Ch. 19

As they rode up to the penthouse, Dante and Valerie were both silent, lost in their own private thoughts. Dante, for his part, was exhausted. The emotions of the day had worn him out and all he really wanted was to get horizontal on some flat surface and close his eyes. Valerie was feeling guilty because she was relieved that it hadn't been Dante hurt in that alley. She felt bad for Nathan, but she was glad Dante was safe.

Valerie unlocked the door and motioned for Dante to go inside. He walked to the middle of the living area where he stopped and turned to her. They stood there watching one another, Dante with a look of uncertainty on his face. "What's wrong?" Valerie finally asked him. "Honestly, I'm not exactly sure what I'm doing here. I'm gonna say something and I'm hoping you won't take it the wrong way." "Ok. Say it." "I-" he paused, sighing. "We-" he tried again. Shaking his head, he gave up. "Dante, don't feel like you have to censor yourself, ok? You're trying to say something. Just say it." "Ok. I'm kind of tired. My brain is fried—it's been an insane day. I didn't come over here for sex. I hope I didn't offend you by saying that."

She looked at him with a faint smile on her face before she let out a little chuckle. "Yes," she said, "I'm horribly offended. How dare you say you don't want to have sex with me."

"I'm sorry," he quickly replied. "I knew I shouldn't have said anything."

"No, I'm sorry. I'm only teasing you but you're too tired to get the humor. It's ok if you don't want sex. I didn't ask you to come home with me for that anyway."

"Why did you ask me to?"

"For this. Just this." She went to him and put her arms around him, gently pulling him into a tight hug. After a moment's hesitation, he reached for her and returned the embrace. They stood there swaying slightly back and forth. Valerie sighed softly and laid her head on Dante's shoulder. He exhaled quietly and leaned his head against hers. They stayed like that for a while, eyes closed, giving and receiving comfort from each other. Finally she murmured, "I feel so guilty."

"Why?"

"Because I'm so relieved it wasn't you. Because on the way to the hospital, that's all I could think of. That it could have been you in that alley. That was my first thought. Nathan was secondary, and that wasn't right since he's the one who was hurt. He could have died and all I could think was how glad I was that it wasn't you. I'm not even sure I have the right to feel relief, though."

"Do feelings have rights? You feel how you feel. It makes me feel good that you care. And I know you're happy that Nathan's alive and going to heal—you don't have to feel bad for being relieved. I guess I should feel bad for being so grateful when you showed up to GH. I was standing there feeling shaken and then someone tapped me on the shoulder and I turned to see you there. And something in me steadied. Should I feel bad that having you there made me feel better?"

"No, I guess not. Ever since I got your message, I wanted to do this. Just hold you. Just be held by you. I wanted to tell you everything was going to be ok, but I also needed you to tell me the same thing. It's so weird…"

"What's weird?"

They released one another and moved to sit on the couch. "I see you guys every day. We laugh and joke and then you guys get a call and you roll out. I know what you do is dangerous but I don't think I've really thought about what it is you really do. The stuff you face every day. And now I wonder—why do you do it?"

"Why am I a cop?"

"Yeah. Why do you put yourself out there every day when something like what happened to Nathan could easily happen to you?"

Dante thought for a moment before replying, "I guess it has to do mostly with Lieutenant Poletti. I've mentioned him before, haven't I?" She nodded, "You talked about him the last time you were here."

"Yeah. He was a cop's cop. A real squared-away guy. He cared, you know? He was the kind of guy who looked after the kids in my neighborhood who didn't have fathers, like me. He offered advice and steered us in the right direction without being the usual adult drag. He was someone you could listen to because you knew he was only telling you something for your own good, because he cared. I admired him. As I got older, I wanted to be like him."

"So it's all Lieutenant Poletti's fault, huh?"

Dante laughed and nodded his head. "I guess so. All I know is I wanted to help people like he did. He was admired in the neighborhood. I liked that. There's a look people get when they need help and a cop like him shows up. I wanted that look for myself. At first it was just a thought, an idea. Nothing serious, just a little fantasy, that I'd become a cop."

"What changed it from fantasy to reality?"

"Sonny Corinthos. Lieutenant Poletti was gunned down in the street one day. Every one said Sonny Corinthos did it. An up and coming bad guy. Now Lieutenant Poletti was a good guy, kind-hearted, never had a bad thing to say about anyone. But I heard him one day when he saw Sonny's limo rolling down the street. He watched the car make its slow pass and he said, 'Scum' as he shook his head. I had never heard him talk about anybody like that. So I knew that Sonny must really be scum if Lieutenant Poletti called him that. And that scum had gunned down the best man I ever knew. Because he thought he could get away with it. And I promised myself that day that when I got old enough, I would be the one to make him pay for it."

"It's hard to believe we're talking about the same Sonny Corinthos."

"He's the same guy, all right, though he told me later he had nothing to do with Lieutenant Poletti's death. I worked hard, pushed myself. The academy, getting noticed, making rank. With only goal in mind—to position myself to take that scum down and avenge Lieutenant Poletti's death. I convinced my bosses in Brooklyn to let me go undercover. First with the Zaccharas, which eventually gave me an in with Sonny. And I played the part. I got my evidence, made my case, goal was in sight."

"That's what I don't understand. Jordan told me Sonny shot you. Your own father shot you in the chest. I don't understand why he's free, why you even talk to him—none of it makes sense."

"It's complicated. You told me when you met him you thought he was charming. He is. He has a way of drawing you in before you know it. I mean, I knew he killed my friend, the guy who was like my surrogate father. And yet he still managed to make me feel something for him. It's like he's two different people. There's the good kid from the neighborhood that you just want to be friends with. And then there's the ruthless criminal who does what he has to to get what he wants. You get sucked in with the first guy and then the second one drops the hammer. He got me because I was stupid enough to try to take him in without backup or a weapon. I was trying to take him down and he couldn't let that happen. So he shot me. My mother showed up right after that and that's when he found out I was his son. I didn't find out 'til later he was my father. I had built a solid case against him, I thought, solid enough that I could use that, and not him shooting me, to put him away. But of course, it turned out that he hadn't killed his wife and I'd already lied under oath that I had shot myself. So I let him get away."

"So how do you still have anything to do with him? How do you ask him to let me stay here? I would think you would hate him so much that you couldn't stand to be near him."

"Like I said, it's complicated. I like him. And I don't like him. I hate what he does for a living. I hate what he does in the name of business and the way he hurts people who get in his way. Ever since he found out he was my father, though, he's gone out of his way to try to get close to me, to make up for the years we lost as father and son. And he can be charming, generous, and even kind. I'm slowly coming to accept that. But I never forget the other guy who's waiting just under the surface. So that's how we co-exist. I can't afford to surrender and become Sonny's kid—I'm a cop, and he's a bad guy. It's push/pull, back and forth, all the way."

"I don't know whose family is more dysfunctional, mine or yours."

"Pretty sad, isn't it?" He yawned suddenly and stretched his arms over his head.

"I was planning to have a light snack before I went to bed. You want something?" Valerie stood up and pointed to the kitchen.

"I could eat as long as you don't have to cook anything." They went to the kitchen together and finally decided on ham and sharp cheddar cheese sandwiches, apple slices and green grapes. Valerie poured two glasses of milk to round out the snack and then placed the plates on a breakfast tray. Dante carried the tray and Val carried the milk up to her bedroom. There was a small table and chair set in the master bedroom and they sat down to eat. Dante looked around the room as he munched away. "I didn't really pay any attention the last time I was in here. It's almost like a mini apartment, the way it's laid out."

"Your father has excellent taste. I think this is my favorite room in the house. Somehow even though the room is huge, it still manages to feel cozy when I'm in here. I crawl in the bed under the covers and I just feel safe. It's hard to explain. Everything feels so soft, so lush and when I'm surrounded by it all, the blankets, the pillows, I feel comforted, like I'm being held in big, gentle arms. That's what I wanted you to feel tonight. I didn't want to be alone after a day like today and I didn't want you to be alone, either."

They finished their snack and Dante said, "So you mean for me to stay here? With you? All night?"

"You don't like the idea?"

"Just being together, holding each other. No sex?"

"Don't think you can handle it?" He thought for a moment about actually lying in her bed with her in his arms without anything sexual passing between them. He wasn't sure he could do it. She was standing there, though, with this look of challenge on her face. He was game if she was. What was the worst that could happen?

"Yeah, I can handle it if you can. I don't know if you can, though. For starters, I didn't bring any pajamas or anything with me. But I'm kind of a commando guy, anyway. You can deal with that, right?" Valerie closed her eyes as she thought of what he was really saying. Dante. Naked. In her bed. The image made her shiver before she could quell the motion and he saw it. "Are you cold?" he asked, knowing very well that wasn't the reason for her slight agitation.

"No, I'm not cold. Just thinking. I suppose I could wear a t-shirt and shorts instead of my usual night wear, to spare your delicate sensibilities." He laughed aloud as he shook his head, saying, "Don't do anything different or special on my account. Be comfortable. I want to wash up before bed. Can I use the bathroom I used last time?"

"Sure. Everything is still there, including the toothbrush. Go for it." After he left the room, she put her hands over her face and exhaled. It had been an impulse to invite him over, and the reasons she gave him were honest ones but now that he was here, she was nervous. She didn't plan to lose in the battle of wills, though. She could lie in the same bed with him. While he was naked. Without wanting or trying anything with him. Of course she could. She had gone out and bought new lingerie after that dream she'd had about him. Let's see how he likes being teased, she thought as she walked into her own bathroom to get washed up.

When she came out of the bathroom, Dante was sitting on the edge of the bed in a robe. He gestured at it and said, "This must be one of Sonny's guest robes. It was in the closet in there, and it covered me, so I thought I would borrow it."

"No problem—mi casa es su casa." She was also wearing a robe and she was having an inward battle as she walked over to the dresser and lightly ran her hands along the smooth wood. With what she had on underneath her robe, throwing it off would be like making some kind of declaration. On the dresser she had a candle set—various white candles of all sizes and shapes set in a shallow tray. She picked up a long reach lighter and began lighting each candle. Dante watched in silence before muttering, "Candles, huh? Ok." under his breath.

"You say something?" she asked.

"No, I didn't. Are you really gonna light candles, though? And then go to bed?"

"I do it all the time. They're drip-less candles—perfectly safe. As long as there's no breeze directly on them, there won't be a problem. It's too hot for a fire, but I like the illusion it creates. Kind of romantic. Not that we're here for romance tonight. I'm just saying it sets a mood. For whatever." In one motion, she untied her robe, shrugged out of it, and threw it on an easy chair in the corner of the room.

Dante was smirking inwardly as he watched Val. She thought she was gonna get him all messed up with the sleeping in the same bed and the candles and stuff. Huh. He had a will of iron. She'd break before he—in the middle of his musings, she took off her robe and threw it on the chair in the corner of the room. His eyes widened and involuntarily he uttered, "Good God. Whoa, girl. Damn." There was NO WAY she slept in that every night. Aloud, he stuttered, "What—what—what are you… What is that? There's no way you sleep in that every night!"

Valerie stood there looking innocently at him in her white lace baby doll. "Why not? Ever since I had that dream, I've been wearing stuff like this to bed. It makes me feel-" Sexy, she thought to herself. It was all see-through lace, leaving nothing to the imagination and before he could stop himself, he gestured with his finger in a swirling motion, telling her without speaking to turn fully around. Deciding to go for it and be brazen, she gave him a little haughty pout before she raised her arms slightly at her sides and slowly pivoted on the balls of her feet.

They both spoke at the same time, she jokingly, he totally serious. "It is a pretty little thing, isn't it?" "You have a beautiful body." Oh, she thought, he's not joking around anymore. As long as they were keeping things light, she felt confident and playful, but now that he was sitting there unsmiling and, oh, obviously aroused, she was no longer sure of her footing. Val ran her hand over her head in sudden uneasiness at the lack of expression on his face.

"Are you actually saying," he finally asked her soberly, "that you intend to get into bed with me wearing that? And you don't expect me to touch you?" Immediately her boldness came back in a rush as she replied, "I intend it, and I expect it. What's the matter? You don't have confidence in your abilities?"

"My confidence and my abilities are legendary. Now I told you, I'm commando under this robe. How confident are you in YOUR abilities to resist me?" "Oh," she said as she stretched her arms over her head, "I'm so tired, Dante. My only intention tonight is to sleep. I think I'll be able to resist your charms, no matter how potent they are." She went over to her iPod and touched a button. Soft jazz suddenly streamed through the room. One by one, she went through the bedroom turning off all the lights until the only light in the room was from the candles. She smoothed back the bed covers and slid in before giving him a sultry gaze. "Aren't you getting in? I thought you said earlier you were exhausted," she teased. Patting the mattress she added, "Go ahead, and climb in."

Dante stood there momentarily unsure before making a decision. Running from the room, he said, "I'll be right back." Not the smoothest of moves, he realized, but he knew himself. He dashed to the bathroom from which he retrieved a clean face towel. He also grabbed his wallet. That had the condoms in it. Just in case.

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He returned to the bedroom and walked to the end of the bed. Slowly, as he looked at her, he untied the sash on the bathrobe. He did an impromptu strip tease as he shrugged lightly enough for one shoulder to appear, causing her to laugh at his silliness. He kept going. Both shoulders were on display now. "Take it off, take it off," she taunted him playfully. Brashly he complied, dropping the robe with a flourish on the edge of the bed. Dante paused for a moment, giving her a chance to admire his physique, which she unashamedly did. "Who's talking about having a beautiful body," she whispered as he finally climbed in under the bed covers.

"We're really doing this," she said matter-of-factly as he extended his arm, inviting her to move closer to him. She moved closer and snuggled against him as she put her head on his shoulder.

"Looks like," he replied, gazing down at her while she settled herself into a comfortable position. Dante stared at her for what felt like forever before she tilted her face up toward his and slowly opened her eyes to return his stare. He leaned down and softly kissed her lips, once, twice. He teased her lips apart with his own with light, glancing touches. Unhurriedly, lazily, their tongues dueled together, and he pulled her even closer to his body as he deepened the kiss. Languidly, their lips met over and over, gradually at first, but then with increasing, quickening force. Tangling his fingers in her hair to hold her still, he drew her bottom lip in between his teeth and gently bit down before releasing it to return to kissing her softly once more. He sucked her tongue into his mouth and she felt herself flooding. She uttered a low cry before she could stop it. "Dante-"

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," he whispered with an answering groan of his own. "That was only supposed to be a kiss goodnight. I'm sorry. That wasn't fair of me at all." She whimpered into his chest as she sighed aloud. She was wet, he was dripping, but this wasn't supposed to be about sex, just comfort. "What do you want me to do?" he asked hoarsely. "Just hold me. God. Just hold me, ok?" He pulled her in even tighter and kissed her forehead, his hand still tangled in her hair. "Man," he thought to himself, "if they weren't careful, by the time they actually did do it, they were gonna set more than candles on fire." He sighed and closed his eyes as he willed himself to sleep.

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