--like we've lost Jason too. That's why--why I came here. To ask you if you would allow us to be a part of this child's life."
"Of course," Sam said without hesitation. "Yeah, absolutely."
Monica's face broke out into a large smile. "That's--thank you. I'm so relieved to hear that."
The doorbell rang again. Sam went to answer it, and it was Max, carrying a large parcel. "This came for you," he said.
"Ah, thanks, Max," Sam said. "Can you put it there?" Max leaned it against the wall and asked, 'You sure you don't need any help putting it together?"
"I think I can handle it," she reassured him. "Thanks, Max."
He nodded at them and left.
"What is that?" Monica asked.
"Crib for the nursery," Sam explained. "You--you know, if you don't have anywhere to be...maybe you'd want to--help me put it together?" The minute the words left her mouth, she was horrified at herself. What was she thinking? Monica Quartermaine was part of the weathiest family in town, plus she was a well-respected doctor, why on earth would she want to spend time putting together a crib with someone she barely knew? "Forget it, you probably have somewhere important to be--"
"No," Monica said, looking touched. "My shift at the hospital doesn't start until seven, and I have nowhere I need to be until then, so..."
"Oh," Sam said, pleased. "Okay, um...let me get a screwdriver then."
"I can never find anything in this place," Sam said in frustration, rooting through Jason's desk.
"So," Monica asked, looking around for a topic of conversation, "how are you getting along in Port Charles?"
Sam smiled. "Okay. It's--kind of nice, getting a chance to put down roots. Before, I'd been basically living out of suitcases my entire life."
"I can imagine," she responded. "And things are going well with Jason?"
"Yeah, for the most part," Sam said, then sighed. "I still can't get used to the bodyguards, or Jason running out of the apartment at all hours of the night--you know, the whole mob thing." She winced, looking stricken. 'Sorry, I--I probably shouldn't have said anything."
"It's all right," Monica assured her, even though there was nothing right about this situation. Jason shouldn't have been going out in the middle of nights to carry out assignments from Sonny Corinthos, he should be working at General Hospital, alongside his parents--
But he wasn't. "Well!" Monica said brightly, pushing away her dark thoughts as she realized that Sam had found the screwdriver at last. "We should probably get started on this crib...it's not going to put itself together, after all."
Monica stared at the directions in utter bewilderment. "This is ridiculous," she said at last in frustration. "I'm a surgeon for God's sake. There is simply no reason why I shouldn't be able to figure this damned thing out."
Sam looked at it over her shoulder. "Well, for one thing," she said gently, "I think you have the diagram upside down."
"Oh." She turned it right-side-up, and frowned. "Still doesn't make any sense."
Fifteen minutes later, they finally managed to make some progress. "Where does this little thing go?" Sam asked, holding up a screw.
Monica consulted the directions, which she was finally starting to get. "Over there."
As Sam grabbed the screwdriver, she asked, "Can you do me a favor?"
"What?" Monica asked.
Sam grinned. "Tell me everything there is to know about this town."
Monica laughed. "Sam, we'll be here for centuries if I try to do that."
"Oh, come on!" she pleaded. "I'm new here, and I don't know all the gossip."
Monica considered it. "Well..."
"This is the strangest town I've ever been in, ever," Sam declared at last. "And I've been in some pretty strange places, Monica." Somewhere in between talking about Monica's second marriage to Alan and the third crazy Cassadine plot, they'd gotten on a first-name basis. Sam continued, "I once went to a town where the mayor had eaten off one of his own legs. But this town has all of those other places beat for weird."
"Yeah, no kidding," Monica agreed.
Sam went on, bewildered. "People die and they come back to life all the time, a madman tries to freeze the world, people try to drop houses on people--"
"I've always thought it had something to with the water," Monica said serenely.
The two women looked at the finished crib triumphantly. "Looks good," Sam said, walking around it.
"Alan'll never believe I did this," Monica said. " I don't even believe it."
Sam grinned. "Just send him to me, I'll make sure he--" she stopped suddenly, looking down at her stomach. "Oh..."
"What is it?" Monica asked, immediately concerned.
Sam looked up, her face filled with awe. "The baby's kicking."
"What--"
"Here. Feel." Sam guided Monica's hand to where the baby was kicking regularly. "Can you feel that?"
"Yes," Monica said softly. "Yes. I feel it."
"Faith--she's getting cocky," Sonny said, shaking his head as he and Jason came outof the elevator. "I don't like it."
"Relax, Sonny. Now that Alcazar's gone legit, Faith's our only real competition," Jason assured him. "Hey, I want to go check on Sam--"
"All right, I'll come with you." Jason knew that Sonny was oddly fascinated by Sam somehow, and he didn't really like to think of why, because then his thoughts would eventually end up with the name Brenda Barrett, and Jason really didn't want to go there.
He found his keys after a moment of searching, put them in and turned the doorknob--
--to be presented with the sight of a baby crib, stryofoam and packaging strewn all over the floor, and Sam and his mother, Monica, standing in the middle of all this, Monica's hand on Sam's stomach.
Jason stared, completely bewildered. "What--what's all this?"
Sam turned towards him, her face lit up with excitement and joy in a way that he'd never seen before. "Jason, get over here! The baby's kicking!"
Holy shit. "Seriously?" Jason waded through the packaging and came over to her. "Where?"
"Here," Monica said, taking his hand and placing it on Sam's stomach, where her hand had been resting not a moment before. "Right there."
Jason waited, horribly impatient, and then--bam! "Whoa," he said in awe. "How long has this been going on?"
"The last five minutes or so," Sam told him.
The baby continued kicking, harder than ever. "I think we're raising a future kickboxer."
"Or the next Mia Hamm," she joked.
"Congratulations, you two," Sonny put in. Jason turned towards him. For a second, he'd forgotten that Sonny and Monica were in the room. There had been nothing but Sam and their little girl.
"Thanks," Sam said quietly.
Sonny looked at Monica. "Dr. Quartermaine."
"Sonny," Monica replied coolly.
Jason gestured with his free hand towards the crib. "What's this?"
He could swear he'd heard Sam's eyes rolling. "It's a crib, Jason."
"I know that, I mean--did you put this together?"
"Yeah," Sam said, "with your mom's help."
Jason's eyebrows went up. "You helped put this together?" he asked, turning to Monica
Monica quirked an eyebrow. "Don't sound so surprised, Jason. I can be pretty handy with a screwdriver."
Jason turned to Sam. "Okay, maybe we should test it out before the baby gets here. You know, we don' t want the crib collasping the first time we put the baby in it--" Sam whacked him on the arm.
"Nice, Jason."
Monica cleared her throat and looked at her watch. "I have to get back, my shift is going to start soon. It was nice to finally meet you properly, Sam. Jason, I hope I'll see you again soon." She paused. "Sonny."
"Always nice to run into you too, Dr. Quartermaine," Sonny called after her as she left the penthouse.
"Boy, she really doesn't like you, huh?" Sam commented. They both just looked at her, and she nodded. "Oh, this is one of those things that we just don't talk about, huh?"
"Yeah, pretty much," Jason said. He paused. "What was she doing here?"
Sam shrugged. "She just wanted to talk to me."
"About what?" Sonny asked.
Sam raised an eyebrow. "About the fact that I'm carrying her grandchild."
Jason sighed. He should have known this was going to happen eventually. "Sam, I really don't have much to do with the Quartermaines--"
She threw up her hands. "No. I'm not doing this."
"Sam, hold on--"
"No!" Sam looked irritated, the eariler joy in her face gone. "Jason, I like your mother, okay? She was nice and charming and really sweet to me--"
"To be fair, she does kind of have an agenda," Sonny pointed out.
Sam whirled on him. "No offense, Sonny, but if I wanted your opinion, I would ask for it." She turned back to Jason, dismissing Sonny. "Jason, I already told her she could be a part of this child's life, and I'm not going to go back on my word. She isn't asking for you to become a doctor. She's not asking for you to leave the mob. All she is asking for is the chance to know her granddaughter, and there is no way I am going to deny my child the opportunity to have a loving grandmother in her life."
Jason gritted his teeth. Sam was new to this town, she didn't understand the minefield that was his relationship with the Quartermaines, with his parents. He understood where Sam was coming from, and a part of him--a big part of him--agreed with her. "It's not that simple, Sam," he said quietly. "Sooner or later, the Quartermaines are going to push for more than I can give them."
"They aren't asking anything from you," Sam insisted. "They're asking something from me. Jason, you don't have to be involved in this at all. Look, I will handle the Quartermaines if that's what you want. But I see no reason to cut them out of my daughter's life."
Jason took several deep breaths. And he remembered his grandmother. His wonderful, awe-inspiring grandmother, whom he had hurt so many times. She would want this. She would have really wanted this. And if Sam could stand his family, if she could get along with his mother--and it was so clear that she wanted this for their baby. And, really, even if he did say no, would it work? Sam had her own mind, that was crystal clear by this point, and there was a really good chance that she would just sneak around with the baby and take her to the Quartermaines anyway.
And that couldn't happen. He and Sam needed to build trust between them. He needed to be able to trust her fully, and vice versa, in order for this arrangement to work.
"Fine," he said at last. "Fine--my mother can be involved in the baby's life."
"You're serious?" Sam asked, and the light was back in her eyes.
"You can't be serious," Sonny said flatly. Sam gave him a look, and he threw up his hands. "All right, all right--it's none of my business."
"You're right, it isn't," Sam responded. "But I'm glad to hear you say that, Jason," she says, turning around to face him. She sighed. "I'd better start cleaning all this up," she muttered, kicking at a piece of bubble wrap.
"I gotta get back, you know, to my apartment," Sonny said, and walked past Sam. "Sam."
"Sonny." Sam waited until the door closed behind him, then turned to Jason and said, "Okay, I'm sorry, but I just don't like that guy. I know he's your boss and everything, but the way he constantly concerns himself in our business pisses me off."
Jason shrugged. "He's just concerned. Doesn't think this is a good idea. The Quartermaines...they don't like Sonny. In fact, it's safe to say they hate his guts."
"Gee, I wonder why," Sam muttered. She craned her neck and rolled her shoulders. "Okay, can we just--get back to that moment when you were feeling the baby kick and we were so happy and excited?"
"Yeah," Jason said softly, nodding. "Come on, I'll help you clean up."
After they'd cleaned up the mess and moved the crib to where the nursery would be, Jason and Sam ended up together on the couch, just talking.
Sam was lying on top of him, his hand on her belly. "You know...when I felt the baby kick for the first time," she said, her voice quiet, "...that just made it, all of this, seem real to me. This baby isn't some--abstract idea anymore, it's--it's inside of me. There's this...precious life in me. I'm--I'm going to be a mom."
Jason swallowed. "You know...this is all I wanted to do. Be a father to a child. It didn't matter if it was mine or not...I just wanted to have a kid, because deep down, I knew that was what I was meant to do. Now I finally have that chance."
"This is going to work out okay," Sam said, and rolled around so that she was facing him. "We're going to be okay. All three of us."
"Yeah, we are," Jason said hoarsely, suddenly so aware of her weight on top of him, of her curves and the way she smells. He remembered the softness of her hair, and had to feel that against his fingers again. So he gently stroked her hair, then moved his other hand to cup her face.
Her mouth trembled slightly. "Jason...what are you doing?"
"I have no idea," he whispered. Somehow, their faces have gotten closer to each other. How did that happen? Was he the one to move in, or was it her? Or was it both of them?
"It's...it's not fair," she said. This close, Jason could tell that her eyes weren't brown, but a really beautiful shade of hazel. "I'm four months pregnant, Jason. Hormones. I can't think clearly, especially around you...or any good-looking guy, which means I can't figure out if this--us--would be a horrible idea or not."
"Honestly," Jason admitted, rubbing her soft cheek with his thumb, "neither can I."
Her shoulders, which had been pretty stiff before, seemed to just melt and all the tension went out of her. "If we do this...if we have sex again...what are we going to be?"
He swallowed. God, why was it so hard to think all of a sudden? He was Jason Morgan, clear thinking was what he was known for. "We're going to be two expecting parents," he said quietly. "That's never going to change, Sam. As for the rest...we'll just figure it out as we go along, okay?"
She bit her lip. "Okay. Okay. I believe you." She smiled slightly. "I always believe you."
"Good," he murmered, right before he kissed her.
In the hours afterward, Sam's thoughts were a haze. The clearest things were how Jason's hands always seemed to linger on her gently rounded belly. How he still tasted the same as the night they had met, months before. How he was gentler this time around.
How some things didn't change. How he still knew how to make her gasp, and groan, and scream.
And when she finally fell asleep, exhausted, there were no dreams of Lucky Spencer, Johnny Depp, or even Jason. Instead, she dreamed of standing in a huge room filled with beautiful baby cribs. And in the most beautiful one of them all, her precious baby girl was sleeping soundly.