Note: It occurs to me that I really just don't like this story that much. The characters are as screwed up as the motives driving them, and I'm more than ready for this to be over. But I thank those of you that still like it, and I hope you enjoy this. Only about 4 chapters left.

Chapter Twenty-One

Bobbie Cassadine's thin lips curved into a pleased smile as she made her way out of the kitchen at Kelly's with the accounting ledgers under her arm. Her nephew was glancing over the daily headlines as he sipped his coffee, and she squeezed his shoulder affectionately on her way out.

"Someone's in a good mood."

The young man looked up at the teasing lilt of her voice and smiled sheepishly at his aunt. "Hi, Aunt Bobbie."

The redhead rolled her eyes, knowing not to expect any more than that as an explanation for his good mood. She tucked a few errant receipts back into the book and scrounged around in her purse for her keys. "Going to the garage after lunch?" That was what usually put her nephew in good spirits.

Jason's lips curled into a smirk, which he tried without success to hide against the rim of his black coffee mug. "Even better – I'm showing Elizabeth the garage after lunch."

Bobbie's eyes lit up at the mention of one of her favorite waitresses. She knew by now that whatever Jason's feelings for the young woman were, they far surpassed those of friendship. But if the two lovebirds weren't ready to admit that yet, she wasn't planning to push. After all, she knew what she knew and that was good enough for her. "Oh, Jason – does that mean it's completely ready?"

He nodded once, knowing that the happiness that shone through his aunt's wide green orbs was genuine even though the older woman would be sad to see him leave Kelly's. They met almost every day since he had moved in, and he had to admit he enjoyed spending time with his aunt. But once he moved out and business at the garage picked up once more, their visits would be cut short.

"Almost," he replied, taking another gulp of the scalding hot coffee in his hand. "Everything's ready as far as wiring goes, finally, but not all of the furniture has been moved in yet."

"Please tell me you've at least got a working bathroom, Jason," his aunt frowned, setting her hand on her hip in an extremely matronly way that touched him deeply.

He set down his mug and crossed his arms over his chest, his blue eyes twinkling down at her. "Yes, Aunt Bobbie. And a fridge, too."

She ignored his patronizing and nodded her head definitively. "Good. A growing boy like you can't live in a house where you don't even have a fridge. When are you moving the furniture in?"

He shrugged, the movement only a lethargic rolling of his broad shoulders. "I think I'll bring in a mattress before dark, see if I want to spend the night there. If not, I'll just come back here. I'm having the guys move the rest of the stuff in tomorrow morning. There's not much of it, so it'll be okay."

Bobbie nodded, a hint of sadness creeping into her eyes. She knew that Jason was an independent young man – he had been ever since he was a little boy trying to go straight from a tricycle to a two-wheeler with no training wheels in between – and that this was something he had to do. Still, she was going to miss him. "It will," she nodded with conviction. "It'll be better than okay – it'll be better than the first time." She graced him with a watery smile, then reached up to hug him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "You're going to do wonderfully, Jason, I'm sure of it."

He just smiled down at her and Bobbie rapidly blinked to clear her eyes of moisture. She was never comfortable with these blatant shows of emotion around Jason because she knew that he wasn't comfortable with it. "Well, I'll let you get back to…your plans. Have fun today."

Jason nodded his head and tugged at his ear, a boyish grin commanding his lips, and Bobbie paused for one last look at him before she left the diner. No sooner had she disappeared than Elizabeth could be heard hopping down the steps to the main floor. Since school was over, she had nothing pressing to do on her days off and was still dressed in a pair of cotton shorts and the Boywatch tank top that doubled as part of her pajama set.

By the time she saw him, the little brunette was already halfway to the counter and there was nothing she could do except to toss a hesitant little smile his way. Jason's eyes twinkled as he returned her silent greeting with ease, and the older man stuffed his hands into his pocket as he loped closer to her. Things had been a little awkward between them since that day on the bridge, and Elizabeth had made herself scarce. She was quiet while she worked, and as soon as her shift was over she ran to cloister herself in her studio. When she returned the next morning, her jeans would boast multi-colored specks of paint.

He settled on leaving her alone for a little while; after all, it was because of him that she had bolted. He had tried to kiss her and moved a little too fast, and he didn't really blame her for running scared. It was a confusing time, more so for her than for him. He already knew what he wanted – Elizabeth. He knew it without the shadow of a doubt; his life just would not be complete without the spunky little brunette and all her crazy quirks and idiosyncrasies.

Elizabeth, however, had no reason to feel the same way about him. And that was why Jason was going to show her – as he thought he had been doing for a while now – how he felt. And maybe, just maybe, if he was lucky enough…she'd feel the same way.

She was shifting her weight from foot to foot as he prowled up alongside her, and the way her bangs fell across her eyes made her look much younger than she was. "Hey."

"Hey," he replied smoothly, a crooked half-grin tugging at his lips. "Get dressed."

Elizabeth sputtered a little on the soda she had poured herself and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "What?"

"Get dressed," Jason replied simply, with no preamble as to what he had in store for them. "Meet me by my bike in fifteen minutes."

His smug smirk as he passed by intrigued her, and Elizabeth felt her face grow warm. This was the Jason Morgan that she was so used to – the Jason that was just her friend, nothing else, before everything got so complicated.

The past couple days had been just what she needed – an escape. First, she and Emily had a big blowout and then she had messed things up with Jason. She just couldn't help it; in that split second as his lips inched closer, she had lost it. A thousand thoughts whirled around in her head, having quite a dizzying effect as they fought for dominance. The scariest one of all was that maybe Emily was right – this had started out as a game, but somehow it had turned into something more. And she just wasn't ready to deal with that. And so she had avoided everyone for the past two days and just hid out in her studio, painting.

But this was different – somehow, things felt slightly more normal again. Just her and Jason, out on some as-of-yet unknown excursion. There was no harm in that, And besides, two days without a motorcycle ride was just pure insanity.

Biting her lip to contain an excited smile, she abandoned her soda on the counter and raced upstairs to get ready.

Jason's bike roared to a stop and he turned the ignition, killing the engine. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that Elizabeth was already wrestling with her helmet in her excitement to see where he had brought her. He took it from her wordlessly and deposited it into the cab, a smile tugging on his lips when he saw her looking past them with a look of pure wonder on her face.

"Here it is."

Her open-mouthed gaping turned into a full grin, and the brunette squeezed his shoulder excitedly before hopping off the bike. "Your garage! It's done!"

Jason nodded proudly and slid off the bike, stuffing his keys into his pocket as a light breeze tousled his hair. It was a warm, sunny afternoon, almost evening, and the sky was clear. Elizabeth wore a light, summery A-line dress that flared out from her narrow waist with a tiny flower print in pink and green, paired with a thin white cardigan. He had been a little concerned about her wearing it on the bike because of the wind, but she had insisted. After all, the little brunette informed him, it was brand new and she wanted an excuse to wear it. And by that time, she had already wormed out the details of their secret destination from him, and pointed out that it was perfectly suitable for her to wear this on her first visit to his home.

It was strange, but he hadn't really thought of the garage as home since he had lost it the first time. After that, he went straight to Jake's, which definitely wasn't home, and then went to work rebuilding. Maybe it was all due to the fact that he had literally crafted the abode with his own hands, laying down meticulous plans for each square inch and mapping it down to the last electrical socket in the kitchen. But the garage now was just an empty room consisting of four walls and a roof. There was nothing in it, not even his bed, and he still hadn't come to think of it as a home even though he might be sleeping in it tonight.

The one place he actually did remember having those nostalgic, white-picket-fence feelings about was Kelly's. It might have been a little crowded and busy, he might have had to share a bathroom with the other boarders – most of whom were women and in the habit of leaving their lotions and shower gels and shaving gels and God only knew what else around to stink up the whole place with the smell of flowers and cucumbers – but it was nice. And he had Elizabeth right next door. A few weeks ago, the realization that he thought of Kelly's as a home purely because Elizabeth was there with him would have scared him; but now he knew it as the truth.

"It looks great!" She was beaming with pride for him as the little brunette excitedly took his hand, urging him to show her around. "Tell me you're going to have grass put in."

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly as he instinctively gave her small hand a squeeze, remembering his conversation with his aunt after lunch. "Yes, I'm going to have grass put in."

"Hey!" The enthusiastic young woman was already moving on to other matters. "You know what you should do? You should paint your mailbox!"

Jason's brows furrowed. "Why?"

"Why?" Elizabeth repeated, quirking a brow at him. "Why did Michelangelo paint the Sistine chapel, Jason?"

"Because he was commissioned by the Pope."

She rolled her eyes and swatted his muscular chest with the back of her hand. "Fine, maybe technically, yes. Better question – why did Michelangelo sculpt the David?"

"Because the city of Florence identified with the underdog that David embodied, and Michelangelo used it to spur them on before the battle in which they cast off the rule of the Medici family."

Elizabeth was glaring at him out of the corner of her eyes, not giving him the satisfaction of receiving anything but her profile. "The other kids threw rocks at you when you were little, didn't they?"

He chuckled, a rusty sound that emanated from deep within his chest, and squeezed her small hand once more. "Why should I paint my mailbox?"

"You shouldn't," she huffed, irritated by his patronizing tone, and pouted at a scraggly tree on the perimeter of his property.

Jason smirked down at her and played with her small fingers, letting his thumb graze over the silver rings she wore. "Do you want to paint my mailbox?"

That was all it took for her face to light up. "Could I?" He nodded and she grinned happily, walking closer to him and shouldering him innocently, and Jason gave her the satisfaction of stumbling a step or two. "Oh, I know what I'll do with it – it's going to look great! It'll be white with a motorcycle print on both sides, and-"

"Morning, Mr. Morgan." A young man walked past them carrying an extra roll of insulation over his shoulder to a nearby truck that stood parked into the driveway. He looked quizzically at Elizabeth before something dawned on him, and the brunette blinked with confusion when he shot her a quick smile.

Brushing it off, she tried to remember what she had been saying as Jason led her around the monstrous truck to the side of the house where she spotted a large group of men. Some were talking into their phones, others were eating, and some were smoking. This had to be Jason's crew.

Elizabeth slowed her steps along with Jason's, whose natural, loping gait was easy to keep up with. Their hands remained clasped together and their arms brushed against each other up to their elbows. A little unsure in the presence of the almost overwhelming group of broad-shouldered, sweaty, gruff construction workers, Elizabeth's steps faltered and she lingered a little closer to Jason's side. Yeah, and she had insisted on wearing this dress, too – it made her stand out like a bull in a china shop in the presence of these He-Men.

But the young woman needn't have been worried or self-conscious; the men respected Jason and were well-aware of how he wanted those in his company to be treated and for the moment that meant the petite brunette at his side.

And the fact that they had assumed a while ago that she was his wife certainly didn't hurt matters any.

A white-haired man she would later know to be Francis Corelli was the first to spot the pair as they walked over. His pale gray eyes lifted from the sandwich he was polishing off and connected instantly with hers. Elizabeth's brows furrowed as the man quickly gulped down the last bite and nudged his friends, all of whom looked up in their direction as if they were witnessing the second coming of Christ. And the young woman didn't know what to make of it when they all quickly snuffed out their cigarettes and put on their shirts.

Jason barely seemed to notice and if he did, he didn't linger on it. He was clearly in search of a man that wasn't there – the foreman, Max, that she had heard about, perhaps – and languidly walked up to the large group. "Guys."

"Jason," came a chorus of greetings. Elizabeth lingered close to his side, directing a warm but slightly self-conscious smile at the men, who shuffled their feet.

"This is Elizabeth," he finally announced, giving up on finding his foreman.

The tension seemed to dissipate a little and the men smiled back at the woman, smirking a little at the way her fingers were so affectionately twined with those of their boss; the two really did make quite a cute couple.

"Has anyone seen Max?" Jason wondered, completely oblivious. "He specifically told me he'd be here-"

"He just stepped inside for a minute, Jason," Francis assured him as he turned to the building. "Hey, Max! Jason and Elizabeth are here!"

Though it struck her as odd that the strange man would use her name in such a familiar way, Elizabeth brushed it off. She was silly to feel awkward in this situation; the men seemed like a nice enough group and didn't treat her as if she were in any way out of place.

Jason's head turned at the sound of feet on the steps, and he nodded at the men as he left them, not noticing the way they tipped their head politely at Elizabeth.

Max Giambetti was the first to come out of the house as Elizabeth and Jason made their way around to the porch, and the brunette liked him instantly. He had this easy-going, jovial air about him, and the grin he seemed to always wear immediately put her at ease.

He held a clipboard in his hands and was thumbing through some documents on his way down the steps, but dropped it as soon as he saw his guests. "Morgan! There you are! I was wondering if you stood me up."

Jason just grinned and shook the man's hand, keeping his left one linked with Elizabeth's. "Hey, Max. I'll bet Kris will be happy that this place is wrapping up – you can actually go home and rest."

The contractor laughed at that. "Yeah, but she wants a new addition put in on the house, so…we'll see how much rest I get."

Elizabeth chuckled at that, drawing Max's black eyes to her slender form. The foreman smiled and instantly extended his hand, grasping hers firmly and giving it a good pump. "Mrs. Morgan, it's so good to finally meet you. I bet you can't wait to see the end result of Jason's work here. And don't worry – because we won't keep you waiting. Time to show the lady of the house around; Follow me, please."

Both Jason and Elizabeth stood rooted to the ground as the foreman trotted up the steps, swinging his clipboard in his hand. The tall mechanic glared at his friend's back, grinding his teeth. The idiot thought they were married. Next to him, a flushed Elizabeth was having similar thoughts. That explained why the men seemed to stand at attention when she came by.

The thought was oddly empowering in the way it amused her, and she couldn't help the cheeky little grin that made her lips curl. Jason chose that moment to glance warily down at her, a little fearful of her reaction, and Elizabeth's eyes glittered as she grabbed his hand and pulled him up the steps after Max.

After all, the lady of the house couldn't be kept waiting.

"That's about all there is," the foreman sighed with satisfaction as he slowly turned on one heel, glancing up at the ceiling. "We've covered pretty much everything except this wing over here. Now this," he smacked his palm against the threshold of one of the smaller rooms, "could be used as an office. That's what you said, right, Jason?"

The man nodded tensely and absently, glancing down at his 'wife' who seemed to be having way too much fun at his expense. As Max had shown them around the garage, she had made sure to coo over every little thing, and to inform him about every two minutes that they were just going to have to put a potted plant in the corner, or a little bench in the hallway, and a nice mirror in the foyer. And if on some level he didn't find it absolutely endearing, he would have been pretty irritated by now.

Her small fist punched his side, her way of telling him that she knew she was taking it over the top and would cease and desist for his sake. Jason couldn't help but chuckle as he looped his arm over her shoulder, as if it was the most natural thing to do.

Max was already pointing out another spare room. "This one is probably the smallest in the house – it might make a good sewing room. My wife's into sewing – are you, Elizabeth?"

She had long since told him to call her by her first name – Mrs. Morgan was just too formal, after all – and Elizabeth was pleased that he actually did as she requested. "Not really; I'm more into painting."

"Well, it would make a great studio, then," Max suggested amicably as he leaned against the doorjamb. "Since it's in the corner, you can catch the full effect of the sunrise in here, but still be able to get some of the sunset as well. You painters – always about the lighting."

The brunette smiled back at him, fighting the urge to laugh. "Oh, yeah – definitely all about the lighting. And it would make a good studio, don't you think, dear?"

At least she had stopped calling him Pookie. "Yeah, sure." As soon as Max's back was turned, he shot her a scolding glare, but the young woman just stuck her tongue out at him. Jason pursed his lips into a thin line but his eyes belied his amusement and Elizabeth rolled her eyes with a relenting sigh, promising once more to be good.

"That about does it," Max repeated, tapping his free hand on the clipboard he still held. "Oh, wait – I forgot to show you the last one."

Elizabeth looked up at Jason curiously, but the tall mechanic only shrugged indifferently in reply. Max was already ushering them down the hallway, and when he pushed open the last door, the brunette gasped audibly.

It was a simple room, like all the others, but the brilliant explosion of the setting sun painted the room in a soft pink and dazzling orange palette. The windows were open and a soft, clean breeze passed freely through the room. There was a ceiling fan that turned on with the flip of a switch, and Elizabeth immediately noticed a beautiful bay window complete with a wooden window seat.

"Wow," she breathed, letting go of Jason's hand for the first time and stepping into the center of the room. "It's beautiful."

Max slid a pleased glance Jason's way, but the young man wouldn't quite meet his gaze as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and shuffled into the room. This was the one he had actually planned to make his office – the one that Max described as being such would most likely be his weight room. But the foreman had forgotten, although it was no big deal.

Elizabeth was standing by a window, closing her eyes as the breeze swept into the vibrant room. "I love this one."

The foreman was grinning proudly. "Yup, catches the sunset each night, and it's right next to your studio." He said it with such familiarity that Elizabeth couldn't bear the thought of telling him that she wasn't actually going to be moving in any time soon. "We've got one like this at our place, too. Right when I started drawing up our plans, Kris told me she wanted a simple room at the end of the hallway – right next to the master bedroom – that caught the sunset. We made it our nursery."

Elizabeth's eyes widened at the suggestive, slightly teasing note in the gregarious foreman's voice and whipped around to see that Jason was also staring him with what seemed to be a look of abject horror on his face. But Max paid him no mind and instead looked around the room, still smiling broadly and proudly as he surveyed his work.

"Yup, worked out wonderfully," he declared. "It's always dark in the morning, so the baby isn't disturbed and we don't have to worry about turning down the blinds at night or drawing the curtains. And in the summer, it gets excellent cross-ventilation there, with the windows on the two walls instead of one, so it stays nice and cool. And at night, we can just leave the windows bare and let the moonlight stream in. Caity loves the moon." He nodded proudly once more and would have continued, but he could hear one of his men calling out for him. Shooting Elizabeth a bold wink as he clapped Jason on the back, Max moved for the door. "Yup, this place would make a great nursery."

His footsteps echoed down the empty hallway as Jason and Elizabeth just stared at each other, both unable to make the first move. The brunette stood at the far end, by the window, and had begun to nervously wring her hands together as Jason's gaze all but devoured her. The temperature had spiked the second Max said the word 'nursery', and her mind raced to come up with something neutral and altogether unthreatening to say.

Jason's nostrils flared as Elizabeth licked her lips, her sapphire eyes darting around the room. "I, uh…I can't believe they thought we were married."

She was desperately searching for a way out and he gave it to her – for the time being. A boyish grin made his lips curl as he loped closer, his gaze moving from her slender form to the vivid sky. "Well, you calling me 'Pookie' didn't help."

Elizabeth giggled wickedly at that, leaning her hip against the wall as Jason slid down onto the bare window seat. The first thought that occurred to her just then was to suggest that he put a couple bright pillows there to liven it up, but she quickly shook it away. "Oh, relax – you are so uptight."

"Did you have fun with that?" he drawled, quirking a brow humorlessly at her though his unearthly blue eyes continued to twinkle. "You looked like you were ready to get out some photos of our wedding day and pull out the slideshow of us on our honeymoon."

She grinned smugly down at him. "You should have seen your face, Morgan – I've never seen it that red. You're really cute when you blush."

"I don't blush," he sputtered vehemently, a little flustered with the laughter gleaming in her sapphire orbs. "I have never blushed."

"Oh, you were blushing down there, my friend," she snickered. "And when Max said 'nursery' – man, I thought for sure your head would explode."

He glared sullenly at her and then at the room. "Nursery. What was that idiot thinking?"

"Hey, now," Elizabeth stopped him, putting up her hand. "He's not that far off track; I could actually see this being a nursery."

Jason was staring at her as if she had lost her mind. "What the hell are you talking about?"

The brunette shrugged. "I'm just saying that it seems like the right size, the right location, everything. Look, you probably don't know her, but there was this woman named Tammy that used to manage Kelly's a while back, until she and her husband Mike had their first child. She was really sweet to me, and I offered to help her decorate the nursery. I told her that me and the girls would help her pick furniture and that I could paint any theme she wanted, if she decided that she hated the idea of wallpaper."

He listened silently and slid over a little on the window seat, offering her a spot, but Elizabeth remained standing. Casually, she pushed herself away from the wall and wandered back into the center of the room.

"That was the most incredibly fun thing I've ever done," the brunette informed him. "The room was basically Mike's storage room – he had all these boxes filled with files and papers, and we got him to move that up to the attic so we'd have room to play around. It was like looking at a blank canvas."

Her eyes were glowing as she spun around once, taking in the room, and Jason could see the artist in her already coming up with a thousand different ways to decorate the barren room. The fertility of her imagination never ceased to amaze him; creativity flowed through her veins, and she was just like him in the sense that she looked at one thing and saw something completely different.

"She gave me free reign with the room after telling me a little bit about what she had in mind. I got to play around with it – it was all mine. First, I painted the room this really pale shade of pink – like this one, here." Her soft fingers caressed a spot on the wall where the sun's rays hit, and Jason followed their movement as if in a trance. "It was going to be a girl, April Grace, and I wanted a really soft look to it. I had the trim painted white, and the windows, and I picked out a matching white dresser, changing table, and crib."

She was motioning to where the different pieces of furniture had sat in the room she designed, and Jason couldn't speak a word.

"Then, since Tammy really like rabbits, I stenciled bunnies all over the walls. Then I drew clouds on the ceiling, and got this nice stars-and-moon mobile for the crib. Right above the trim, I painted grass in a really soft green that offset the pink very well, and I drew so that it looked like the bunnies were jumping over little fences at odd parts in the room. You know – like counting sheep when you want to get to sleep." She was smiling fondly at the memory and Jason's throat constricted at the way her eyes glowed.

"Tammy was so happy. You should have seen her. She brought in all the stuffed animals she and Mike had gotten for the baby, and all the clothes – everything had bunnies on it, believe it or not – and we just barely made it before April was born. It was the most incredible thing I've ever done – just the idea that my art actually became part of someone's home was so amazing, you know? I want to be able to do that again sometime."

Her dress swayed around her nimble frame in the soft breeze, and lacy tendrils of her hair fluttered in the air, making her look like a fairy. Her words, soft and intimate, rolled through his head and Jason swallowed, his fingers gripping the edge of the window seat.

"Do you- Do you want kids of your own?"

If she was surprised that he had asked that question, she didn't show it. In fact, unbeknownst to him, her silent reverie had led her to that point exactly. "Someday," she replied, tucking her hair behind her ear as she gazed around the room. "I hope. That is, if I don't chicken out of it first."

Her light laughter troubled him and Jason frowned up at her. "Why would you chicken out of it?"

She shrugged helplessly. "You know how my parents are – they've been that way their whole life. Steven and Sarah were always the perfect ones, the ones they had planned. One boy, one girl, both blonde and doctors. And then I came along – I was unplanned, a problem from the start. I know they love me in their own way, but they never showed it the way I guess I wanted them to. And part of me has always wondered, if I become a mother one day…"

"If you'd turn out like them," he finished without a moment's hesitation.

Her solemn eyes, widening a little, landed squarely on him. "Yeah."

Jason dipped his head at her breathless reply, sensing the silent question. "I'm the same way. My father had an affair with my mother and left her for the woman he was planning to marry. He was never a part of my life, even though he did send me Christmas and birthday cards every now and then. I threw them all away without reading them."

Her eyes softened as she watched him speak, her fingers trailing lightly over her collarbone to fiddle with her necklace.

"When my mother died, I was pretty much on my own. I mean, I had my Aunt Bobbie, my mom's sister, but I didn't really want to go to her. I wanted to do everything myself, to prove to myself and to everyone else that I could make it without anyone's help or…"

"Love," she supplied quietly. "Yeah, I know how that goes."

"And I did," he responded evenly. "I never needed anyone in that way – I've never loved anyone that way." The words 'until now', exposing his greatest vulnerability, were on the tip of his tongue but stalled there, and Jason couldn't force them out. "And like you, part of me has always wondered if I'll end up just like my father – emotionally detached from my own children in every way that matters."

Her palms were clammy and she rubbed them together as the last rays of the fading sun reached into the dim room. Elizabeth moved soundlessly over the hardwood floor until she was at his side, and then slowly lowered herself onto the window seat.

"You know what I think?"

He was staring at a point on the wall. "What?"

A lop-sided smile spread across her lips and she tilted her head at him. "I think, a few years down the line, that this place is going to be a nursery no matter how much you protest."

Jason laughed at that, relieved to be momentarily freed from the oppressive gravity of their conversation. But Elizabeth was serious.

"You're a good person, Jason," she got out quietly, setting her elbows on her knees and propping her chin in her hands. "And I don't think you have it in you to be emotionally detached from the people that matter to you."

The mechanic cleared his throat gruffly, a little embarrassed at the fact that Elizabeth had to console him and more than ready to change the subject. "So…what do you want to do to this room?"

She looked at him, wide-eyed. "Who, me? Oh, I don't want to-"

He cut her off with a quick grin. "You knew what you wanted to do to this room since the minute you stepped in here, Webber," he chided. "I can always tell when you lie, remember?"

The brunette rolled her eyes, a sheepish grin now curling her lips. "Fine. You really want to hear it?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't."

"Well…" A faint blush tinged her cheeks as she looked around the room. "I'm seeing ships."

"Ships."

She nodded. "Mm-hmm. The trim is going to be mottled white, and the walls are going to be varying shades of blue. There'll be an ocean, with all these colorful little sailboats going around the room. The top part will be lighter, because it's the sky, and the ceiling will be the same color. And of course, I'll have to draw big puffy clouds. Ooh – maybe a lighthouse in that corner. And as for the bottom part, under the trim to the floor, it'll be darker blue, and there can be fishes. I'm seeing lots of clown fishes – a really vibrant red-orange color. Maybe one shark, but it has to look friendly. And the furniture will be white – I've always preferred white furniture for nurseries – and I think it'd be cool to stencil in some sailboats on the dresser, some fish on the changing table, you know, that sort of thing."

The brunette finally finished and looked at him expectantly. "What do you think? I mean, I know you're not that into aesthetics, but…"

Holy hell, she hadn't realized how close he was. She could practically smell the faint remnants of his aftershave.

Jason's eyes gazed directly back into hers. "I think…it'd be nice. If you did it."

The compliment made her heart swell, mostly because she knew that Jason didn't just throw his words around like so much confetti. "Yeah?"

He nodded once, almost imperceptibly, as his piercing eyes drifted down to her bottom lip, the one she was currently nibbling on. "Yeah." Jason's breath rustled past his lips as he shifted slightly, and the heat emanating from his body seeped into Elizabeth's. "What if it's a girl?"

Her head was swimming. None of this made sense; she had no idea how they had gotten here. But she couldn't stop the reply that instantly sprang to her lips. "An enchanted meadow with three fairy godmothers, a bunch of woodland creatures, and a beautiful castle in the distance."

Jason's lips curled into a slow, sexy smirk at her quick answer that lacked any hesitation, and she held her breath as he inched closer. "Just as good."

His breath brushed over her lips, mingling with hers, and Elizabeth's heart jumped to her throat. Jason was only a scant distance away, his eyes focused on her plush lips, and it was as if every single muscle in her body had frozen. Her raven lashes fluttered as her lower lip trembled, and Elizabeth let out a soft, shuddery sigh as Jason's mouth met hers in a feather-light caress so tender that it stole her breath away.

The back-firing of the truck directly beneath their window shot her back into reality, and Elizabeth pulled away from Jason so quickly that for a moment the older man didn't even realize what had happened. His confused, stormy eyes met her wide, fearful ones and he was about to reach for her when Max appeared in the doorway.

"Hey, folks," he called out jovially, not picking up on the tension that flooded the room. "Jason, I just wanted to let you know that we're clearing everything out of here, and that the furniture is coming around eight tomorrow morning. You two have a good night."

With that, he turned and walked down the empty hallway, whistling to himself, leaving Jason and Elizabeth alone with their hammering hearts and oppressive silence.

The brunette was the first to move, and she stood up on shaky legs and tried to smooth the imaginary wrinkles from her dress. She wouldn't quite look Jason in the eye as she moved for the door, still wringing her hands together. "I, uh, I think we should get going."

Her shoes clicked down the hallway that Max had just disappeared down, and Jason was left alone in the empty, stark white room.

Elizabeth wrapped her arms around her middle and kept up her brisk pace as she half-walked, half-trotted over the sidewalk. It was late and the night was cooler than most, and instead of curling up in her room with a good book and her Guys and Dolls album, she was scurrying down the fricking road to the last place in the world she thought she'd go tonight.

Jason had taken her back to Kelly's and they hadn't spoken a word since. She didn't even know what to say. Nothing in her head made sense anymore; it was all a jumble of crazy, mixed-up thoughts, none of them even remotely coherent.

And it was all her fault.

She had no idea how one thing had led to another back at the garage. She wasn't supposed to say those things; they weren't supposed to do those things. It was too surreal, too…terrifying.

She wasn't supposed to let it get this far.

Hell, she wasn't supposed to feel this way.

But the fact remained that she did. And there was absolutely no use in denying it anymore. She couldn't stomach the lies she told herself anymore, but she didn't know how in the world she was supposed to face this.

And in her utter lapse of control and self-possession, she was seeking out the one person that wouldn't be afraid to knock her down and kick some sense into her.

Johnny O'Brien frowned at his wife as she hunkered up on the corner of the couch, pouting at the rerun of I Dream Of Jeannie currently being shown on TV Land. "You're being childish."

"I don't care," she snipped, tugging at the hem of the dark green shirt of his she had borrowed to wear with her pajama shorts.

Her husband crossed his arms over his chest. "You two have never been mad at each other this long."

"First time for everything," she replied haughtily without even looking at him.

With a scowl, Johnny marched over to the end table and picked up the cordless phone, returning only to wave it in front of his wife's face as she tried to watch television. "Call her."

"No."

"Call her."

"No!"

"Em-"

"Don't you start with me, Johnny O'Brien."

"Look," he sighed, sinking down on the couch next to her. "I know you two. You're almost sisters, and you have been since long before you and I even met. You and Elizabeth need each other, and I don't like to see you two fighting." He scratched the beginnings of his dark beard when she refused to reply. "Plus, since you don't have her to talk to anymore, you talk to me, and frankly, I can't deal with that."

That got a smirk out of her before she reached for a pillow and beaned him in the face. Johnny ducked and managed to click off the TV and capture his wife in his arms. "Call. Her."

"No," Emily replied firmly. "She told me to butt out of her life, and that's what I'm doing. If she's going to be so dense that she can't even see that Jason loves her – and that she loves him – then…forget her."

"You don't really want that for her," Johnny remarked knowingly. "You want her to be happy, Em. Give it a shot – call her."

"She said I was playing mind games on her," the redhead scowled, wrapping her arms around her bare knees. "Well, she can just go soak her head because from now on I'm playing my mind games on someone else."

Johnny just looked at her for a long moment before shaking his head. "You know, you have way too much time on your hands. I should just…I don't know…get you pregnant or something."

That was enough to get a reaction out of his spirited wife, and the newspaper editor couldn't help the laughter that escaped him as the petite redhead tackled him to the floor.

"What did you say!"

He rolled with her over the pale tan carpeting, letting her pin him to the ground so that she could sit on his chest and pretend to try to choke him. "You heard me," he sputtered, unable to suppress a grin as she fisted her hands in the fabric of his shirt and jerked his head off the floor. "At least then you'd be putting your energies to good use."

"Chauvinistic son of a- Hey!" She squealed when his strong arms wrapped around her shoulders and wrestled her to the floor, and Emily's fists beat against his broad chest. "Leggo! Jerk! I'm telling Mama O'Brien – she likes me better, anyway!"

"Go ahead, tell her," Johnny sneered playfully, reaching down to capture his wife's wrists in his large hands. "She's always asking you when you're going to give her a grandchild, anyway!"

Emily cussed when he managed to pin her wrists to the floor above her head, and Johnny smiled victoriously as he leaned down to brush his lips sweetly against hers. She was laughing underneath him but trying desperately hard to hide it, and as soon as he loosened his hold on her wrists she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close.

A knock at the door barely registered the first two times it sounded, but when the knocking turned to flat-out pounding, Johnny pulled back with a groan. Emily was scowling as well, and reached down to pull her shirt into place as soon as her husband rose off of her. "I'll get it," she muttered, rolling to her hands and knees in order to stand up and sprint to the foyer. "And it better be fucking good because otherwise-"

The redhead wrenched the door open furiously only to blink in surprise when the watery eyes of her best friend stared back at her. Her mouth dropped open and she could only stand there, gaping at Elizabeth as the brunette ran a trembling hand through her hair.

"I think you're right," she got out in a low, tearful voice that sounded so completely helpless that Emily just wanted to hug her. "I'm in love with him."