There was something deliciously addictive about sneaking around to spend time with the man you loved, Georgie mused as she stretched her arms over her head, leaning back comfortably into the overstuffed pillows The French Quarter Hotel provided them. She had expected that agreeing to Steven's plan of slipping away to the hotel in a neighboring town would make her feel worse about keeping quiet to everyone (save Alexis of course) and Georgie had a nagging suspicion that was probably part of Steven's ultimate plan. However it had felt daring, exciting, just a little bit naughty, and infinitely addictive. This, Georgie realized, must be a part of the reason why Maxie still refused to have anyone in the family meet Ric Lansing.

Running her fingers through her hair, Georgie smiled at Steven's back. He was currently on the phone ordering what he called a "snack," but Georgie suspected was something closer to dinner. Not that she minded. She had barely eaten her lunch after shocking Alexis into silence with her confession on how she really spent her college trip abroad. The longer Alexis remained silent, the longer she had babbled, trying to make it crystal clear this wasn't a decision that she had made in a fit of drunken passion, no matter how much it might sound like one. Biting her lower lip, she offered a bright smile as Steven hung up the phone and turned back around to face her. "So what all did you order, Mr. Sanders?"

"Well...Mrs. Sanders..." Steven drawled watching her from behind his shoulder. "I was thinking baby back ribs with mashed potatoes and a little something for dessert." If someone had told him this would be how he spent his life directly following the wrap-up of his most recent job, he would have laughed. Six months ago the idea of being married, even being serious with a woman, had been ridiculous. He would never admit it aloud for fear of upsetting her but, when she told him she might be pregnant, he had wondered if she was lying. They all ended up hurting you in the end and, from the day he met her, he knew Georgie Jones had the potential to do just that. She could cut him deeper than he had ever been cut, lie to him, use him, and leave him without a moment's hesitation. Either she didn't know the power she had over him or she was waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Maybe the proposal, in retrospect, had initially been his way of testing her supposed love for him, but then again maybe not. He hadn't lied when he told her he loved her and, though she might have questioned his motives, his reasons behind it hadn't been based solely on the possibility of her being pregnant. It had all been worth it, he sighed. Every misunderstanding, every little fight they had had—it brought them to this perfect moment with her curled up next to him.

"If I eat all that I don't think I'll be able to move." Georgie declared, grabbing his hand with her own and weaving their fingers together.

"So it can feed us for a few days." Steven wiggled a suggestive eyebrow at her.

"I think we might be missed." She didn't object to the idea totally, but someone had to point out the logical flaw in his plan.

"You're already missed. I miss you." Steven couldn't help but whine, pulling her closer and turning onto his side so he could breathe in her honeysuckle scent.

"You play dirty."

"You miss me too, don't you?" Steven already knew she did. Over these last few hours he had realized just how much. Their bodies reconnected while their minds and hearts were left to take what they could get.

"Of course I do." Georgie pulled his face closer to hers so she could steal a small kiss. "You know I do."

"If you're trying to convince me we should go our separate ways anytime soon, you're failing." Steven whispered against her mouth, his fingers pressing into the skin at her back.

"Never." She smiled against his lips, curling her arms around his neck.

"We need to talk." Steven laughed when she sighed dramatically beside him.

"About telling everyone else. I know." She had been hoping he'd forgotten, but apparently she was wrong.

"You told Alexis and that wasn't so bad, now was it?"

"That was Alexis. And I love her, but she's not my dad. Or Robin or Maxie. I haven't known her my whole life. They have. It's just different telling her than telling them. It'd be like if you told Lucky first and then your grandmother and Elizabeth."

"Why do you have to bring Spencer into this?" Steven groaned. "The longer we put this off, the harder it's going to get."

This was not the time, she realized, to point out that he was doing much better about using Lucky's name to refer to him instead of "that guy". Sure it was his last name, but still it counted as progress. "I realize that. And I know there is no right way to do this. I just wish there was."

"I can help; just tell me what to do."

"If I knew that, we wouldn't have snuck off."

"So let's start thinking about this your favorite way: logically."

"Logic says I should make sure my dad is in a good mood. And I'll probably need Alexis' help for that."

"Let's call and find out." Steven suggested reaching for the phone.

"No." Georgie reached over him and placed her hand over the phone.

"Why not?"

"In the first place, I don't want to interrupt whatever is going on over there. I have a feeling I know exactly what they are doing right now and they have scarred my mind enough without adding more auditory induced imagery thank you very much." Georgie shuddered. "Secondly, don't you think my dad would question why I'm calling Alexis all of the sudden about something I can't talk to him about?"

"Not if you called her cell phone." Steven reasoned with a cheeky grin.

"Oh yeah. Someone in a hotel calling Alexis on her cell phone. That will make my dad really happy." Georgie rolled her eyes.

"Have you always been this paranoid?" He teased kissing the side of her mouth.

"Comes with the Scorpio territory. And for the record, I have nothing on Robin and Maxie."

*****

As it had always been with them, he had been upfront with her. He was moving out. Plain and simple. Harper had seen his mother and his sister after her drown themselves in the bottle. He had heard the excuses, been the co-dependent who cleaned them up after a "rough night," covered for them when they blacked out. It was one of the most consistent memories of his entire childhood. Been there done that. The other night had not been the first time he'd found bottles hidden and heard stories about needing a drink to chase away nightmares. Even as a child he had been able to smell the bullshit in that particular lie and the smell hadn't grown any sweeter with time.

Samantha had a problem. That much was clear to him. In the back of his mind it had always nagged at him that, as valuable as she was to his ultimate plan, she could also cost him everything. She was rash and impulsive. Her temper got the best of her. Now Harper was beginning to realize the drinking was the bigger problem. How had he not noticed it before now? When he got too close to her, she went for a drink. If something rattled her cage, she poured a drink. Had he been so amused by their dance of attraction that he missed what he now saw were obvious clues that something else was driving her to run from him?

She sat stiffly on the couch, watching him out of the corner of her eyes as he tossed the last of his limited wardrobe into the duffle bag. Pulling the ancient zipper to close the bag, he managed to catch her eye before she looked away again. "That's the last of it."

When he made up his mind to leave, Sam made a silent promise to herself that she would not react in anything but an impassive fashion. She would not cry or beg him to stay. Hell, she was still pissed at him for reacting the way he had to something that had absolutely nothing to do with him. She hadn't had a drink since their first kiss, but he wouldn't believe that, would he? No, it was much simpler to label her as an alcoholic because then he was justified in giving up. She wondered what had taken him so damn long.

"I'm crashing with Kimes." He referred to the fellow cop she had met the few times she had been seen with him in public. "If anything breaks, you can catch me there."

Sam gave him a two-finger salute and turned her attention to the piece of loose thread on the end of the quilt her mother had crocheted for her, or at least that was the story her father had always told. What did he want her to do? Apologize? For what? If she wanted to drink herself into oblivion, she could have done it in the years she had spent mourning her son, but she hadn't. Didn't that count for something?

Just as he suspected, she wasn't going to make this easy on him. Had he really expected her to? Harper taunted himself. Half the attraction was the fight she always had. He felt the crazy urge to pick a fight, to say something he knew would drive her crazy just to get her to say anything to him. Every instinct in him told him just to turn around and walk out, not say anything to her, but just this once, he ignored his instincts. "Don't pretend you won't miss me."

"Who's pretending?"

"She speaks."

"Falls on deaf ears though, doesn't it?"

"Your self delusions usually do." He smirked, knowing she wouldn't be able to help herself but respond to that one.

"Delusions? Is that what you call the truth?"

"It is when you are hiding from the truth Samantha."

"Then go." Sam waved her hand for him to do just that.

"You know it doesn't have to be like this."

"You should go while you're ahead."

Harper took a step towards her, knowing it was probably about the stupidest decision he could make right now. Samantha wasn't about to fall into his arms, she was more likely to kick him in a very sensitive area right now. Safety be damned, he reached out and circled her wrist with ease. "I'm not leaving until I get one thing."

Sam's lips curved into a smile. "Sorry to disappoint, but that's not happening."

Matching her smile with one of his own, he pulled her closer to him. "You don't even know what I want."

"I know you're not going to get it." Sam countered, yanking her wrist back with little success.

"It's a small thing really."

"Well I'm sure you'll have no problem getting it from someone else. Now let go of me." Sam ordered her smile slipping.

"Just be safe, Samantha. Tell me before you go out investigating anyone." He wasn't above pleading. He couldn't stay here and watch her self-destruct, but he could at least try to protect her.

An indignant yelp leapt from deep inside of her chest. "Who the hell do you think you are? I don't have to clear my decisions with you. Isn't that why you're leaving? Because I'm misbehaving? Go save someone else, David. I'm in no mood."

"I'm leaving because I'm not going to watch you destroy yourself Samantha." He explained as calmly as he could manage, clipping each word at the end. "You don't think you have a problem and I disagree. It's not a fight I want to have every single night. This isn't about saving you. I want to make sure you don't need saving."

"Don't flatter yourself. I've handled myself just fine before you were even in the picture." Sam retorted angrily.

"Yeah that's why I caught you red-handed." He could barely contain his snort of laughter.

The tears were cold and unwelcome as they slid beneath her rapidly blinking lashes. She turned her face away from him and managed to break free of his hold, telling herself to pull it together. She wasn't going to do this. She was not this person. "It's not all bad. You got something out of the deal, didn't you?" Her question came out in nothing more than a hiss.

"Almost. I almost got something out of this." He admittedly softly. She had let him have her body, but she was still keeping the rest of her locked tightly from him.

"Sorry to have wasted your time. I hear there are some miserable orphans up the road in need of saving." Her lips trembling, she said the words slowly, several of them lost in her throat.

She was just a few steps away from him and Harper closed the distance with ease. Reaching out lightly, he twirled her around so he could see her tear-stained face. A knife twisted in his gut that he should just stay, but he knew better. He had been down this road and had no wish to go down it again. He had to leave, but not before he convinced her of one point. Before she could pull back, he crushed his lips to hers, only releasing her when the need for air became something they could no longer ignore. Resting his forehead on hers, he nuzzled her nose with his own. "You are never a waste of time Gorgeous." He whispered before turning his back and grabbing his bag.