A whisper, icy and upsetting, trembled down his spine.

It was nothing he wasn't used to, the sensation had occurred several times during his lifetime and Sonny Corinthos figured by the time he was dead he would have experienced it on other occasions as well.

Sonny found himself thinking of a man who could have been the greatest threat of them all. The vulnerabilty that memory aroused was irritating and he did what he always had when taunted with the thought of his old friend. He shoved it aside.

He took a sip from the champagne flute in his hand and brushed a kiss over his wife's cheek, half-listening to whatever it was she mumbled on about with her parents.

You would think after five years of marriage everyone would have gotten the point. Emily wasn't the innocent that everyone wanted to believe she was. It was a façade that could still annoy him occasionally. Like this gallery, for some reason she wanted to play at society princess, like her grandmother. He could have told her that she had a long way to go before she measured up to that great woman, but he didn't want to hurt her feelings.

She turned and smiled at him, "Isn't that right Sonny?"

"Yeah," he agreed, not knowing what the hell she was talking about. He allowed his gaze to wander the room to the lovely blond that had caught his eye earlier.

Perhaps he should...

Yet there was that annoying sensation again, that bore just the hint of warning.

Maybe tomorrow.

A whisper, chilly and painful, trembled down her spine.

It brought back old memories that didn't bear thinking on. Memories of a brother she had cut from her life and didn't once look back. Emily Corinthos brought the champagne flute to her lips and took a sip, while giving her husband a discrete glance. She wasn't stupid, after five years, she knew when he was listening to her and when he was simply humoring her. Following the direction of his gaze, she almost sneered in disgust.

Well, wasn't that just like his faithless ass?

The least he could do was keep his mind off his damned pants for tonight, it was after all, important to her. She was sick of being treated like a social pariah. Sick of the whispers and newspaper articles. Sick of the pitying looks of her family. The last thing she wanted to hear was a very pointed 'I told you so,' regarding the man she married.

The little blond that Sonny had his eye on would be exactly what he deserved. Someone must have coined the phrase "Her father's daughter" with Lulu Spencer in mind. She would chew Sonny up and spit him out and he would deserve it.Secretly, Emily would enjoy watching him get what he had coming.

Emily, glanced around the gallery, remembering Liz, and feeling just a bit guilty for having practically abandoning her at the door. She had after all convinced her to come tonight, for moral support.

Maybe she was getting just as selfish as her mother claimed she was. The she mentally rolled her eyes at that thought.Of course she wasn't selfish.Hadn't Sonny always told her that she was the most compassionate woman he had ever known?

Emily figured Liz would enjoy tonight, after all, she was an artist before she decided to switch gears and become a nurse.

A night at the gallery without Cameron, who was at the sitter's, would be nice for the overworked single mom. They didn't see each other as much as they did before she married Sonny. Life seemed to have gotten in the way, but Liz always had a smile and a shoulder of unconditional support for her and Emily had needed that tonight.

"I'm going to find Liz," she murmured to Sonny and he nodded distractedly, barely taking his eyes off the current object of his obsession. Rolling her eyes, she released a short sigh and walked toward the last place she had seen Liz, over by the private area with the collection of donated artwork that her assistant had gathered.

Emily sneered at Carly Jax who held court on the other side of the room as she made her way across the crowed floor. The woman smiled jauntily, waving, as if she had not a care in the world. Perhaps if she kept her children at home and didn't push them off on Sonny so much,Carly wouldn't have anything to be so happy about.

Michael was a terror, a smart ass with no respect for the adults raising him andgrowing up to be exactly like Sonny. Morgan was a little deviant, who liked to sneak around the compound and jump out of dark corners on unsuspecting victims. Kristina, well, she wasdark and morosemost of the time, probably terrified that Alexis would punish her if she dared to have fun.

When had these children turned into such horrors?

"Liz?" She glanced around the empty space, then back into the gallery, knowing that she couldn't have passed her. "Liz?"

A whisper, cold and poignant, trembled down her spine.

From the corner of her eye, a memory flickered briefly. A woman dressed in a black dress pulling the hand of a dark blond haired man through a door. The long stride. That handsome profile.

It was impossible.

"Sam? What's wrong?" She turned her gaze to her husband who had a comforting hand around her waist and leaned into him.

"Nothing," she smiled for him and her mother who she had been discussing schools with. Couldn't she just let it go for one night? Danni was only three years old and already Alexis was pushing toregister her in the same all girl academy that Molly attended. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene there in public but her mother could be exasperating at times.

First, she had to accept her Cassadine heritage. This wasn't so bad, because she got Nikolas as a cousin. They had become good friends over the years and in turn allowed her to get to know Lucky.

In the beginning, shehad felt a little guilty dating Lucky while he was separated from Liz. He had assured her that their marriage was over and sure enough, when the divorce came through he proposed.

Her life was good; she had a husband that loved her. They owned a private investigative service, McCall and Spencer, which was doing well. It helped that Alexis and Ric funneled clients their way. Working with the district attorney's office and the Lansing private practice was good business. She even got her dream, her little girl that she named for her brother, Danielle.

If she often wondered about what might have been, she only had to feel Lucky's arms around her to let that thought go. She had a good life.

If only her mother would shut up every once in a while.

"I see Emily," she smiled, the two of them had remained friends over the years despite everything that had happened in the past. "I'm going to say a quick hello." Lucky nodded distractedly, half listening to her and half to Alexis. She hated to leave him trapped with her mother, but he seemed very tolerant of the woman. Emily was also alone at the moment, not with Liz Webber, so it was an ideal time. Sam's steps took her quickly across the room to the secluded area where Emily stood.

"Liz?"

GreatEmily was looking for the very woman she was hoping to avoid.

"Emily is something wrong?" Sam stepped into the room and felt her heart stutter to a complete stop.

"I was looking for Liz. It's like she just vanished," she heard the woman say, it sounded like her voice came from down a tunnel, because her sole focus had narrowed in on the painting against the wall.

She had seen it before.

At the penthouse, stored beneath a cloth in Jason's closet. When she asked what it was, he had shrugged and said that Liz had painted it for him. At first, she had wanted to ask if he wanted to put it on the wall, but from his quiet expression, she figured that maybe it was a memory that he didn't want to share. That had been fine with her, she had plenty of reminiscences that she preferred to keep to herself and she didn't need to know everything about his past relationships.

She had been confident in their love for each other. At least most of the time anyway. One afternoon while he was down at the coffee warehouse, unable to resist the temptation she had peeked beneath that cloth to find a painting that left her slightly wary. The blue had been exactly the varying shades of Jason's eyes. She didn't understand what the significance of those brush strokes, but it was obviously something important to them both. Important to Jason, because after he left, when she checked the closet the painting was gone.

Seeing it here, in this gallery tonight, when she thought...

It was impossible.

Jason never would have risked coming back to Port Charles, not after everything that happened with Sonny five years ago. Not after his relationship with Emily disintegrated.

Not after she refused to leave with him.

"I wonder where Liz went, it isn't like her to just disappear. She would have at least said good bye before going home."

Not if Liz left with a ghost.

He was here. It wasn't just a shimmer of memory. That long confident stride, that handsome face.

Jason was in Port Charles and he hadn't come for her.

A whisper, warm and tender, trembled down her spine.

"Are you sure you want this."

Elizabeth looked down at her sleeping son on the couch next to her, then up into the blue eyes thatwere as soft as a caress. The plane had just started its taxi down the runway and the pilot informed them that they would arrive in Venice by tomorrow afternoon. She felt her heart hammering in her chest. It wasn't fear. It wasn't uncertainty.

For the first time in years, it was excitement.

"Yes." She reached up and touched his face, "Yes Roman. This is what I want."