The August air was thick, the humidity serving as a soft focus lens that blurred the lines between tree and sky and water. Although the sun was starting to set, Alexis wore her sunglasses to protect her eyes from the wind that whipped across her face as she stood at the front of the launch. The wind's velocity formed a cocoon of sorts, making it difficult to turn her head and blocking out all sound. She hummed a bit to herself to see if she could hear her own voice; it was still there although a faint murmur. Something inside Alexis wanted to push the captain aside and open up the throttle so she could scream as loud as her lungs would allow into the wind's roar. But the man had about 90 lbs on her, severely hindering her chances of physically overpowering him. Plus it would probably scare her fellow passengers, Danny and Sam, albeit for very different reasons. So she stood staring at the expanse of lake in front of her, watching the bow bob as it cut through the water, the wake trailing behind them.

Alexis's ride on the launch transferred the knots of her stomach to her hair. She found a band in her bag and threw the tangled mess into a loose bun. She looked in the mirror in the foyer to check her work and noted the wind-burned flush of her cheeks and the calm she gathered on her trip to the island had created a convincing aura of serenity. This mask gave her confidence as she moved into the front room to greet her nephew, uncle and youngest child.

Sam watched her mother touch up and greet Nikolas, a very different woman than the one who greeted the launch captain a half hour earlier. She wondered how much energy it took her mother to maintain the facade. If she weren't a cynic, she'd believe that this act was for her uncle. Sam knew better. The show was for all of them.

Her mother was in the early stages of falling apart. Sam knew this. But she didn't know *why.* Not for the first time since Silas's death did Sam get the feeling her parents weren't being completely honest with her. And whatever secret they were keeping was taking its toll on Alexis. Sam assumed it had to do with Julian; the couple had separated before the murder, but remained in each other's orbit. But since her father showed up at her apartment a week ago, he and Alexis were both closer and more distant. As though a child fit two puzzle pieces together perfectly and then insisted on driving a large wedge between them.

Julian was still new to Sam, and she struggled to read him. Her father seemed chastened in her mother's presence, a tightly wound paragon of restraint. His face was calm and impassive while his muscles strained throughout his body. Her mother, conversely, was a much easier read. Sam had known her so long even Alexis's attempts at stoicism were fraught with meaning. She wavered between icy hostility and warm vulnerability in Julian's presence.

Whatever seismic event dialed up the intensity of her parents' relationship had little impact on those around them because Alexis absorbed all the aftershocks. Sam looked at her mother, standing straight and tall. Her bones were thin yet made of steel. But even steel is known to buckle when the right pressure is applied.

Dinner started somewhat awkwardly, as the parties tried to merge their individual relationships with Uncle Victor into a cohesive narrative. His quick wit and light laugh eased their efforts and soon enough they fell into familiar patterns. Molly excitedly described her first horseback-riding lesson, her face lit up in a way Alexis hadn't seen in months. She peppered her Uncle with questions about growing up in Greece, and he regaled her with tales of fishing with his brothers and charming the local shopkeepers from whom he tried to pinch candy.

Spencer was also enraptured by his uncle and shared all he had learned about the Greek gods. The young heir seemed to shed what Alexis viewed as an atrocious degree of precociousness in Victor's presence, behaving like a normal eight year old.

Alexis was smiling as they left the dining room and retired to the patio in the back. The buzz from the wine and the conversation made her feel lighter. She didn't trust the feeling, but was willing to give into it, enjoying the time without a weight crushing her shoulders. Alexis giggled to herself at the thought that of all the places in Port Charles, the gothic nightmare that was Wyndemere would be the one location where she could she shed her cares. Nikolas and Sam huddled together in the corner and then rejoined the group to announce they would be building a bonfire. Spencer announced he was going to teach Danny how to use Legos, a classic Cassadine maneuver to cover for what the future prince perceived to be an immature endeavor: building a cool fire truck.

Molly lay across the outdoor loveseat, her long legs hanging over the side as her head rested in her mother's lap. The haze had miraculously lifted without benefit of thunderstorm and the stars were visible. Victor pointed out constellations to his youngest niece as Alexis stroked her daughter's hair like she had when she was a much smaller girl. For one idyllic night the constant specter of death that had haunted their summer refused to follow them. The water separating the mainland from Spoon Island was the Rubicon and their worries had no interest in crossing.

The tableau dissolved as Sam and Nikolas enlisted Molly in helping them find ingredients for smores. It was quiet until Alexis lay her head back and sighed deeply, drawing her uncle's attention.

-"But this is a lovely night, Alexis."

She smiled at her uncle, "Very good, Uncle. I appreciate your efforts to use my preferred name."

-"It does pain me to use the diminutive. But you do have a lovely smile, so it makes it all worthwhile. You get your smile from your mother, you know."

Alexis leaned forward, "I forget you knew her."

-"Of course I did. She lived on the island, Alexis."

-"Did you know about the affair? On the island?"

-"Oh, there wasn't an affair on the island, Alexis. Admittedly, Mikkos was smitten with her. I think every man had a little bit of a crush on her. But nothing happened on the island. If it had she never would have made it *off.*" Alexis's face darkened briefly before flashing back to a smile at the approach of Molly.

-"You both seem pretty chatty. Are you telling fun Cassadine secrets?" Molly's eyes sparkled with the thought of ancient conspiracies.

-"No, Molly. I was just answering questions about your grandmother."

Molly's confused response of "Helena?" drew a wince from her mother.

-"Helena is not your grandmother, sweetheart."

-"I'm sorry, Mom. I know that. Wait…do you mean Kristin? My real grandmother?"

-"The one and the same."

-"Sam," Molly called enthusiastically, "Uncle Victor has stories about Grandma Kristin."

Alexis looked from one daughter to the other. She never discussed her mother, and she was shocked to learn that the phrase "Grandma Kristin" was familiar to both her daughters. "I didn't realize you were so interested, Molly."

-"Mom, you're kidding right? Kristina, Sam and I have Googled her a million times."

She froze at that. Alexis had not searched for her mother on the Internet in years, and she was nervous about what her daughters found—particularly around her mother's death. "What have you discovered?"

Sam saw Alexis's discomfort and piped in, "A lot of old reviews of her concerts. Some recordings. We even found an old obituary after her car accident."

Alexis smiled at her oldest as a thank you for assuaging her fears. Google confirmed the lie of her mother's death, so it must be true. Thank God.

-"But what we're missing, Mom, is who she was. What made her tick," Molly piped in.

-"Well, I can help with that," Victor offered. "I didn't know her well, but I'll answer what I can."

Molly and Sam looked at each other, unsure where to start. The elder asked the first question, "Where was she from?"

-"She was from a Swedish family, but they had lived in Germany, I think. Presumably West since she made her way to Greece. German was her first language. I believe that's also your first language, isn't it Alexis?"

-"Yes. It is."

Molly jumped in, "How did she become a governess? I mean she was this amazingly talented opera singer. Why was she teaching?"

-"I don't know that she had much choice. She had a glorious voice. I know people say 'touched by an angel,' but I mean it. And almost no training," Victor looked amazed at the memory. "She told Tony once she had auditioned for a company and they told her she needed lessons. So she took the job on the island to pay for it."

-"But why Cassadine Island? Why wouldn't she go to a city where she could work and train?"

-"Working as a governess on Cassadine Island paid exceedingly well. It was a way to earn enough money to put herself through intensive classes."

Alexis studied her daughter cross-examining Victor; he reveled in her relentless questioning. The two of them had apparently developed a bond during the course of her stay at Wyndemere. Although she appreciated how this new kinship had started to heal her baby, she wished desperately they were engaged in another topic of conversation. Nikolas had joined them at this point, and lightly squeezed his aunt's hand, well aware that Molly was inadvertently treading traumatic ground.

He tried to jump in, but Molly bulldozed right over him. "So she left the island to go study music. And Grandpa Mikkos followed her. On the one hand it's romantic, but I can see how it would be upsetting to his wife."

Victor seemed attuned to the widely varying reactions to the interview, even as his interrogator remained oblivious. "You know what, Molly? There's not much more I remember, I'm afraid. How about we show off a little of the Russian you learned this week?"

Molly blushed as she realized she had been the only one asking questions about her grandmother. Once again, everyone seemed to know a secret she didn't and she looked at her mother, her big brown eyes communicating an apology.

Alexis put her hands on either side of her daughter and kissed her forehead before whispering in her ear, "I love that you want to know more." She smoothed Molly's hair and smiled, "so, Russian, huh? Let's hear it, Miss Molls."

Julian fixed himself another bourbon and paced about the apartment.

-"Is it helping?"

-"Is what helping?"

-"The booze. The pacing. Is it helping whatever is troubling you?" Ava reclined on the couch, a fashion magazine open on her lap. Julian sat in the chair opposite her and fiddled with his glass. The silence finally drew an exasperated sigh from his sister.

-"What, Julian? Just tell me what the problem is."

-"What makes you think there's a problem?"

She closed the magazine and cast it aside. "Is it Sam's case? Our boss?" A smile crept across her face, "Alexis?"

He stared at her. "Maybe."

-"OK. Well, we can watch TV or we can talk about it. Or you can go catch a movie by yourself somewhere since you can leave. I, however, am stuck here and I am over the sulking. So pick your poison, big brother. What's it gonna be?"

-"So you talked to Alexis."

-"Yup."

Julian saw her smirk and knew she was going to make him work for it. "How did it go?"

-"Fine." Ava was stifling a laugh, but a small chuckle escaped her throat. "Juuuuuuliannnnn. Do you want to ask me what I thought of your girlfriend?" she teased.

-"She's not my girlfriend."

-"Fine. Your lover. Your babymama." He shot her a look. "Your Ex."

-"Yes, OK. Yes. What did you think of your conversation with Alexis?"

-"You mean what I thought of her?"

-"Jesus, Ava. YES. What did you think of her?"

Ava giggled at Julian's frustration. "Sorry. It's a little sister's prerogative to annoy." She shifted up and put a pillow behind her back. "What did I think of Alexis?" Ava considered how to respond before passing the ball back in his direction: "Well how would you describe her?"

-"What do you mean how would I describe her?"

-"I'm just looking for adjectives, Julian." He looked in his drink. "Look, I've got a magazine right here. If you don't want to do this, you can always walk to the Floating Rib."

-"I think she's smart."

-"Good start. Keep going."

-"She's remarkably kind. Her heart is open, but you've got to get in first. OK, she can be really funny. She'll go to the worst-case scenario sometimes, but you can usually pull her back. She'll defend you if she trusts you. She's stalwart…is this what you're looking for?"

Ava smiled at him. "Yes. Want me to go?"

Julian snarked at her. "Well, I did start by asking you what you thought."

-"OK. I agree she's smart. She may be funny, but she tends to be on her guard with me, so I'm not sure. Her taste in men is somewhat questionable. And she's very, very secretive, Julian."

-"Do you think so?"

-"Are you kidding me?" Julian looked at her blankly. "Wow. You're serious. OK. Let's start with the basics. What's her name, Julian?"

-"Alexis Davis."

-"Are you sure? Didn't you call her Alexandra at one time? Doesn't Luke call her some Russian name like Ivanka or something—"

-"Natasha"

-"Right. Natasha. And she's a Cassadine, but she goes by Davis."

-"That's not unusual. I spent years as Derek Wells."

-"You were in the Witness Protection Program." Ava sighed. "I'm not criticizing her, Julian. I'm just wondering how much you *really* know about her."

-"What does it matter if she's changed her last name? Her family was tough. She wanted a new start."

Ava shook her head. "It never ceases to amaze me how uninterested you are in people's motivations."

-"Ava. I love Alexis. We share a lot with each other. We are connected. When she wants to tell me about her life, I am there to listen to her. But I respect her boundaries."

-"You do, do you? Didn't she break up with you?"

-"Yes. So?"

-"Since you broke up, how many times have you slept together?" Julian looked at his glass. "Let me guess more than once. Let me guess again: you started it, Julian." She shook her head. "Let's try one more question. Let's go basic on this one. Who are her parents?"

-"Her father is Mikkos Cassadine. Her mother was an opera singer. His mistress. She died when Alexis was young."

-"How did she die?"

-"Car accident."

-"Did Alexis tell you that?"

-"No. When we reconnected at the hospital she implied her mother's death was traumatic and I did some research once I discovered her name."

-"Well, you're wrong."

-"How do you know?"

-"Because Morgan told me. Or at least he told me the gossip. His step-father is Alexis's ex-husband. He overheard one of his parents' fights where Carly brought up her diagnosis of Alexis's mental state and the potential causes."

-"So. Are you going to tell me?"

Ava considered him for a moment before making a decision. "No. I'm not going to tell you. If she hasn't told you then you haven't earned it yet." Julian shrugged noncommittally, so Ava infused cheer into her tone. "The good news is that apparently I like her enough to keep her secrets. She was thoughtful and brought me a brownie. She obviously loves you. But you underestimate her Julian. She's smarter than you think and stronger than you know."

-"This sounds like a ringing endorsement," he noted suspiciously.

-"If the very few things I've heard about Alexis are true than I can't believe she's not locked away in a room with padded walls, Julian. I don't know how you've hurt her, but I can see you have. The guilt is practically dripping off you. Just remember that people like Alexis go until they can't anymore. And sometimes when they stop they have a hard time starting again. Keep that in mind."

Julian got up to pour himself another drink, reflecting on his sister's assessment. "I get what you're saying, Ava. And if she was a mark or a target, then sure. I'd dig up everything I could on her. Just like I started to do when we first came to town." He moved back to his seat. "But she's not a mark. She's a partner. And when she wants to tell me something, I'll listen. But I'm not going to upend a system that's worked for her because I'm put out that I don't know why she changed her last name."

Ava sounded bewildered as she relayed her dawning realization. "Why Julian Jerome. You really do love her."

-"Have you not been listening?" Julian stopped mid-thought to pull his buzzing phone from his pocket. He nodded at his sister, "Gimme a sec. It's Sam."

The weird pall that had threatened the mood lifted as the group combined graham crackers, chocolate and toasted marshmallows. Alexis watched Victor struggle to keep dangling marshmallow and dripping chocolate off his Hugo Boss jacket and chuckled silently.

-"What's so funny, Aunt?"

-"I was just thinking, Nikolas, how we never made smores out here with Stefan." Nikolas started to laugh. "I mean all those times he begged us, and we just never said yes."

-"Well, Aunt, that's because Helena never shared her special recipe with us."

The laughter grew, "It was her revenge against Stefan! She was just angry because he never let her cut the wood for the bonfire. He always had to gather it himself."

-"That's because all the best kindling was on the bluff."

-"Don't forget the flint that she stored on the parapet."

-"And my uncle's guitar. He always wanted to sit out here and have Bob Dylan sing-alongs. But we said 'no.' Maybe if we'd let him lead us all in Kumbaya just once liked he asked us to…"

Alexis and Nikolas had worked themselves into hysterical laughter, choking and red-faced with tear-stained cheeks. Sam, Spencer and Molly looked at each other as the jokes about Stefan and Helena went over their heads. Victor grinned recognizing the folly in imagining Helena doing any physical labor.

Alexis wiped the tears away from her cheeks. "Oh, Nikolas. Maybe that was what we needed. Fewer bacchanalias, more campfires."

-"If only we had bought Helena an apron. All she ever wanted to do was bake and take care of her children, Alexis. But we made her take over the world."

-"We are such selfish, selfish people, Nikolas."

Sam opted to stay the night at Wyndemere, sharing Molly's king-sized bed as it was too late to move Danny. Alexis begged off a sleepover; although she had genuinely enjoyed herself, she preferred to keep her time at Wyndemere to a minimum. As she left for the launch, Sam offered to call ahead and arrange a taxi to meet her at the pier. Although Alexis enjoyed the docks at night, she acquiesced to her daughter's plea for safety.

The ride back to the mainland was a haze. She watched the lights flicker off on Spoon Island until the trees obscured Wyndemere from view. As they pulled into the slip, Alexis sighed. There was no taxi, but a familiar sports car idled on the dock. She stepped off the boat, calling out, "Are you moonlighting now?"

He stood against his car, his lips curled as he responded. "Something like that."

Alexis approached Julian, stopping at a distance that was too far to be intimate yet too close to be platonic. "Sam called you," she stated.

-"Yup."

-"Why? There are plenty of good, reliable taxis in this city."

-"She thinks you need more than a ride…home."

She simpered in response to his phrasing. "And what does our daughter think I need?"

-"She thinks I broke something. Her exact words were, 'Dad. Fix it.'"

The haze she felt on the boat carried over to land. She could hear the water lapping against the dock and the distant buoys, but everything else was quiet. It was dark, but one of the security lights from a nearby warehouse provided enough of a glow that she could make out Julian's features. He was confident, teasing; the guilt that had lined his face the past weeks was gone. Alexis took a half step closer.

-"So what are you planning to do?"

-"Take you home. Warm you up some milk. Tuck you in." His words crawled through her brain and she caught her breath. The insinuation surfaced a hundred different memories of body parts and groans and whispers. It was all she could do to not grab him and fuck him on the hood of his car. Give the launch captain a little show for his trouble.

-"I don't want to go home. Let's drive."