Chapter Two
Dillon walked, in what he hoped looked like a casual manner, searching for Georgie. He knew she usually made rounds with her book cart in the afternoons, so he headed to the fifth floor, figuring she might be about halfway done her route. Instead of using the elevator, he headed for the steps, needing to collect his thoughts. He made it down two flights of steps and was once again hit by the tidal wave feeling. It was so intense, he had to sit down. When? he thought to himself. Was there a linear logic? When had he fallen in love with Georgie?
Dillon had had girlfriends before, technically. Girls who he had kissed, with whom he had gone through the motions of dating, or going steady (albeit for a short period of time), or whatever soon-to-be obsolete term was being used. Girls to whom he had been attracted, or who had been attracted to him, sometimes both at once. Once or twice, he had even cared about these girls. But mostly, it had just been about filling space, combatting boredom, having nothing better to do. He had never felt drawn to someone, had never needed a person instead of just needing something from them. Hell, he had never even really liked someone.
Until Georgie. Until the day when he had walked into a diner in this provincial little town his mother had dragged him to and a girl dressed in pink had grabbed him in a panic and kissed him. He'd felt something then, something magnetic, as though even if he had wanted to push Georgie away (he hadn't), he wouldn't have been able to - it was as though gravity had pulled them together.
He thought about what Emily had asked, if he would lasso the moon for Georgie. Dillon knew that he would, and not only the moon, he would lasso the stars, the sun, and every galaxy in the night sky if it would make Georgie Jones smile. He closed his eyes and envisioned hers. Warm, caring, with that look she gave him just before they kissed - that look that was half smile, half secret, and total trust. Dillon's heart pounded wildly in his chest as he swore to himself that he would never break that trust she had gifted him with.
He pulled himself back to his feet.
Emily and Zander cuddled on her hospital bed when a knock came on the door.
"Come in," Emily called out. The door pushed open and a tall, smiling young man entered the room. "Lucky!"
"Hey guys." Lucky walked toward them, looking happy. It was so wonderful, so incredibly beautiful, to see Emily sitting up and smiling, some color in her cheeks, when only days ago she had been white as a ghost, her eyes buried in shadows and scarcely able to speak. He sighed in relief.
"Lucky." Zander stretched out his hand. The two men hadn't always seen eye to eye, but as long as Zander had known Lucky, he had been nothing but protective of Emily, and that was something that Zander respected and appreciated to no end.
"Zander." They shook hands. "So, ah, you won't mind if I kiss your wife, will you?" Lucky grinned.
"Of course he doesn't," answered Emily quickly. "Get over here."
Lucky walked to the side of the bed and leaned down to kiss Emily's upturned cheek.
"Ooh, soft lips," she teased. "Zander, you might just have to share me with Lucky!"
"Never!" pouted Zander. Em and Lucky laughed. This was their banter, their history.
Despite often long periods of separation, they had been friends for more than half their lives, and in the lighter moments, they played off each other effortlessly.
"Hey, I'm no threat to you," Lucky laughed. Then a little more seriously,"unless you ever hurt Emily. Then there's nowhere in the world I can't find you."
"Hey man," Zander started to object, but Emily interrupted.
"Okay boys, that's enough chest puffing for today," she said.
They cracked up. "Chest puffing?" asked Zander.
"Yeah, you know, the male birds who puff up their chests and strut around... you remind me of them."
"Well then..." Lucky stood up straight and stuck his chest out, casting a superior look as
Emily and Zander laughed. Zander grew quiet. Ordinarily a statement like the one Lucky had made would have incensed him, but he was grateful for Lucky's devotion to Emily. He looked at the man who, in lieu of Emily's father, had literally given him Emily's hand in marriage.
"Lucky," he began. "I love Emily with all of my heart. And I know how much history you two have, how special she is to you. I promise you I'll always take care of her and be good to her."
"I know that," Lucky replied in an equally serious tone. "I trust you."
"Thank you."
The two men looked each other in the eye, affirming their trust in each others devotion to the young woman who sat in the bed watching them, looking touched, amused and proud, all at the same time.
"I wish I had an apple to feed to your white horses," Emily joked, breaking the serious mood. Lucky and Zander joined in. The atmosphere relaxed. Lucky turned toward the nightstand and saw the collection of movies.
"Hey, what's all this?" he asked.
"Oh, my cousin Dillon - Ned's brother - brought them by," Emily told him. She and
Zander laughed gently, remembering Dillon's daze at his realization about his feelings for Georgie.
"Oh man..." grinned Zander.
"What?" Lucky encouraged.
"My cousin," Emily supplied, "is learning what it means to have your heart swept away."
"Eh?" asked Lucky, then recalled seeing Dillon around town on a few occassions. "Oh that's right, he's going out with Georgie, right?"
"Yeah. Oh my god, Lucky it was so cute. He was saying that he liked Port Charles more than he expected or something, but he had this Grin - you know it - so I tease him, saying
"I think you're kinda liking Georgie Jones."
Zander and Lucky laugh at Em's imitation of her own sly tone. She waves them off and continues. "Yeah yeah yeah. So I say that and he smiles - sort of cocky, you know? But then all of a sudden he gets this Look, this dazed almost terrified look. I swore I thought he was gonna faint or something. Then he just gasps out, "I think I'm kinda loving Georgie Jones."
"Poor kid looked like he'd been hit with a sledgehammer," added Zander.
Lucky laughed affectionately. He had known Georgie since she was a baby - she had been born at Luke's for crying out loud. She had grown up into an intelligent, pretty young lady. The idea of someone falling in love with her made him feel touched. And, he realized, old. He sighed.
"Seriously, Lucky, it was the sweetest thing I've ever seen since that day in the phot-"
"Photography studio, looking for clues about your blackmailer," Lucky filled in quietly, remembering. "When you dressed Elizabeth up in that ballgown."
"Exactly." There was a silence as they thought about how much they had been through together. Then Zander spoke up.
"Hey Lucky, do you think you could stay with Emily for a while? I have something I need to take care of."
"Yeah of course," assured Lucky.
"Where are you going?" Emily asked her husband, turning her head so he could kiss her lips.
"It's a surprise," he told her, and laughed when she pouted. He kissed her cheek. "I'll be back soon." He got up and headed to the door. Lucky held up one finger to Emily and followed Zander into the hall.
"Zander, is everything okay?"
"Yeah man, everything's fine," Zander assured. He lowered his voice. "Don't say anything to Emily yet, but I'm meeting a realtor about getting us a house."
"Wow." Lucky was thrilled. This was a symbol of Emily's miraculous recovery.
"Congratulations."
"Thank you." They shook hands, then Zander took off down the hall and Lucky reentered the room. Emily grinned at him.
"You don't have to babysit me, Lucky."
Lucky smiled, feeling a pang remembering the time Elizabeth had said the same thing to him, after she'd been raped and was too scared to sleep. That time seemed so long ago.
He let the feeling go and smiled wider.
"Well, maybe I want to spend some time with my best friend," he said. Em smiled as he took a seat on the bed, facing her.
"That day in the studio," she began, continuing the conversation from a few minutes before. "I'll never forget that day." Lucky smiled and raised his eyebrows, urging her to continue. "Your eyes, when you saw Elizabeth standing there in that dress, it was as if the floor had dropped out from underneath you, but somehow everything was in its right place. Seeing that, watching you fall in love - it was like I was witnessing a miracle. Like watching the first spring flower bloom or something."
"I remember feeling like my feet were glued to the floor, and when I walked toward her, it was like an out of body experience. It was this incredible feeling. I was exhilirated and terrified; I felt numb, yet at the same time, all my senses were heightened," Lucky revealed.
"That's how it was with me and Zander," Emily shared. "Save for the green ballgown. Suddenly it just hit me that the sun rose and set with this man."
"Hmmm..." Lucky smiled at her, his oldest friend. "I'm so happy for you, Em. And for you and Zander. I knew you had to make it, in every way."
"Thank you Lucky, for believing in me, and in Zander. And," she looked directly into his eyes, "thank you for giving me away."
"It was my honor, Emily." His voice was serious. "I love you."
"I love you too." He leaned forward and they hugged tightly, then he shifted his body so that he was sitting next to her. He slipped an arm around her and she snuggled into the crook of his shoulder. They cuddled together and then turned to look at one another, smiling.
"Dillon said he felt like he'd been hit by a tidal wave," Emily shared.
"Whew," Lucky whistled. "Sounds about right." They chuckled. "Hurricaine First Love," he cracked, causing Emily to burst into full laughter, leaning her head against his chest.
He squeezed her shoulders and laughed along with her.
Georgie pushed her book cart with one hand while she used the other to rub her aching neck with the other. For some reason, there were a lot of nasty, cranky patients today. They were sick, she knew, and it was her job to try to make their time in the hospital more comfortable, but there was a difference between sick-cranky and just plain, well, bitchy. Like the man who, instead of saying "no thank you" when she offered him a copy of The Poetry of Robert Frost, had dropped the book to the floor and then had made an off-color remark at her when she'd bent down to retrieve it. Georgie knew that there were people who deserved compassion regardless of behavior (to an extent), because they were hurt or sick or scared, but it angered her when her compassion was taken advantage of.
Thinking about it made her feel tired, and she kneaded her hand across the base of her neck, her other one holding the cart. She closed her eyes and took the moment to herself when she felt long fingers slip inbetween hers, increasing the massage and an arm wrap around her as a hand with a silver thumb ring came to rest against her waist.
"Mmmmm..." a soft moan escaped her lips. The hand continued to rub her neck, then came down to meet the other one, wrapping around her waist from the opposite side and pulling her back against a warm body. Soft hair ticked her temple. "Hey..." a soft voice said.
Georgie twisted slightly in Dillon's arms to look up into his eyes. They were sparkling with a warm mischieviousness that she knew very well, but he looked nervious too. She would ask him about that in a few minutes - right now she just wanted to say hello. She smiled up at him.
Dillon released his hold on Georgie just enough to turn her around so they were facing one another. For a moment, they just looked at each other.
"How are you?" she asked. He laughed.
"I'm good. How are you?"
"Tired," she complained. "And fed up. When I signed up for candy striping no one told me that it would include having to play fifty-two pickup with a man who has very questionable things happening in...unmentionable regions of his body.
Dillon raised his eyebrows and his hands in an "I Surrender" gesture. "Hey, I'm not even gonna ask," he swore. They both laughed in amusement and slight discomfort at the mention of "unmentionable regions" but when their eyes met once again, they grew silent.
"Hi."
"Hi."
Dillon felt his heart speeding up again. He looked around quickly to check for anyone coming down the hall and then looked back at Georgie, who gave him a half smile, but didn't move. He heard her voice in his head: "Do I just stand here and wait for you?" He loved that about her, that she was patient and waited for a kiss to happen. He had known girls who would thrust their chins demandingly toward him the minute he was in range, giving him that "well..." look until he dropped an obligatory peck on their lips. But not Georgie. She had once told him that she didn't have any experience - in fact, he suspected that that kiss by the phone may have been her very first - but she knew more about kissing than any other girl he had ever met, because she knew to wait for the moment to come naturally.
He put a hand on her face and leaned in, pausing slightly before lowering his lips to hers. Her mouth was soft against his and tasted slightly of grape bubblegum. He smelled the slightly floral scent of her shampoo combined with a crisp, fruity scent - he had seen a bottle on her dresser once - cucumber melon, he thought it was. It was a smell that was distinctly Georgie to him. God, he loved kissing her.
They pulled away slowly. He needed to tell her, needed her to know everything that was in his head, how she made him feel. He smoothed her hair behind her ear. "Georgie..." he whispered, seeing her gaze at him.
Suddenly, though, she quickly stepped back, assuming a more casual position. Dillon twisted slightly to see his uncle Alan Quartermaine at the end of the corridor, coming toward them.
"Hi Dr. Quartermaine," Georgie said cheerfully.
"Georgie. Dillon." Alan smiled at them.
"Hi Alan," Dillon said.
There was a second of awkward silence.
"Well," began Georgie. "I better get going. I promised Mrs. Ellis in 514 that I would bring her Leaves of Grass today. Bye Dr. Quartermaine."
"Goodbye Georgie."
She paused to look into the eyes of the young man whose lips had just been carressing hers. "See ya Dillon." He connected with her.
"See ya Georgie." He felt like he had struck out, or maybe the game had been called on account of rain. Screw it, he didn't do sports analogies. All he knew was that he might have told her everything that was in his soul and the moment had been stolen. "Georgie!" he heard himself yell as she walked away slowly. She turned around.
"Yeah?"
"Not now, do not say it right now, this is not the right time, this is not the right place. Do not yell it at her. Tell her when you're holding her in your arms and looking into her eyes, damn it," he lectured himself at lightening speed. He spoke aloud. "Will you meet me at Kelly's tonight?"
She grinned. "Yes. What time?"
"Seven."
"Okay."
They stood, smiling at one another. "Well, bye," piped up Georgie.
"Bye."
And again, standing, looking at each other over the distance of a couple of yards, not quite able to turn and separate just yet. After a few seconds, Dillon flashed her an intimate smile and walked in the opposite direction. After he took a few steps, he turned his head around and winked at her. Georgie laughed, shaking her head, as she continued down the hall.
