Hey! Update. Just one chapter this time. Have fun Thanks for the great reviews!!
A/N: Manipulating a little GH history here. Jason was never involved with Robin but he did take care of Michael for the year. Explantions about that, and how he met Sonny, will come later within the story.
Rated: M
Disclaimer: I don't own the GH characters, any originals are mine as well as the story.
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Falling Into You
Be Still My Beating Heart
As she approached the open doors of Luke's, the music spilling free, smooth jazzy, was different from the normal blues that typically played here. The steady rhythm of a snare drum and hi-hat, a deep bass guitar and the achy melody of a piano accompanied a feminine alto in a combination that sent shivers down her spine. It took a moment before she recognized the song, and when she did, it made her drag in a shaky breath. Drowning in a sea of emotion that she couldn't understand.
Chilled she wrapped the navy pea coat tighter around her and stepped inside the darkened club, noting despite the music there were very few patrons inside. It was after one and late for her to be out but she had been back at her loft painting for hours and the adrenaline rush was still pulsing through her veins. The work, a study of the Port Charles harbor during it's busiest time of day, was almost complete but she got to the point where her muse was finished speaking to her and was forced to call it a night.
Hungry, she rinsed the paint from her hands and headed to the kitchen when the craving for fish and chips kicked in accompanied by the desire for a nice pint. A left over from the vacation in County Cork, Ireland that she and Robin had taken after completing a grueling residency. One of many places she had always dreamed of visiting. She had those plans written down in her journal.
Walking the green lands of Ireland. Swimming the Great Barrier Reef in Australia. The running of the bulls in Spain. Carnival in Brazil. Spring in Marseille. And crossing the canals of Venice in a gondola with the man she loved. The last, the best dream of all. Only she was beginning to worry if the last would come true.
Crossing to the bar, Elizabeth took a place toward the end where she could observe. The curvy redhead on stage continued to seduce the audience with her song.
"Hey darlin', what are you doing out so late? Don't you have school tomorrow?"
Elizabeth smiled up at the teasing voice that always made her feel welcome. "It hasn't been so long that you don't remember that there is no school on Saturday, Luke." The reprobate reached over and tenderly nudged her chin with a knuckle. Luke Spencer had welcomed her into his family with more genuine affection than her own father had ever shown her. Sometimes she wondered if she wasn't with Lucky for his family.
"Not that I'm not happy to see you, but where is that disappointment I call a son," he smiled and leaned on the bar, giving her a moment and allowing the other bartender to deal with the customers.
Luke and Lucky clashed on the best days. Lucky unable to accept the life his father led and his frequent absences from his children's lives and Luke's disgust with the fact that Lucky had become a cop and the sanctimonious attitude that even grated on her nerves sometimes made the relationship between father and son a pale imitation of what it used to be.
She could see both sides. Luke, admittedly, wasn't the best of fathers. Without Laura he just floundered in the raising of Lulu, given by her behavior and attendance of North Park but no one could ever doubt that he didn't love his children. Unlike a certain father she no longer claimed.
Lucky knew the man his father was. Growing up on the run with Luke and Laura Spencer had given Lucky all of his street smarts and adventures that most sons would love to have shared with his parents. Lucky seemed to eschew the love Luke had for them all because his father didn't behave the way Lucky felt he should. While Elizabeth thought he should be grateful that he had a father that even gave a damn about him.
"Lucky's working," she answered simply and chuckled at the expected roll of Luke's eyes and his sneer.
"Did I teach the boy nothing? Letting a beautiful woman go out to disreputable clubs alone in the middle of the night?"
"It's your club," she reminded him and that sneer turned into a full fledged Luke Spencer grin of mischief.
"Exactly," he answered with a lift of his brows and the ripple of mirth turned into peal of laughter.
Normally, she would have called Lucky but he was on duty tonight, some stake out at the docks. When she really thought about it, she wanted the time alone. He was pushing for her to set a date for their wedding and she was still hedging. Knowing she loved Lucky and taking that next big step were two different things.
When he had asked, setting the perfect romantic atmosphere at the gazebo in the park where they had walked the night of their first date, she had been excited and said yes. Lucky painted pictures of a wonderful life together full of laughter and love. Children. The family she had always longed for when she was growing up with disinterested parents and older siblings who always made her feel inadequate and it had been easy to surrender to the tempting images. Then time passed and the reality of being engaged, contemplating marriage set in and now she wasn't so sure.
So perhaps it was for the best that Lucky was so busy lately with this latest case he was working on. It gave her the opportunity to think about what she was doing. One thing was certain, this was the best painting she had done in months. There must be something to that tortured artist crap that she had sneered at during college.
"So what can I get you? And don't tell me you want one of those disgusting pints."
"Then I'll just tell Leo down on the other end," her mouth quirked with pleasure. She caught the other bartender's eye and gave him a flirtatious wiggle of her fingers in greeting. A large smile spread across his kind face before he winked in return. Luke glared at Leo over his shoulder and Elizabeth watched him quickly turn away but not before she saw his chest shake with laughter.
Groaning, Luke rolled his eyes, "Children, I swear, always such a disappointment. What happened to a nice single malt to take the chill off? This is a blues joint. Etta James, Diddley, Redbone. Not some pub in Ireland."
"But you always draw me the best Guinness darlin'," she gave him back the quick retort and there was a lightning of amusement between his lashes. "Now be a good lad and give me a pint and an order of fish and chips from the back."
This time he didn't even bother to restrain himself, he threw back his head and let out a burst of laughter that all could hear over the music from the stage. Finished, he caught her cheeks between both his hands and smiled with admiration, "Cowboy has no idea what he has in you does he?" He released her and shouted over to Leo, "You know what the girl wants, now go on in back and tell Claude to bring her a damned order of fish that she always wants."
Leo finished opening the long neck and set it and a napkin on the waitress' circular tray then wiped his hands on the towel at his waist before heading to the kitchen to put in her order. Elizabeth watched as Luke began filling the tall glass with the dark stout. "So you've been painting tonight?"
She looked down at the splatters of paint covering her bright orange low v sweater and the low rise jeans and lifted a brow, "I guess you can tell?" She hadn't even thought about how she looked, just slipped into her coat and the platform sneakers sitting by the door, grabbed her purse and left. The grumbling in her stomach had been most important.
"Well, the dark blue paint smeared on your cheek was my first clue. Then I saw the flecks of red in your hair."
"Uhh," released a tortured groan, well at least her hands were clean and she wouldn't poison herself while eating. She flushed with embarrassment and dropped her forehead onto her arms to hide the wash of heat on her face. "Just kill me now."
"Still beautiful darlin' you don't have to worry about that," he set the finished draft on the bar. "Now there's your pint. Your food will be out in a minute, so just listen to the music and forget about the fact that you look like you've been playing with a two year old."
Tilting her head to the side, she opened one eye to glare at him, which only made him laugh in return. "And since when do you allow Jazz in your sacred blues joint?"
"Only after midnight," he answered, "And besides, Jason wouldn't be caught dead playing in here unless the place is practically empty."
"Jason?"
She caught the echoing tones of the piano, haunting, alluring, matching the plaintive feminine voice and glanced over to the stage. Sure enough, near the back and in the shadows she caught the now familiar profile of Jason Morgan. The sight should have looked wrong somehow. A large man like Jason, so seemingly self contained, reserved, almost cold if not for the occasional warmth she glimpsed in those azure eyes, playing a piano. But it didn't.
For an entire week, she had tried not to watch him in the halls of North Park. Wednesday, he was introduced to the faculty during the weekly meeting and he nodded once, letting Principal Lansing inform everyone of his temporary substitute status. Lansing couldn't have been more disdainful in his remarks if he had come right out and said that the only reason Jason was there was because of his wife and Jason's DUI charge.
He wasn't rude, but neither did he welcome conversation and he certainly didn't reveal anything more about himself than the facts they all knew. He was the Quartermaine who didn't claim his family after his tragic accident. He owned a coffee business with Sonny Corinthos. Given the ruggedness and the vital power the emanated from his tempting form, and the aura of the forbidden that surrounded him, the rumors of mob involvement were certainly understandable.
Tonight he wasn't dressed in the simple but rich clothes he wore to North Park. Gone were the dark elegant sweaters and perfectly tailored pants, and in their place was the Jason Morgan that she remembered seeing around Port Charles on occasion.
Navy blue v-neck tee. Dark jeans. Taboo.
"Imagine my surprise when Lulu tells me that her new music teacher is none other than the secretive and occasional piano player Jason Morgan." Luke continued. "He normally plays at Down The Road but Lenny wasn't feeling well, arthritis getting to him tonight and Jason agreed to fill in for his midnight set. Guess he figured his secret was out anyway, so there was no need to hide. What I can't imagine is Jason Morgan teaching a room full of juvenile delinquents." He snorted with glee.
"I don't see why not," Elizabeth felt compelled to defend. From the whispers she had overheard from her Seniors, Jason Morgan was a pretty good teacher.
Naturally patient with the kids who didn't understand, he didn't talk down to them like most of the adults they were used to but there was a line they all knew not to cross. Where most authority figures in their lives commanded respect but gave them none, she had learned that the Seniors who took music gave Jason that respect because he had offered it in return. A sad lack in most of their lives.
"And don't call them juvenile delinquents, Luke, they have enough to deal with. Besides, did you forget that Lulu attends North Park?"
"Like I said, juvenile delinquents," he chuckled making her shake her head. "I know my kid Elizabeth. She might have Laura's angel face, but Lesley Lu is a Spencer through and through."
Elizabeth rolled her eyes, and took a sip of her pint, glancing stealthily over at Jason again. His handsome face was somber, but she could sense a certain contentment within him. It lingered around his sensuous mouth, in the imperceptible movement of his head as he brought forth the music that had touched something deep within her and made it pulsate with life.
Cold. Brain damaged. Emotionless. She knew the rumors and saw the idiocy in them. If anyone could see Jason Morgan now and the depthless peace on his face, they would know that there were aspects to this man that anyone would be fortunate to be given a glimpse of. Her lips parted, drawing a much needed breath into her lungs as her eyes lingered on his arms, the sinewy twist of muscle that stretched and pulled under the skilled motion of his fingers.
"I'm going to get a table, can you have my order brought over?" she murmured, picking up her drink and sliding from her stool. She turned away, missing the curious expression that crossed Luke's face and gathered her coat and purse, heading for a spot close to the stage.
Somehow she slid into the chair, setting the glass down without spilling it's contents because her eyes were fixated on the man, absorbed in the music. The last of the song trailed off and the few people in the audience signaled their appreciation with eager applause. She watched as Jason lifted a bottle from a chair sitting next to him, took a long pull, her throat drying at each swallow and wet her lips.
Awareness burned in her stomach as he licked the moisture from his mouth. He said something to one of the brass players, then turned in her direction. Caught staring, their eyes locked for an intense moment. His chest expanded, a flare of nostrils, signaled a deeply drawn breath and her heart lurched madly.
It was a purely sensual experience that should have made her feel guilty. She loved Lucky, they were engaged to be married, and in all the dates, all the intimate moments they shared, never had she experienced such a swift and violent excitement just by looking at him. Her breathing erratic, her body heavy and warm, she watched him rise fluidly from his seat. Their eyes never broke as he approached, his predatory gait sent heat to pool between her legs.
"Hey." The simple word should not have made her so nervous.
"Hi," she finally tore her eyes away, her hand shaking as she reached for her drink, needing some kind of prop to disguise her response to his presence. "You sounded great."
Blue eyes studied her, seductively roving from her face to the creamy expanse of her neck and breasts, then back to her eyes before answering, "Thank you." She wondered what thoughts went through his mind as he looked at her. If he was as attracted as she was. If his hands tingled with the need to touch like hers did.
"Would you like to sit?" she offered. Instead of answering he pulled out the chair opposite her and sat, leaning forward to brace his elbows on the table. "Um, Luke told me that you were covering for Lenny tonight. That his arthritis was bothering him and that's why you're playing. Not that it's not okay that you're playing because you sounded great, but Luke mentioned that you usually play at Down The Road. I guess it's a way of keeping your private life private. Not that there's anything wrong with you playing, but you just seem like the kind of person who doesn't like a lot of people in your business."
She could hear herself rambling, feel the blush rushing red across her face, but her mouth didn't seem to know how to shut up. Something flickered across his face, and boy did she hope it wasn't amusement, then his mouth curved with unmistakable tenderness.
"Do you normally talk that fast or am I making you nervous?"
Wrinkling her nose in disgust, she lifted her glass and pretended a nonchalance she didn't feel, "You wish."
"I'm just saying," he lifted a shoulder, refusing to drop the subject of her embarrassment, "You were on a roll there."
"And a gentleman wouldn't have mentioned it."
His expression stilled, something dark and enigmatic filling his eyes, "But then, I've never claimed to be one." The tense silence stretched and she wondered if he could hear her heart slamming against her ribs because it certainly roared in her own ears. "It's a little late for you to be out alone," he finally said and the words were enough to take some of the edge off.
"If one more man tells me it's too late for me to be out, I swear," she shook her head in growing annoyance, "I'm not a child, nor am I some hapless female who needs a man to protect her at all times." Nor did she want him to see her that way, though she couldn't quite figure out why.
"I didn't say that," he frowned briefly, then glanced down at his watch, "It's just after one and you're sitting here alone."
"Who says I'm alone?" she lifted a questioning brow, and Jason, the jerk, glanced around as if looking for someone to join her. "Fine, I'm here alone. Not that I have to explain myself to you," she began.
"Of course you don't," he immediately agreed.
"But I was painting tonight and when I finished I was feeling restless and hungry. So I came to Luke's because I know he stays open late and would be willing to fix me a meal," she explained, "Not that it's really all that late. It's Friday night, most people are usually out with friends or on dates on Friday nights."
"So why aren't you?" he weighed her with an inexplicable look.
"Why aren't I what?"
"Out on a date or with Friends. Luke's isn't exactly the kind of place I pictured you in." he relaxed back in his chair and she was keenly aware of his scrutiny.
"And why not, I don't look like a blues girl to you? Because that would be kind of insulting considering that you don't know me very well."
"You're right," he allowed, "So are you a blues girl?"
"Not really," she smiled, "But I love Luke's place, and I've learned to appreciate it, well some of it anyway. I still haven't learned to like the 'my man left me, my dog left me, I lost my job and I'm a broke down rambling soul' blues that Luke loves."
Jason grimaced at her off key singing, but the humor in his eyes took the sting off of it, "Not everyone can appreciate those lyrics," he made her chuckle.
"No I guess not," she brushed a strand of hair loose from her ponytail from her face. "Do you normally play the blues, or is jazz your preference?"
Jason seemed to consider for a moment, then shrugged, "As long as I like it, it doesn't really matter."
She felt a warm glow flow through her, as his answer seemed to mirror her own feelings about her art, "Good answer."
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The last thing he should be doing is sitting across from Dr. Elizabeth Webber and wondering what it would take to convince her to come back to his apartment with him and allow him to take her to bed.
After a week trying to get his bearings in a job that Jason never thought he would have to take, all he had wanted tonight was a ride before the weather grew too bad to take his bike out, a drink to take the edge off and his music. A quick stop in Luke's to talk to Lenny had him offering to cover the midnight set for the old man, as he watched Lenny rubbing his hands and the drawn line of pain around his mouth.
It was Friday and Elizabeth was right, most people were out but late Friday nights at Luke's weren't normally busy, as most people ventured out to Club 101 or the Cellar for entertainment. He didn't think he would see anyone who knew him, but looking up from the piano and into Elizabeth's vivid blue eyes, he didn't regret his choice.
She should have looked like a kid, dressed the way she was, that ponytail pulled long dark hair away from her beautiful face. It was a marked difference from the curls he had somehow grown accustomed to. Her ivory face was free from the usual enhancements that he remembered his ex-wife always wore, but Elizabeth didn't need anything to augment her gentle beauty. He liked the smooth silk of her skin, her full rosy mouth that he wanted to taste. Linger over. He had to admit though, the paint splatters were kinda cute.
Okay, he must have had one beer too many, if he thought smears of paint were appealing.
Only it demonstrated what he was beginning to find so appealing about this woman. She dressed how she liked, she didn't try to impress people, the Seniors he taught music to seemed to love her and he knew she was talented given his response to the mural on the wall by her office.
He hadn't been surprised to find the visceral response to her painting was a mere shadow of his feelings about the woman herself.
A waitress brought over a large basket of fried fish and French fries, along with several rolls, setting them down. Elizabeth gave an appreciative thank you and took a napkin spreading it across her jeans. "You're going to eat all of that?" There was enough food there to feed at least four people but she just laughed at him.
"Luke's answer to fish and chips," she gestured to the food, "You're welcome to join me, though I will admit to having finished off one of these dinners on my own." She grinned sheepishly, as she picked up a piece of golden battered fish and bit in. The moan that escaped had the blood heading straight to his groin. The blissful expression on her face made him jealous of a damned piece of fish. "Not the same as Murdoch's in Cork, but it does the trick every time."
Thinking past the arousal spearing through him was almost impossible, but the familiar name surprised him, "You've been to Murdoch's?"
Surprised joy lit her face making her even more beautiful, "I take it you have as well?"
He had spent many nights in Murdoch's, listening to Brenna Murdoch's heartrending voice and enjoying a meal. It was one of the things he loved, traveling from place to place, taking in the land and the history. Ireland had been one of his first stops the year he left Port Charles after losing Michael. Through his grief and pain, there was something about Ireland that had soothed him. "Yeah."
"I loved it there. Aidan and Cullen, the brothers who run Murdoch's, they were so kind to me and Robin while we were there. We stayed in this great bed and breakfast called Sidhe Hall while we were there."
"Maeve's place," he had stayed there as well. The elderly woman had been determined to mother him and stuff him with the best meals he had ever tasted.
"Yes. She made the best brown bread, didn't she?"
"Baked it fresh every morning," he remembered fondly.
"Wow," Elizabeth blinked, exhaling a long sigh of what he hoped was pleasure, "It's really a small world isn't it? Imagine the both of us having visited County Cork Ireland, knowing the Murdoch brothers, and Maeve O'Toole, what are the chances?"
Given the fact that he was extremely tempted to take a very big risk with this woman and that he was drawn to her in a way that he'd never experienced before, the chances were pretty damned great actually.
