Author's note: I'm so glad to hear that some of you guys are becoming intrigued by the Lucky/Sam pairing. Means I'm doing my job. And as for what's happening on the show—quite frankly, I think it's crap. I have a ton of respect for the actors, (Nancy Lee Grahn, who plays Alexis, in particular is kicking ass) but I think the writers are screwing up BOTH Alexis and Sam, and that killing Sam's baby off was completely unnecessary. But I don't have control over the show. I do, however, have control over this story, which means that there is NO WAY I'm killing Sam's baby off. I'm going to say it flat-out, Sam's baby will live in this story, thankyouverymuch.
In happier news, I was so thrilled and vindicated today. Okay, you know that Fun in the Sun thing that ABC Daytime is doing, (and God knows why, since it's November) on there, Greg Vaughan was shown as saying that since Jason had stolen Elizabeth, Lucky should have a chance to steal Sam. HEE! I'm not the only one who sees it! Told you! (Not that I seriously think they'll go there, since Frons has confirmed that it's Jason/Sam and Elizabeth/Lucky all the way for now. But still. Heh.) And if you're still with me after all that, I commend you, and now—the new chapter!
He'd forgotten about the freckles. How the hell had he forgotten the freckles? The last time they'd been together, he'd played connect-the-dots with his fingers...and then his tongue.
But other things he remembered. The way she gasped, the way she could scream. How to make her scream.
He looked down at her. Sam had wrapped herself around him immediately afterwards. Her arm was wrapped around him, and her head rested on his chest. She was sleeping peacefully.
Jason had forgotten what this was like. Falling asleep with someone. Knowing they'd be there in the morning. Wanting them to be there in the morning.
And he hoped to God that this night, she wouldn't want to run.
The phone rang, piercing the silence. Jason groaned and turned towards the dresser. Sam stirred, but didn't wake up. He picked up the phone. " 'Lo," he muttered.
"Jason, it's Sonny. Come over to the apartment right away."
He stifled a groan. "Now? Sonny, it's the middle of the night."
"It's an emergency, Jason."
Any other night, Jason would have gotten up immediately and come over without thinking about it. But Sam...he didn't want to leave her, alone in his bed. He wanted to stay...to fall asleep with his hand on her belly. That was what he wanted to do.
"Sure, I'll be right over," he said with a slight sigh.
If Sonny heard the slight sigh, he made no comment. Instead, he just said, "See you soon."
Slowly, Jason slid out of her warm embrace. He prayed she wouldn't wake up...and she didn't.
He glanced at her, tangled up in the dark sheets in his huge bed...and then he left.
She knew he was gone the minute she opened her eyes.
Slowly, Sam sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest.
Well, she'd finally gotten laid. Too bad Jason hadn't felt the need to stick around. Hell, last time he'd at least said goodbye before walking out.
Sam slid out of the bed, rubbing her aching lower back. She quickly grabbed the nearest shirt she could find--which happened to be Jason's.
Walking quickly to her room, she kept an ear open for any sound, something that meant Jason was still in the apartment. But there was nothing, except the hum of the air conditioner.
Except--Sam frowned and listened harder. There were noises. Voices. Yelling. What was it, next door? No, no, across the hall.
Sam's eyes widened. She went into her room, grabbed a pair of running pants, slid them on, and went to go investigate.
The minute she walked into the hallway, the yelling grew clearer. And yes, it was coming from Sonny's apartment.
Sam glared at the closed door. What the hell were they thinking? It was late in the night, or maybe really early in the morning--anyway, this was no time to be having a huge fight. Besides, weren't there kids in there?
Gritting her teeth, Sam stalked over and opened the door, which was unlocked.
Jason, Sonny, and Carly turned towards her, surprised. Sam noticed with not a little amount of shock, that Carly had been crying. "What the hell's going on?" she asked, bewildered.
"Sam, what are you doing here?" Jason asked.
Sam stepped inside the penthouse. "I could hear the yelling all across the hall," she explained. "Besides, you were gone."
He looked down. "Don't worry, Sam. Go back to the penthouse."
She bristled at the dismissal. "What's going on?" she repeated.
"I found my dad," Carly told her.
Sam blinked. "And...that's a bad thing?"
"Carly," Sonny interrupted, clearly annoyed. "Don't."
Carly ignored her husband. "I never knew my dad—in fact, I didn't even know who he was. I was adopted, moved here to find my mom...anyway, she—she finally told me who my biological father is. And I found him."
"Well, that's—great," Sam said. "Isn't it?"
"He's a federal prosecutor, Sam," Jason explained.
Sam's eyes grew huge. "Ah. And you're in the mob—" she smiled slightly. "Wow. You—you have to appreciate the irony." Everyone just stared at her. "Or maybe that's just me."
Sonny turned to Carly. "You cannot meet this man."
Carly looked close to breaking into tears again. "Sonny, he's my father."
Sam winced. For the first time ever, she actually felt something besides annoyance for Carly. It was compassion. Hell, five years ago, Sam had been exactly where Carly was now.
Jason turned to Sam. "Sam, you've been here before, right? With your mom in South Carolina?"
Sam's eyes widened. She couldn't believe he was dragging her into this. "Yeah. Um. My mom abandoned me when I was a baby, and when I was seventeen, I decided to look for her."
"And didn't it go badly?" Jason prodded.
Sam laughed mirthlessly. "Yeah, it did." Carly folded her arms, and Sam stepped closer to her. "She—she wanted nothing to do with me. Called me trash to my face. It—it was horrible." She paused, feeling that old heartbreak again. "But—I'm still glad I did it."
Carly's eyes widened with hope. "You are?"
"Yeah, absolutely," Sam said. "After all those years of wondering—now I knew. I could let go of it, I could finally move on. Carly—as badly as it went, it was still—freeing, in a way. I wasn't defined by it anymore. I wasn't the kid whose mom had abandoned her or whose father hadn't wanted her. I was just me. So, if you want to go see your dad...no matter what he does...you've got my support at least."
Carly looked touched. "Thanks."
"He's a federal prosecutor!" Sonny burst out. "Honey, I'm sorry, but you could put all of us in danger—"
"Oh, give me a break," Sam groaned.
Sonny's nostrils flared. "Excuse me?"
Sam rolled her eyes. Was she supposed to be intimidated by this guy? He was her size, for Christ's sake, and she was tiny. "Sonny, you and Jason put us in danger every single day. That's the reason we have the bodyguards, right? And—and the bulletproof windows? You put us in danger because you won't leave the business, and we have to put up with it. And now you have the nerve to order your wife not to meet her own father because it's too dangerous?"
Sonny and Jason stared at her. "Sam—" Jason started.
"And you!" she exclaimed, turning to him. "I'm not at all surprised that Sonny is this controlling, but come on, Jason. You're better than this. At least I hope you are."
Jason had the grace to look ashamed.
Sam sighed, "I'm going to bed. And do me a favor? Keep the yelling down." She stretched. "Ack. My back's killing me. Night everyone."
"Night," Jason muttered.
"Goodnight, Sam," Carly said, and Sam was glad to see that she seemed better.
Sonny didn't say anything, which was fine by Sam. She walked out, gently closing the door behind her.
When Jason finally got back, Sam wasn't in his bedroom.
He knew there was no reason to be disappointed. So he squared his shoulders and went to hers.
Her back was facing him as he opened the door. "I know you're not asleep," he called out.
Sam flopped around and turned to him. "You're a jackass, you know that? And Sonny's a bigger jackass."
He shuffled his feet. "Carly's dad...his name is John Durant. He's a federal prosecutor who's been going after organized crime for years. He's a threat, Sam."
"You don't even know the guy."
"I know he's ruthless. I know he's going to see Carly as a way to take Sonny down. This isn't going to have a happy ending."
"Carly's a grown woman," Sam pointed out. "She's old enough to make her own decisions, and you can't make them for her."
Jason sighed. "Sam, I've been taking care of Carly for—for as long as we've known each other. It's what I do."
"You can't protect her forever," she pointed out.
"Maybe not. But I can try."
Sam sighed. "Whatever. Just keep the volume down. And aren't the kids there? Do they reallyneed to hear you yelling so loudly?"
Jason groaned, realizing that Michael and Morgan had been upstairs the whole time. It had mostly been Sonny yelling, but still…"Yeah, that was pretty bad, huh?"
"Yeah. It was." She stretched and looked at him. "You going to stand there forever?"
Jason took no responsibility for what came out of his mouth next. "Can I stay with you?"
Sam stared at him, her eyes wide. Jason fought the urge to look around for who had said that, then when he realized that he'd been the one to say it, he almost clapped a hand over his mouth in shock. "I mean...I didn't..."
"Okay," she said abruptly, shifting to the next side of the bed.
Jason knew his eyes were huge, and he also knew that wasn't a really flattering look for him, but he couldn't help it. "You sure?"
She gave him a look. "Get in already, Morgan."
He wasn't about to disobey that. He quickly slid in next to her.
She plucked at the sleeve of his shirt. "Take this off," she whispered.
Jason almost choked. "Really?" She gave him a look, and he immediately removed his shirt. "Can...can I ask why?"
"You look good without a shirt," she responded promptly, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head on his chest.
"Oh. Okay."
He'd forgotten what this was like. Sleeping next to someone who was soft and warm and who smelled good.
And before he realized it, he was asleep.
"Monica?"
Monica turned around to see Sam, in a black t-shirt with the words 'Chaos, panic, and disorder. My work here is done'. Her belly was slightly showing beneath the fabric. "Hello, Sam. Nice shirt."
"Thanks," Sam said brightly. She reached into her purse and pulled out a watch. "You left this at the apartment yesterday, thought I'd bring it back."
"Oh, thank you," Monica said. "I was wondering where the thing had gone." As she fastened it around her wrist, Monica asked, "So, how are you doing?"
"Good. You?"
"Fine," Monica said. "And how are things at the penthouse?"
"Aside from all the yelling in the middle of the night? They're great."
Monica's eyes widened. "Yelling?"
Sam waved a hand. "Sonny and Carly...it's a long story."
Impulsively, Monica asked, "Why don't you tell me about it at dinner?"
"Dinner?" Sam repeated, looking surprised.
"Well, yes. With me, and with Alan. I know he's eager to get to know you better, and—they do have some decent restaurants in Port Charles..." It was strange, how nervous she was about this.
Sam smiled softly. "Yeah. You know what, that sounds like a good idea. I'd love to."
"Good," Monica said, beaming and ridiculously relieved that she'd said yes. "How about this Friday?"
"Okay, yeah," Sam said, then glanced at the clock on the wall. "Oh, crap, I've got to get back to work."
"Dillon, for the last time, no."
"Oh, come on, Sam!" Dillon pleaded. "Just fifteen minutes, please..."
"Dillon, if you want to learn about the mob, go to the library," Sam ordered him. "Watch the Godfather, or Goodfellas, or even Corky Romano. But there is no way I'm going to let you try to grill Jason about life as a mob enforcer. And there's even less of a chance that he's going to actually answer any of your questions. Now, please stop following me!"
Dillon blinked. "I'm following you?"
Sam gave him a disbelieving look. "Dillon. You've been following me for the past twenty minutes!"
He looked around, and seemed shocked to realize they were no longer in L&B's, but actually on the street. "Whoa." He looked sheepish and stuck his hands in his pockets. "Sorry. Really didn't mean to play creepy-stalker-guy."
"It's all right," Sam said. "Now...go and make out with Georgie."
Dillon tilted his head. "You know, that's actually a good idea. Bye, Sam."
"Bye, Dillon," she called after his rapidly retreating form, for once thankful for teenage hormones. Sam went into the bookstore, the bell on the door jingling as she went in.
As she wandered around the aisles, she nearly bumped into someone. "Ooh, sorry, I didn't--" Then she looked up, and realized it was Lucky.
"Hey," he said, smiling down at her. "Didn't figure you for the fix-it-yourself girl."
She looked around, and sure enough, she was in the hardware section. "Oh. Not really. But I did put together a baby crib. Course, I had help. I'm actually looking for the baby section."
"Oh. Uhhh....the child-rearing section is over there. I go there occasionally so I can help out with my sister," he said. At Sam's questioning look, he explained, "My dad's not really around...and I kind of have to fill in."
"Oh," Sam said. "Wanna come with?"
They'd ended up sitting in two comfy chairs, reading parts out loud. "Oh boy," Sam muttered.
"What is it?" Lucky asked.
She looked up. "Lucky, according to this, I'm supposed to get Jason to read literature to the baby while it's still in my womb. Like, Shakespeare or something." Sam stared at him. "How the hell am I supposed to get Jason to read Shakespeare?"
Lucky suddenly got a vision of Jason saying out loud, 'To be or not to be', and had to force back a snort of laughter.
"I hate classical music," Sam moaned, reading on. "Maybe I can use headphones..."
"Does it have to be classical?" Lucky asked.
"Maybe I could play some rock..." Sam mused.
"What, like AC/DC? Aerosmith? Rolling Stones?" Lucky flipped through another baby book. "Maybe instead of playing whale songs during the birth, you could play Back in Black."
Sam grinned, considering it. "The nurses would probably drop dead from the shock. Not a bad idea."
Lucky hummed a bit of the chorus. "So, how have things been going with you?"
"Good, they're good." Sam paused. "Lucky, what do you know about the Quartermaines? Specifically, Monica and Alan."
"Why do you ask?"
She sighed, crossing her legs. "Well, Monica came over yesterday, and—she wanted to know if I'd let her be involved with the baby's life. And I said yes, and before I knew it, we were bonding over nuts and bolts and the most complicated directions known to man."
Lucky gave her a look, confused. "What?"
She waved a hand. "You had to be there. And—I don't know. I mean, I like her, and there's no way I'm prepared to shut my baby's grandparents out of her life—"
"Her?" he repeated.
"Oh," Sam said, smiling softly. "Yeah, it's—it's a girl."
"Congratulations," he said, smiling at her.
"Yeah. But—I don't know. I mean, the Quartermaines are high-class. They're one of the richest families in town—and—and I don't even know what forks are supposed to be used for the salad!"
"Sam, relax. I don't think the Quartermaines are going to judge you. You said that you and Monica got along well yesterday—"
"No, we did. She was charming and nice…I like her." Sam swallowed. "Plus…my own mom's definitely not going to pull the doting grandmother thing, so…it's a good idea, right? Letting the Quartermaines be a part of my daughter's life?" She looked at him. "Lucky, for the love of God, you might be the only person in my life right now who can give me an unbiased opinion."
"I think letting the Quartermaines be a part of the baby's life is a good idea," Lucky told her.
"Good," Sam said, sitting back in her chair. "That's what I thought too. It's nice to hear someone back me up."
Coming back to the penthouse with her purchases, Sam almost dropped them when she opened the door to find Carly sitting on the couch. "Carly," she said warily. Sam had come to the other woman's defense last night, but that didn't mean they were best friends now.
Carly stood up. "Hey, Sam." Sam had to admit, Carly's tone was more civil than she'd ever heard it before.
"Are you here to see Jason?" Sam asked, laying her bag on the desk.
"Yeah, he just left. Um…I wanted to say thanks. For what you did last night, stepping in like that."
Almost on a whim, Sam asked, "Do they always order you around like that?"
"They're just concerned," Carly said, brushing it off. "But, uh, I know I wasn't that great to you when you first came here—"
"No kidding."
"—but it wasn't my place to interfere. And I'm sorry."
Sam shrugged, deciding to be the bigger person and simply let it go. "Yeah, it's okay."
Carly shifted from one foot to the other. "So, you're becoming friends with my cousin, Lucky, huh?"
"Yes…" Sam said warily, waiting to see where this was going.
Carly nodded. "You do realize he's a cop, right?"
Sam's jaw dropped. She knew where this was going now. "Please do not tell me your husband sent you here to warn me away—"
"No, no, he didn't," Carly insisted, holding her hands out. "It's just—Sam, once you choose this life…you have to go in all the way, you know? It's all or nothing with Sonny and Jason. There's no middle ground, especially when there's a cop involved."
"Well, then, that's just going to have to change," Sam said shortly. "I'm sorry, but my life has been completely uprooted already. I'm not going to conform to their rules any more than I already have."
"It's none of my business, I know," Carly said apologetically.
"Then why bring it up?" Sam asked.
"Because—you just can't have it both ways, Sam. You can't live here with Jason and be Lucky's friend at the same time. Sooner or later, you will have to choose between them."
"Why?" Sam demanded. "Lucky hasn't asked me to choose. He hasn't grilled me about Jason's work, and the fact is, Carly, I couldn't tell him anything anyway."
"I know, but—"
"Not that I have to justify anything to you," Sam continued, "but Lucky is a nice guy. I like him. I like talking to him. Especially since Jason is the strong and silent type, emphasis on the silent part."
Carly sighed. "Sam—it's none of my business, and God knows I don't want to be doing this—but I've been there, okay? I tried to straddle the line, to find a compromise, and you know what? It tore my family apart. I almost lost my marriage and my kids because I didn't understand that once you went into this, you stayed in. I made a choice to stay. And I don't want to see Jason hurt."
"He's not going to get hurt," Sam said tightly.
Carly sighed again. "At least I tried," she muttered. "Bye, Sam."
"Good-bye."
As the door shut behind Carly, Sam took a deep breath. The penthouse suddenly felt so confining…so shut in.
Quickly, Sam went to a nearby window and held it open. As she breathed in the warm air, she couldn't help but think about what Carly had said. About the sadness in her dark brown eyes. The sadness…and the knowledge.
But Sam wasn't Carly. Sonny Corinthos and Jason did not rule her life. Jason may have brought her here, but he didn't rule her life. Sam still had her independence—
Sure, you do, Sammie-girl. You're living here, him paying all the bills, paying for your clothes, your food, you're carrying his baby, and you still think you can walk out if you feel like it?
The voice in her head sounded exactly like Cody McCall.
Sam let out a long sigh. No. Sam still had her common sense, it wasn't like pregnancy had eaten away at her brain. She wouldn't become Jason's mouthpiece. She wouldn't let him become her whole world, she wouldn't become his parrot, she wouldn't uproot her life anymore than she already had just because it would make his boss feel more secure.
Lucky was a nice guy. She liked spending time with him. She liked getting to know Jason's mother, and she was looking forward to having dinner with his parents.
And if Jason and Sonny Corinthos didn't like that, that was just too damn bad.
"Hello, Sam. Is Sage ready to go yet?"
"No," Sam said with an apologetic smile. "She's still in there, brainstorming with Ned. Once those two get started writing, it's almost impossible to tear them away."
Lorenzo Alcazar smiled back. "Tell me about it. The number of times I get calls from her math teacher, complaining about her writing song lyrics instead of logarithms…"
Sam laughed. "Can't say I blame her. She's really talented too. You should be proud."
"I am," he said quietly. "Well, since it most likely is going to be a while, would you mind very much if I sat here and…" he glanced at the magazines on the table, "and pondered the durability of OutKast?"
Sam laughed again. "Be my guest," she said, standing up to put away some papers. As she did so, she couldn't help but notice that Lorenzo's gaze was on her slightly rounded belly.
"How far along are you?" he asked abruptly.
Sam blinked. "Um, four and a half months. Why?"
He didn't answer her question, instead saying, "Sage likes you, you know."
"Well, I like her too," Sam said.
Lorenzo continued, almost meditative, his gaze fixed on some far-away point. "And you've always been polite and friendly to me, which given my history with Sonny and Jason, is rather—surprising, to say the least."
Sam had no idea where he was going with this. "I make up my own mind about people."
His eyes finally settled on her face. "You seem to be a very rational person. I admire that."
"Uh…thanks, I guess."
Lorenzo paused, as if choosing his words carefully. "You know that I used to be in the mob. It's…a dangerous life, Sam, filled with the constant threat of violence and death."
Sam sucked in a breath. Now she knew where he was going. "I know that," she said quietly.
"There was a time…when I didn't care about the danger," Lorenzo told her. "But then Sage came to live with me, and…eventually, her life was no longer an acceptable risk. So I got out."
"That's good," she said. "Sage adores you, you know. She'd be heartbroken if something were to happen to you."
Lorenzo looked at her steadily. "Sam, I left that world. Sonny and Jason won't. Not ever. They—they like living that life. The danger, the threats…as strange as it may seem, they enjoy it."
"Why are you telling me this?" Sam asked in a whisper.
"Because as I said, my niece happens to like you," Lorenzo replied. "I know you've made the decision to stay with Jason, and I'm not about to try and talk you out of it. Just—be careful. Will you do that?"
Sam unconsciously rubbed her stomach, and widened her eyes as Lorenzo's gaze followed her movements. "Okay," she said. "Okay, I will. I'll—I'll be careful."
"Good."
Twenty minutes later, Sage finally exited the studio and left with her uncle. Sam didn't know whether to be relieved to see Lorenzo leave…
…or whether to follow him and demand an explanation. Because it was very clear that Lorenzo had been censoring himself. He could have told her more, but he had chosen to be vague. He had given her a broad warning, without telling her exactly what she should be afraid of.
And she knew that him asking about her pregnancy had been deliberate. He wanted her to be careful, not just for herself, but for her child as well.
Which meant that both of them, Sam and the baby, were in danger.
Sam's first thought was to call Jason and ask. But she knew that wouldn't work. Jason—his mind just worked differently than hers. They were complete opposites in every way. It wasn't that Sam distrusted Jason, because she knew he would have said something if she thought she was in danger.
But Jason's ideas of danger were probably a lot different than hers. She needed someone who thought the way she did.
Lucky. But then—she couldn't put Lucky in that position. He would tell her the truth, she believed that, but if Sonny and Jason found out, they would accuse him of interfering, of trying to turn Sam against them.
"I hope…that you'll consider turning to the Quartermaines. Despite Jason's feelings."
The Quartermaines. Sam was having dinner with them tomorrow…she could ask them. Yeah.
Her mind made up, Sam went back to her work.
"I don't like it," Sonny stated, shaking his head. "I just don't like it."
Jason sighed as he looked through the shipping contracts. "Sonny, she's already on the plane to Manhattan. It's done. Carly's meeting Durant, and there's nothing we can do about that."
Sonny couldn't let it go. "You know she has no plan for what she's going to do now? I mean it, Jason, I asked her what she was going to say when she met him, and you know what she said? 'I don't know, Sonny, I'll see when I get there'. " He threw up his hands in disbelief. "And this is Carly we're talking about, Jason, God knows what's going to come out of her mouth—"
Jason rubbed his face. "Sonny, Sonny—Carly would never do anything to jeopardize her family. We can't do anything about it right now."
Intellectually, Sonny knew Jason was right. He even knew that Carly deserved the right to know her own father. But the risk…it was too much for him to accept.
However, no one seemed to care these days what he could accept. Sonny glanced around the apartment, and his eyes lit upon a box of DVDs. "Since when do you watch the Sopranos?" he wondered out loud.
Jason glanced up from the contracts. "Oh, those are Sam's. Calls them research."
Sonny smirked at the thought. "Where is she, anyway?"
"Uhh…think she's upstairs."
As if on cue, Sam came downstairs, wearing a dark blue knee-length dress. "Bye," she called out.
"Whoa, where are you going?"
Sam stopped on her way to the door. "To dinner at the Grille. And before you ask, I'm not having dinner with Lucky."
"I didn't ask if you were going to have dinner with Lucky," Jason said.
"You were going to," Sam countered. "But I'm actually having dinner with your parents."
Sonny and Jason both stared at her. "You're what?" Jason said finally. "Why?"
"Your mom asked if I wanted to go to dinner, I said yes." Sam folded her arms, clearly waiting for an argument.
Sonny looked at Jason. "You—you think this is a good idea?" he asked.
Jason shrugged and looked at Sam. "Sam—"
"You know, Sonny," Sam said coolly, ignoring Jason, "I'm a little curious as to why this bothers you so much."
Sonny looked at her and said calmly, "The Quartermaines are trying to manipulate you to get to Jason. That concerns me. Jason's my right-hand man, not to mention my best friend—when someone tries to get to Jason using his child—"
"You're paranoid," Sam declared. "And I'm leaving."
"Wait, wait, hold up, Sam—" Sonny said, frustrated by her refusal to listen to him.
Sam, who had turned towards the door, whirled around again. "Listen to me very closely, Sonny. Are you listening?" At his nod, she continued brazenly, "I really don't give a shit about your opinions. This is Jason's child that I am carrying. I'm living in Jason's apartment, and it is Jason's family that I'm about to meet with. And none of this—not the Quartermaines or me or this baby—have anything to do with you."
Sonny's jaw tightened. "You know what?" he said softly. "I'm going to let that slide, because you're new in town, and you don't understand how things work—"
"Oh, I think I understand things very well," Sam replied calmly, smirking at him. "I understand that you think you can just order me around like you do everyone else you come into contact with. But that's not happening, Sonny. Not now, not ever. So back the fuck off already."
Sonny knew his mouth had fallen open slightly, and that it really wasn't a good look for him, but he couldn't help it. Holy shit. Who the hell did she think she was—
"Jason," Sam continued, her voice now breezy and unconcerned, as if the heated conversation she'd just had with Sonny hadn't occurred, "I'm taking Max and I'm not quite sure when I'll be back, okay?"
To Sonny's disbelief, Jason just waved a hand. "All right."
All right?
Sam smiled at him quickly. "Bye, Jason." And with that, she walked out the door and was gone.
Sonny turned to Jason in disbelief. "What the hell was that?"
Jason sighed. "Sonny, don't—don't push it, alright?"
"I didn't push anything!" he protested. "She just came down here and proceeded to chew me out for no reason—"
"Sonny, Sonny," Jason said. "Listen to me, all right?" At Sonny's nod, he continued, ticking off his points on his fingers. "One, Sam doesn't like you. Two, she's not afraid of you. Three, she has absolutely no problem speaking her mind. Which means that if you piss her off—which you seem to do a lot—she's going to say something about it." Jason rubbed the back of his neck. "Plus, you know, I think she's got a point. The Quartermaines are my problem to handle, not yours."
Sonny almost looked around in bewilderment. Was he in the Twilight Zone or something? "Of course the Quartermaines are my concern," he insisted. "Michael's my son, isn't he? You know the Quartermaines have always had a problem with that—"
"Michael's not even an issue, Sonny," Jason told him. "Look, for some reason, Sam likes my family, and I don't want to make a big deal about this. She's just having dinner with them. It's not a problem."
"Right, right…" Sonny muttered. He didn't understand why Jason couldn't see this the way he could…but it didn't matter. He'd get Max to report to him what exactly would be said at that dinner table…then he'd know for sure if the Quartermaines were making another play for Michael.
"Is my tie all right?" Alan asked anxiously.
"Alan, your tie's fine," his wife reassured him. "It's just dinner."
"Right, I know," Alan said. "It's just—I don't want—I don't want this to be like it was with Michael and Carly."
"Sam's not Carly," Monica said. "For one thing, she's a lot more rational."
"Thank God for small favors," Alan muttered as he pulled into the parking lot.
Monica quirked an eyebrow at her husband. "Alan, the fact that we're being spared from Carly: Part Two isn't a small favor, it's a big one."
Alan considered. "Good point." He turned off the engine. "Well, shall we?"
To his utter shock and total delight, Alanwas finding out that Monica had been right. Sam was nothing like Carly. She was charming and respectful and Alan still couldn't figure out how Jason had ended up with a girl that was so…normal.
"We're having a Nurses' Ball in a while," Monica was saying. "You should attend. It'll be fun."
"Yes, if there isn't a shootout by then," Alan muttered, remembering his discussion with Mac a few days ago.
"Alan—" Monica gave him a warning look, clearly not wanting to bring up anything mob-related over dinner. But that just wasn't possible. Everything came back to the mob these days.
"I'm sorry, Monica, but I really do think we'll need to beef up security this year. According to Mac, there seem to be some rumblings between Faith Rosco and that midget."
Sam choked on her club soda. "Did—did you just refer to Sonny as a midget?" she asked delightedly.
"I most certainly did," Alan responded. "How that man can swagger around—"
Sam was giggling. "I thought I was the only one that noticed. And really, his attempts at intimidation are just—lame."
"He's tried to intimidate you?" Monica asked, concerned.
Sam waved a hand nonchalantly. "Oh, don't worry about it. I give as good as I get." She frowned slightly. "There's been more violence?"
"Yes," Alan said. "A couple of assaults, there's even been some talk of gunfire, although of course, neither side will admit to anything." Alan tried very hard not to think about Jason being involved in that, even though he most likely was.
Sam bit her lip. "You know…I was talking to Lorenzo Alcazar the other day…"
"Better not tell Sonny," Monica warned her. "He loathes Alcazar."
"All the more reason for me to tell him," Sam quipped. "But…Lorenzo gave me a…warning. He was really vague, but the way he talked, it was as if he thought there was a specific danger against me…and the baby, and that it was coming from Sonny and Jason. Do you know what he could mean?"
Alan thought hard, willing his mind to stay clear and focused, not to panic. "Aside from the mob violence, which you already know about…I can't think of anything. I mean, Jason would never do anything to—"
"Oh, I know that," Sam reassured him.
"And Sonny's always given the impression of being devoted to his children…" Monica trailed off, and her eyes widened. "Oh God."
"What?" Sam's eyes were just as wide with worry. "What is it? What did Sonny do?'"
Monica put her face in her hands. "Now I remember…of course Alcazar would be the one to…Good Lord, he was there when it happened!"
"When what happened?" Sam burst out, clearly starting to panic.
"Alan, you remember," Monica said. "Carly."
And with that, Alan realized what Alcazar had been hinting at. He groaned. "Oh God." The thought of trying to explain this to Sam…the poor girl would panic, and rightfully so.
"You have to tell me," Sam pleaded with both of them. "I can't go to Jason, he'd just give me the runaround…and I didn't want to bring Lucky into this. Please. Just tell me."
Alan sighed. She had a right to know, to walk in with her eyes open…or to walk out. "Have you ever seen Carly's youngest child? Morgan?"
"Yeah," Sam said warily. "He's a cute baby."
Monica decided to take up the tale. "Well…when Carly was pregnant with Morgan, there was…an incident."
"What kind of incident?"
And so they told her.
Sam McCall was on the verge of passing out. This had never happened to her before Port Charles.
Clearly, Monica was right. There was something in the water. How else could you explain these people?
"Sam?" Alan asked worriedly. "Sam, please say something."
She blinked, then finally croaked, "Sonny…shot his wife. In the head."
Monica wore an expression of sympathy. "Yes, he did."
"And she was giving birth at the time. To their child."
"Yes."
Sam took a deep breath. "Well, it's a good thing you're both doctors, because I think I'm about to pass out."
"All right, remember to breathe," Monica counseled her in a soothing voice.
Sam stared at her and said flatly, "I just found out that my neighbor shot his pregnant wife in the head and got away with it, scot-free, and you expect me to breathe?"
"She's got a point," Alan muttered, then said, "Sam, in no way are we excusing what Sonny did—we just don't want you to panic."
Sam wasn't really paying attention. "Carly went back to him?" How the hell did that happen? What woman in her right mind would go back to a man who had shot her in the head and put her in a coma?
"There was a brief fling with Alcazar, a pretense at divorce, even a custody battle," Monica recounted. "Sam, the first thing you will learn is this: Sonny and Carly always get back together. Always. No matter who's in the way, no matter how twisted and dysfunctional their relationship becomes—they get back together."
Sam rubbed at her face fretfully. "This is what you were warning me about," she realized, talking to Alan. "In the hospital."
Alan looked weary. "Yes, partially. I was also concerned about the dangers of kidnappings or an attempt to hurt you or the baby…"
Sam buried her face in her hands. "Oh, God."
"I know this is a lot to absorb—"
Sam lifted her head and in a dull voice, said, "Back in the beginning of all this—Jason—Jason looked me right in the eyes and promised me that everything was going to be okay. He promised that I would be safe." She focused on Alan and Monica's stricken faces. "He promised. And the thing is," she realized, "he wasn't lying. Or he didn't think he was lying, at least. He really believed I would be all right, even though he wanted to stash me across the hall from a man who'd shot his pregnant wife in the head. He really thinks I'll be okay."
Clearly pained, Alan shook his head. "I haven't understood Jason's thought processes in years."
"What do you want to do now?" Monica asked gently. "Sam, you have to know that we'll try and support you any way we can—"
"I know," Sam murmered as she stood up. "I know, and believe me, I'm so grateful for that…but I just—I need to think right now. Alone."
She quickly fled.
It was pretty safe to say that Lucky was having a rotten day. In fact, he'd been having a rotten day for months now. His mom, Luke, Skye…all of it, all of the huge mess that was currently making his life hell.
Not for the first time, his mind replayed the conversation he'd had with Ric Lansing earlier.
"Have you heard the news yet, Lucky?"
"No, what?"
Ric sighed. "Lucky, Skye escaped from prison last night."
Lucky folded his arms. "Well, I'm sorry, but that's probably a good thing, because I don't believe she belongs there. And if you were willing to be honest with yourself, you'd admit that deep down you think the exact same thing."
"Lucky, even if I have doubts, which I'm not saying I do—" Lucky snorted at this, "it doesn't matter. Think of how this looks. A convicted cop killer escapes from a maximum security prison. Skye just ruined any chances she had at leniency."
"Ric, I'm sorry, but this is crap and you know it," Lucky said heatedly. "Come on, you're the DA and you're having doubts about whether the right person was put in jail. Why the hell aren't you mounting a full-scale investigation?"
"You think I don't want to?" Ric burst out. "The idea that I sent an innocent woman to prison makes me want to throw up, all right? I get sick to my stomach every time I think about it, but my hands are tied, Lucky. I've got the mayor breathing down my damn neck—" He stopped abruptly, clearly not meaning to say that last part.
"Mayor?" Lucky repeated stupidly, not understanding. "What about the mayor? What does he have to do with this?" This was the first time he'd heard anything about the mayor.
Ric let out another long sigh. "I wasn't supposed to tell you that…"
"Well, you did. So you might as well finish what you started. Just tell me the truth."
Ric sighed. "Okay. The truth is that…ever since Skye was convicted, the mayor's been heavily leaning on me to make sure she stays in prison. At—at first I thought it was just about him looking good or not wanting the killer of a cop to get free, but—it's like he's got a personal stake in this."
"That's why you've been trying to get me to back off," Lucky realized.
Ric looked up at that. "No, that was because the mayor made it very clear that if you were to continue investigating, you'd lose your job and the PCPD would lose a hell of a lot of funding. We're scraping by as it is."
Lucky groans. "Unbelievable. You think he's being bribed?"
"Does my half-brother have an ego?" Ric asked sarcastically. "Of course he's being bribed! Damned if I can figure out by who…"
"So…where do we go now?" Lucky asked despairingly. If the mayor was going to block him at every turn and if he didn't have any official backing…
Ric looked at him. "I don't know. Officially, you know Mac and I can't give you any help. But if, on your own time, you were to find something, some shred of evidence to prove Skye's innocence…I might be able to work with that."
Lucky shook his head. "Ric, I've been looking for months. Nikolas has hired an army of private detectives to look for my parents and so far there's been nothing."
"Then I'm sorry, Lucky, but I've got nothing else that can help you."
Yep, Lucky was really having a rotten day. He'd thought it was bad when it had seemed to be Ric that was keeping him back, but now that he'd found out it was the Mayor…he was so screwed. So totally screwed.
He couldn't go to a judge with just a hunch that his dad hadn't willingly written that letter. No matter how strong his hunch felt, that had been his dad's handwriting. It didn't matter that he had doubts, that Ric Lansing had doubts. The case was closed, and he didn't know how to reopen it.
He didn't know how to fix this, how to clear Skye's name, find his parents, cure his mom…in short, he didn't have a damn clue on how to fix his life.
Yeah. He really was having a rotten day.
He leaned against the park bench and stared up at the sky. The moon was half-full tonight and the stars were out. Not for the first time, he was glad he didn't live in a place like New York, where the starlight was drowned out by the lights of the city.
"Guess I'm just a small-town boy at heart," he murmered, amused at himself.
"I would say so," a female and familiar voice said.
Lucky twisted his head to see Sam standing behind him, smiling faintly. Despite the smile, it was pretty clear that she was upset. "Hey. Are you all right?"
"I'm fi—" Sam checked herself. "No, actually I'm not. Mind if I sit?"
"Sure." Lucky's voice was maybe a little more eager than it should have been. But then, was it so bad to want some company? To want to focus on someone else's problems?
As long as he didn't focus on Sam's hair or how pretty she looked tonight, it would be okay.
Whoa. Where the hell did that come from?
He snapped out of it, thank God, and made room for her on the park bench. "So, what's going on? Didn't you have that dinner with the Quartermaines?"
"You remembered that?" she asked, surprised.
"Yeah," Lucky said, shrugging it off. "Did something go wrong?"
"No, no, Alan and Monica were great," Sam said. "They were friendly and kind, it went really well. Until I found out that I'm apparently living next door to a man that shot his wife in the head while she was in labor."
Oh, shit. Lucky winced. "Yeah. That…" He shook his head. "I don't know what to tell you."
"Tell me that I don't have a reason to be afraid," Sam said hoarsely. "Tell me that it's an exaggeration, that it didn't really happen, that—Sonny isn't dangerous."
Lucky closed his eyes at the pleading tone in her voice. "I can't," he whispered softly.
"Because it'd be a lie," she finished for him, staring down at her hands, which were clasped in her lap. "I'm so scared, Lucky," she said in a meek voice.
Looking at her, so small and so—so fragile, Lucky impulsively slung an arm around her shoulders and she leaned back against them. Continuing, Sam said, "I'm scared and I'm furious, at Jason, but mostly at myself. Because I knew, Lucky. I knew that Jason's job was dangerous, that the people he associates with are dangerous, that he's even dangerous…and I ignored it. I stuck my head in the sand and I refused to acknowledge the truth." Sam looked at him, her eyes sad.
He had to say it. He couldn't not say it. "Then leave."
And Sam said the words he had known she was going to say. "I can't."
"Why not?" he burst out suddenly, frustrated that yet another woman was refusing to walk away from Jason Morgan and Sonny Corinthos. "Jason's dangerous, Sam. Sonny's dangerous. There's no reason for you to stay—"
"Let's say I leave," Sam interrupted him firmly. "Then what? Jason comes after me again, and again, and again. I tried to run away once, Lucky. I went all the way to Costa Rica and hid out in a convent, for God's sake, and he still found me. And then he'll go to court and he'll sue for joint custody, or worse, sole custody, and you know what? He'll win."
"No," Lucky interrupted fiercely.
Sam laughed. "Oh, come on, Lucky! Wake up. Sonny admitted to attempted murder in open court and got off anyway. He shot his wife in the head and she still went back to him. What makes you think he and Jason will be any less persuasive in court? They can afford the best lawyers, they can afford to bribe the judge, the social workers…anyone he needs to."
Lucky knew she was right. In any other town, Sam could beat Jason easily. But this wasn't any town. This was Port Charles, and Sonny Corinthos and Jason Morgan had always, always come out on top. Who was he to say that this time it could be different? "So what now?" he asked. "Are you…going to stick your head back in the sand again?"
Sam rested his head against his shoulders. "No," she said finally. "I have no idea what I'm going to do now, but I will not ignore this."
"Good," he said, tightening his arm around her just a little bit. Sam didn't protest, in fact, she moved a tiny bit closer to him.
"I'm going to go home," Sam said in a dreamy voice. "I'm going to go back to that penthouse, and I'm going to fight with Jason so, so much. I'm good at that, you know." She looked up at him. "Wanna tag along for moral support?"
Lucky laughed. "Only if I can bring a video camera. Why don't you yell at Sonny too while you're at it?"
Sam laughed ruefully. "Oh, I already did that once tonight. Right before I left for dinner."
Lucky shook his head in amazement. "You know, you're one of the few women in this town that I know who isn't somehow…dazzled by that guy."
"Dazzled? Me?" Sam let out a derisive laugh. "Please. You know what, if you could explain to me what the hell women see in him, I would love to know."
Lucky rolled his eyes. "You're asking the wrong guy. I mean, he's beating women off with a stick, and I can't even get a date."
She stared at him. "You're kidding, right?"
"What, about Sonny beating the women off with a stick? Sadly, no, I'm not."
"No, about you being unable to find a date," Sam said.
Lucky was flattered by the disbelief in her face. "Sad but true," he admitted, rueful.
Her mouth fell open. "My God, there really is something in the water," she said blankly. "What the hell is wrong with the women in this town?"
He was glad the darkness hid the blushing on his cheeks. Seriously, his face had to be bright-red at this point. "Okay, Sam—"
"I mean it!" She sat up straight and started making hand gestures to illustrate her point. "Seriously, Lucky, if you and I had met before I got knocked up, I would have jumped your bones the second we met."
Lucky knew his eyes were as round as dinner plates, and he didn't care. Did she just say what he think she'd just said? "You—you would?" Oh, God, and now his voice was cracking like he was twelve again. What was this girl doing to him?
Sam didn't seem to think anything of her admission. "Oh yeah."
He let a slow grin on his face appear. "Wow. Um…thank you?" She laughed in response, then sighed a little.
"I can't believe I'm laughing today."
"Yeah, neither can I," Lucky admitted.
"Why, what happened with you?" Sam asked immediately, concerned.
He waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it." He paused. "You know…whatever happens with Jason…you're not alone in this. The Quartermaines will back you up, I'm sure of it. And…you've got me too. You can trust me, Sam."
Sam just looked at him, her face pained. "Lucky, the last guy who said that to me stashed me across the hall from a man who shoots pregnant women in the head. I trusted Jason, and look where that's gotten me. Why should I trust you?"
Lucky knew it wasn't personal. If he were in Sam's position, he'd be asking the exact same thing. "Because I know what it's like to be confused and scared and feel like there's no one in your corner. I know what it's like to pretend everything's okay, and the entire time, silently be begging for someone, anyone, to figure out that you're not okay and for them to actually care." He held her gaze and said softly, "Whatever happens after tonight, you've got me in your corner at least. No agendas or manipulations or selective truths to keep you around."
Sam's eyes filled with tears, and she suddenly hugged him fiercely. "God, you have no idea how much I needed someone to say that," she murmered into his shoulder brokenly.
Lucky held her gently, all too aware of how soft she was, of the perfume that was wafting all around him. How good it felt to give someone comfort, to feel needed again, instead of feeling like an afterthought.
Funny. He'd thought Sam needed him to give her comfort…and he was actually getting some in return.
Finally Sam pulled back and wiped at her tears. "I have to get back now."
"Okay," he said, his arms feeling strangely…empty.
She stood up and tilted her head slightly, staring at him for a moment. "You know," she said finally, "you look like a guy who needs to get a ton of things off his chest."
Surprised by her insight, Lucky smiled. "Yeah, probably. But don't worry. It'll keep for a while."
"How about lunch at Kelly's?" Sam asked hopefully. "Around, say, 12:30?"
"Best offer I've had in a long time."