How you gonna ever find your place
Runnin’ at artificial pace?
Are they gonna find us lying face down in the sand?
So what the hell now, we’ve already been forever damned
Anywhere you go, I’ll follow you down
Anyplace, but those I know by heart
Anywhere you go, I’ll follow you down
I’ll follow you down, but not that far
– Follow You Down, Gin Blossoms

---

Saturday, January 8, 2000

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

As much as Elizabeth had wanted to try to stay in bed all day, eventually her stomach had growled, and Jason had insisted on feeding her. She’d thought about trying out his suggestion about the shower, but when she’d finally slid out of the bed, her muscles protested —

And it turned out you really couldn’t make love all day when you were new to the whole thing, but how absolutely amazing to know she could do it again tonight—

“You have to stop doing that,” Jason said, jerking her out of her thoughts, and handing her a slice of the pizza he’d just pulled from the box they’d had delivered. Elizabeth frowned. “You know what you were doing.”

“I do not.” Elizabeth bit her lip, and he scowled. “Oh. That? I always do that—”

“And I told you—” Jason kissed her quickly, but thoroughly before releasing her. “What it makes me think about.”

Her cheeks flushed but she forced herself not to bite her lip again. She took her pizza and went over to the sofa. “I’ll try to remember, but I’m not gonna lie — I’m not going to try very hard.”

Jason just sighed and came to sit next to her, “You’re a menace, you know that?”

“No. But you can tell me again.” She beamed at him. It was so lovely to realize just how much Jason wanted to be with her. Sure, he’d said it, and sometimes she’d gotten hints. But since this morning, he’d stopped hiding it. And she liked it. It made her feel beautiful and desirable—and all the things she’d never thought possible.

Jason Morgan was sexually attracted to her, and almost everything she did made him hot for her. She grinned at him, and he just narrowed his eyes. “Eat your pizza.”

“That’s right. Fuel for later.” Elizabeth sat crossed legged. “You know, there are probably lots of things we can do that—”

The phone on the desk rang, and Jason sprang up, almost looking relieved. She just shrugged and bit into her pizza. She had done a lot of reading in her life, and she had a lot of ideas just waiting to try out, and now that she knew she could, she wanted to do everything—

“Can it wait?” Jason grimaced, looked over at her. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll be over.”  He set the phone back on the base. “I have to go over to Sonny’s. He said it wouldn’t take long.”

“Okay.” Elizabeth lifted her pizza. “I’ll be here—refueling.”

This time he laughed, and came back to the sofa to kiss her. “Mmm. You taste like pizza.”

“That doesn’t sound like a good thing—”

“It is when you’re hungry.” Jason kissed her again, lingering. “I don’t want to go, you know that, right?”

“Yeah. I know. But we had all morning and part of the afternoon.” She touched his face, trailing her fingers along his jaw. “The rest of the world isn’t going to stop for us. So go get dressed, and then hurry back.”

“I will.”

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

Sonny grimaced as Max opened the door for Jason. He was not looking forward to this conversation, and from the way Jason had spoken on the phone, Sonny had interrupted something at the penthouse.  “Hey. Sorry if you had plans today.”

Jason just raised his brows. “You said it wasn’t going to take long. What’s going on?”

“I got a call to meet Vega and Tagliatti at the No Name this morning.” Sonny paused. “Vega wants something from us.”

Jason tensed. “What?”

“He wants,” Sonny said slowly, “to throw you and Elizabeth a wedding reception at the No Name, and before you say no—” he put up a hand as Jason opened his mouth. “It’s not something we can refuse.”

“Why the hell not? It’s personal—” Jason began, then shook his head. “No. It’s not, is it?”

“They’re gonna use the party as a cover to take out Sorel. They didn’t say what the hurry was, but I figure Tagliatti and Vega have their eye on Moreno’s territory, and they’re not interested in letting Sorel solidify his hold. Better to act now while things are up in the air.”

“Then they can throw their own party,” Jason retorted. “I’m not taking Elizabeth anywhere near an assassination attempt—”

“I get it, but—” Sonny paused. Jason, in so many ways, wasn’t a good fit for this world and this was more evidence of it. “Let me lay out their plan—”

“Wait. Wait—” Jason shook his head. “There’s already a plan? Damn it, Sonny, you’re in on this—”

“Tagliatti and Vega have nothing against you or Elizabeth. In fact, they’re on our side. None of us want Sorel in charge of a parking meter, much less Courtland Street and the rest of that area. Moreno was a boil on our ass, and I’d be happier if we divided things up—”

“I’m not—”

“The plan is to make sure you and Elizabeth are long gone before any of this goes down,” Sonny interrupted. “We’ll have the party. Other guys will bring wives and mistresses. Whatever. You’ll do a few dances. Dinner. And you’ll retire early and the party will go on. Just like any other reception,” he added. “Elizabeth will be safe at home before anything happens—”

“That’s if it goes right,” Jason snapped. “What makes you think Sorel will play along? What if he—”

“That’s a risk,” Sonny said slowly, “but Sorel’s already gone after Elizabeth once. You and I both know he was behind that bomb on New Year’s. Sorel needs to go, Jase. This might be our one chance—”

“No—” Jason shook his head. “Absolutely not. You can find someone else—”

“It’s not a request.” Sonny got to his feet. “This is how it’s going to be—”

“You don’t get order me around—”

“No?” his boss raised a brow. “We could call Elizabeth over and ask if she’d be willing to do this—”

“You leave Elizabeth out of this,” Jason growled, stepping towards Sonny. “She’s already done enough.”

Sonny tipped his head. “You think she wouldn’t want a chance to get rid of Sorel? She’ll probably understand this better than you do—”

“I don’t care. It’s not on the table. You can go to hell.”

Jason slammed the door behind him, and Sonny sat down, troubled. He’d known Jason would take this badly, but that was the problem with friendships in this business. Sometimes you had to put them aside for the greater good.

Whether Jason liked it or not, this was how it had to be.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Elizabeth had just set her plate on the desk by the half-empty pizza box when Jason stormed back in, the door slamming so hard behind him that it vibrated. He stalked right past her, towards the fireplace and windows. Her smile faded. The sweet, sexy, frustrated man who’d left her less than ten minutes ago had been replaced by a furious one, and she wasn’t entirely sure how to handle it. Was she even allowed to ask?

“Is everything okay?”

Jason turned, his eyes softening even as the tension remained in his face. “If Sonny tries to talk to you, don’t listen.”

“Uh—” Elizabeth blinked. “Don’t listen?” she echoed. She’d thought things were better with Sonny and Jason, but—

“He thinks he can convince you when I already told him no, so I need you—” Jason exhaled in a huff. “You need to trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

Mystified, she took a step towards him. “I do trust you, and I won’t talk to Sonny if that’s what you want.” She hesitated. “Can I least know what’s going on or—”

Jason fisted his hands at his waist, dipped his head to look at the floor. “I’ll tell you, but you won’t change my mind.”

This didn’t sound good, but Elizabeth trusted Jason. “Okay.”

“Two of the other families want to use us to get rid of Sorel,” Jason bit out. “They want to throw us a wedding reception so Sorel will come and they’ll take care of things. They promise we’ll be out of there before it happens, but there’s no way I’m putting you in that position.”

That was the absolute last thing Elizabeth had expected to hear and she simply stared at him. “Why does Sonny think I’ll say yes when you already said no?”

“It’s—” Jason grimaced. He glared window overlooking the terrace. “Because it’s how things are done,” he muttered. “Sonny thinks I’m an idiot, and I don’t know that.”

“I—” Which meant it was a good idea? She didn’t understand what was going on. “Do you think they’re lying when they say we won’t be there?”

“No.”

“Okay.” So if the risk to her was minimal and this was how things were done— “Do you think I’ll mess something up or I’ll—”

“No. It’s not about any of that.” Jason turned to face her. “Sonny has no right to tell me what to do. This isn’t business—”

“It sounds like it is,” Elizabeth said gently and he flinched. “I’m not pretending I know a lot, but I’ve lived in Port Charles long enough. There’s not really a clear line between personal and the business, is there? I mean, look at us right now. I didn’t want to be mixed up in any of this, but I am. We haven’t been able to separate any of it since you were shot.”

“I don’t want this to touch you—”

“It’s too late for that.” He flinched, and her stomach twisted. “Look, I’m not saying I’ll agree or anything. You’ve said no, and that’s enough for me. This is your life, Jason, and you get to make the decisions. Okay? Please don’t think I’m saying anything differently.”

“Then what—”

“If this is about Sonny telling you what to do—” Elizabeth tipped her head. “Is it maybe about the delivery and not the idea itself? He made it sound like an order, didn’t he?”

Jason was quiet, but she could see some of tension easing in his shoulders. “I don’t like the idea,” he said. “But maybe it is. He’s in charge, that’s fine. But he’s not going to tell me what’s right for me. Not again.”

Elizabeth knew something terrible had happened with Sonny and Jason, but he’d never told her what it was. She just knew it was the night of the shooting and it was why he’d been bleeding to death in the middle of nowhere, and that it involved Carly, who Jason thought he’d been in love with a month ago.

And this was not a conversation she wanted to have today, not after what they’d shared. She wanted to hold onto the dream little longer.

“Okay. So we won’t do it and Sonny will have to figure out something else.” She turned back to the pizza box. “Do you need more food or are we good with that now?”

“I’m fine.” There was another pause. “You’re not going to ask any other questions?”

“About Sonny? Do I need to?” She shrugged. “You know why you’re saying no, and you asked me not to take Sonny’s side.”

He blinked, then nodded. “Right. So, okay. We won’t do it.”

“Right. That’s what I said.” She went over to him, slid her arms around his waist. “Do you want to keep talking about Sonny?”

“Not even a little bit.” Jason cupped her face in his hands, kissed her. “But we also can’t do that.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not that sore—”

Jason just shook his head, kissed her again, and then swatted her butt. She jumped, then grinned. He’d never done that before. “Get dressed,” he told her. “We’ll take the bike out.”

“Can I drive—”

“No.”

Elizabeth grumbled and head for the stairs. “So much for the sexual favors I was gonna surprise you with—” She squealed as he scooped her up and carried her to the stairs. “You changed your mind?”

“What do you think?”

---

They never did make it out on the bike, and Jason had been a little regretful about that when he was called out for a last minute issue at the warehouse.

Since he didn’t know how long it would be, Elizabeth decided not to wait up in the bedroom. So far, they’d only been there, and she was thinking about branching out to other rooms.

She was pretty proud of herself, she thought as she curled up on the sofa and reached for the remote. She’d jumped head first into the whole sex thing, and it turned out she was pretty good at it — or at least, Jason thought she was good enough that she’d managed to distract him from whatever argument he was having with Sonny.

It was strange that Jason seemed so grateful that Elizabeth had taken his side with so little push back. This was Jason’s way of life, and he was the one calculating all the risks. What business was it of hers to say differently?

She flicked through the channels, restless, because there wasn’t really anything she wanted to watch but she needed a way to pass the time—

There was a knock at the door. “Mrs. Morgan?” Francis called through the door.

Elizabeth beamed the sound of the name that was almost legally hers. She’d forgotten to tell Jason she’d signed the forms — she’d do that when he got home. “It’s open,” she called back.

“Mr. C needs to talk to you.”

Elizabeth frowned, then scowled. Jason had left ten minutes ago, and here Sonny was, knocking on her door.

If Sonny tries to talk to you, don’t listen.

That little twerp. So much for a last-minute warehouse snafu. She got to her feet and went over to the door to pull it open, surprising Francis and Sonny. “What do you want?”

“Can we—” Sonny gestured, and Elizabeth stepped back, folding her arms. He came past her and she closed the door. “Sorry if I’m interrupting dinner—”

“You know you’re not interrupting anything. You’re the reason Jason had to go to the warehouse, aren’t you?”

Sonny blinked, then grinned ruefully. “You’re pretty quick—”

“And you’re a shitty friend.”

The grin faded. “Excuse me?”

“Whoever called Jason made it sound serious.” She folded her arms. “He left right away. You did it so you could get me alone to talk to you about something Jason already said no to. You didn’t care if we had plans. You just cared about yourself.”

“Look, I get why Jason is angry at me, and I hate that it has to be this way. But this life means doing the hard things—”

“And it means you trying to shove a wedge between me and Jason because you think you’re right,” Elizabeth cut in sharply. Sonny stared at her blankly. “What do you expect is going to happen if Jason tells you no, and then I tell him that I’m on your side? You think Jason isn’t going to be mad at me?”

“Elizabeth—”

“But maybe that doesn’t matter to you since you already told Jason he can divorce me tomorrow if he wants to,” Elizabeth retorted. “So what do you care if Jason and I are fighting?”

“I never said it—is that what he told you?” Sonny demanded. “I told him he should just let things go until you want to make a change. No expiration dates—”

“I want to know why it was your business to even offer an opinion. Do you think Jason and I are morons?”

“Okay, maybe—”

“Do you think we wouldn’t have noticed in a few weeks that the PCPD had stopped sniffing around or that Carly wasn’t really a threat anymore? Do you think we need you to tell us what to do?”

“That’s not—”

“You told Jason he could divorce me any time and he came home to tell me that I had options,” Elizabeth spat. “Because he wanted me to know if I wanted out, I could go. Because that’s who Jason is. He didn’t want me to feel tied down or forced to stay. But it took me longer than it should have to figure that out, and so we spent most of yesterday pretty sure the other person wanted to leave.”

“I didn’t mean for that to happen—”

“I don’t care what your intentions were, okay? I care that you think you have a right to interfere in my life or Jason’s. We’re not your pawns to move around a chessboard.” Her chest burned. “And I don’t know what you did to hurt him and break his trust, but this sure as hell isn’t going to earn it back.”

“I’m not trying to earn it back,” Sonny said slowly. “If Jason’s in Port Charles and working for me, then he still needs to take orders from me. If he can’t handle it—”

“Then it’s your fault.” Elizabeth jerked the door open, once again startling Francis.  “You can get out. Jason speaks for both of us. If he tells you no, you don’t get to go around him.”

“This wedding reception is going to happen,” Sonny warned her as he went into the hall, turning back to face her. “I already told the others yes. So you tell Jason—”

She slammed the door before he could finish.

And all I want from you is what you are
And even if you’re right next to me
You’re still too far away
If I’m not inside your arms
I get dramatic, baby, yes I know
But I need you, I want you, oh man, I love you so
You’re gonna see
I’m gonna run, I’m gonna try
I’m gonna take this love right to ya
All my heart, all the joy
Oh baby, baby, please
– Rush Rush, Paul Abdul

---

Saturday, January 8, 2000

Morgan Penthouse: Hallway

It was past midnight when Jason finally climbed the stairs, and part of him was relieved. It was late enough that he was sure Elizabeth would be asleep and he wouldn’t have to think about that disastrous conversation in the kitchen.

He knew he’d messed everything up—had seen the way her entire body had flinched when he’d rejected her offer to make plans for after she’d finished work. The life had drained out of her eyes, the color fading her from her cheeks. He’d hurt her, and he didn’t know how to make it right.

When she’d smiled at him at the end, and it had been one of the smiles he’d seen her give everyone else last fall — hoping they’d believe it and think she was all right— it had slammed into him like a punch to the gut. He couldn’t stand thinking he was someone she thought she had to pretend with.

He hated knowing Sonny was right, that Jason had caused her all of this pain by not simply reassuring her that he wanted her to stay with him—

But it couldn’t be ruined completely, Jason reminded himself. Elizabeth hadn’t moved to the guest bedroom—which he’d seen yesterday was now furnished. She’d stayed in their bedroom, in their bed.

And she lay there now, fast asleep. As long as she was still here, he could fix this. He just had to open his damn mouth and tell her what he was thinking. And keep doing that. And then she’d never smile at him that way again, with the lie on her lips and the truth in her eyes.

He changed into a pair of sweat pants, then crawled into bed beside her, unsurprised when she didn’t stir. He laid on his back, and listened to her breathe.

Jason wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, but he must have because the next thing he knew, sunlight was sliding through the cracks in the curtains at the windows. He was still laying on his back, but Elizabeth had turned over in the night and was now facing him, still sleeping, a hand tucked beneath her cheek, her hair loose around her shoulders, curls falling over her face.

Her eyelids fluttered and she rolled onto her back, stretching her arms over her head, then crossing them over her eyes. “We need darker curtains,” she mumbled. “Can we get them in black?”

He turned, propping himself on his elbow. “What about the blinds?”

“You have money. We’ll get them custom made—” Elizabeth’s voice was still slurred as she drifted between a state of sleep and alertness.

“I can do that.”

She let her hands fall to her side, her eyes open now, still a bit unfocused. Watching her wake up, climb through the layers until she was fully awake, was one of his new favorite ways to spend the morning.

“Hey,” she said softly. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.”

“I spent yesterday,” she said, “thinking about what you said the other day. About not having to stay married.”

He braced himself. Would she want to annul things now? Had she already had enough?

“At first I thought you told me because you wanted me to be ready,” she continued. “Because maybe it wouldn’t even be six months. Maybe it’d be next month.”

Jason shook his head. “No—”

“And it hurt,” she admitted, her voice soft. “Because it was like you were already—because if we got divorced, we couldn’t—I mean, it would be weird and people would wonder. So it was like you were planning for the end—”

He was, but— “Not that way—”

“No, I know.” Now she smiled and this time it was real, he could see it in her eyes, in her cheeks, and feel it in the way her body was still relaxed from sleep. “You told me because you wanted me to have a choice.”

The tension slid from him and he nodded. “Because you needed to know, but—”

“I talked to Alexis.”

Jason frowned. “What?”

“She doesn’t agree with Sonny.” She rolled over so that she could see him. “About the PCPD just going away.”

“Oh.” Relief swirled in his gut. He still had time.

“But if Sonny were right…” Elizabeth hesitated. “If Alexis said we didn’t need the year…” her eyes searched his. “Would you still want it? I mean, if we had the choice.”

“We did have the choice,” Jason reminded. “I made mine.”

“Before the wedding, yeah. But now, it would be different. Carly isn’t a threat anymore.” Elizabeth nibbled at her bottom lip. “Would—would you agree with Sonny? That we’d just stay married until we didn’t want to be?”

“Isn’t that what everyone does? They stop being married when they don’t want to be anymore?” It wasn’t an answer to her question, he knew that, but he wasn’t really sure now that she was asking it. He didn’t want things to change right now, but he knew that wasn’t what she wanted to know.

“I guess.” Elizabeth paused. “But it’s different. I don’t know. And I don’t think we should just ignore it like it doesn’t matter.”

He hesitated. “I’m not doing that—”

“We both are.” She sighed, stared at the ceiling. “I knew we’d be married for a year, and I thought, well that’s enough time to figure out what this is, so that’s fine. And you know, I think I was expecting you to be done with me by then.”

Jason scowled. “Done with you—”

“Or maybe I’d be ready to move on,” she said, and he stopped again. “Which would make that year agreement a relief, right? An out. An exit plan.”

“Right—”

“But what if we don’t want an exit plan in a year?” Elizabeth rolled on her side, waited for him to look at her. “What if we still want to be together? That’s—I mean, that could happen. Do we just stay married?”

“I—”

“I don’t think it’s right to just…drift into marriage either, and that’s all we’d be doing. Marriage—it should be a promise.” She met his eyes. “We didn’t make it. Not the way I’d want to. Um, does that make sense?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Yeah. It does.” And he didn’t have an easy answer to that.

“And we’re not ready to talk about making that promise.” She slid closer and he tugged her into his arms, relieved that she fit just the way she had the day before. “I’m not trying to get you to do that.”

“I know that.”

“I just—I don’t want to ruin the chance that maybe one day…” The tips of her fingers traced a pattern on his chest. “Maybe we’d want to.”

“We won’t.” He kissed the top of her head. “As long as we’re honest with each other. If—if you change your mind—if you don’t want to be here anymore—”

“I’ll tell you.” She tiled her head up so that their eyes met again. “And you’ll tell me if you’re the one that changes their mind. That’s — that’s a promise we should be able to make.”

“It’s an easy one.” He brushed his mouth against hers.

“Do you have to be anywhere?” she murmured.

“No.”

“Good. Can we just lay here for a little while? I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” He tightened his arms around her, and they lay together in the quiet, early morning. Just the two of them.

---

A few hours later, Elizabeth emerged from the bathroom, and when she found Jason still in the room, standing at the dresser to pull out clothes for the day, she decided to take it as a sign.

“Hey, um, do you have something to do today?” she asked, forcing a casualness to her tone, even as she slid her eyes over the muscles in his back, and the smooth expanse of his chest when he turned to answer her question.

“No,” he said, and her cheeks flushed when she dragged her eyes up to meet his, to find him smiling because he’d probably known what she was looking at.

She could do this. She could absolutely do this, and reminded herself that Jason had made it clear for more than a week now that he was physically attracted to her, but it was easy to forget that. She was…who she was and built the way she was, and Jason was older and he’d been with other women—how many, she wondered idly, and how could she possibly—

“Did you want to do something?”

His question jerked her out of her thoughts and she bit her lip, folded her arms. She mentally cheered when his eyes drifted down—the strap of her tank top had slid down her shoulder. Okay, so maybe—

“Yes. I—” She stepped forward. Just a single step because it was literally all she could manage. Everything felt tingly and heavy and strange. How did you ask a man to take off his clothes? Was it too fast? But he’d done it a few days ago, she reminded herself—

“Elizabeth?” Jason prompted. He closed the dresser drawer, then strode towards her, stopping a few feet away. He tipped his head to the side. “What did you want to do?”

You.

She knew she hadn’t said it out loud, but maybe it was in her eyes because the blue in his seemed to change shades, darkening, and there was a tenseness in his chest that hadn’t been there earlier. Not tense. That wasn’t the right word. But she could literally see his body tighten.

She was an adult woman who was married to this man. She could ask for it, couldn’t she? He wouldn’t laugh at her or say no.

Elizabeth lifted her chin, took a deep breath. “Um, a few days ago. Before the search warrant, I mean. We were talking about…and we were—” She gestured at him. “I just, um, didn’t want you to think I wasn’t still thinking about it—” Stop babbling, moron, she chided herself.

Jason caught her hand and drew her closer until their bodies brushed. He dipped his head and kissed her, and all of the nerves fled her body like rain cascading from the sky. She loved the flavor of him, the mint from his toothpaste, the way he always tasted just a little like coffee—

Her hands dug into the skin just beneath his shoulder blades, addicted to the way his skin felt like silk stretched over steel. And his heart pounded against her chest as Jason dragged her closer, his fingers tangled in her hair, sliding through until he’d released it from the band she’d been wearing. It spilled down around her face and shoulders.

Jason drew back just slightly, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his breathing shallow and the color in his cheeks raised. She’d done that to him, she had to remind herself. He’d been touching and kissing her and she’d made him that way—

“What do you want to do?” he repeated, but now the question sounded different, his voice thicker and pitched lower. And she wasn’t as scared as she’d been before. She wasn’t worried he’d laugh at her or refuse.

And she thought maybe she wasn’t scared of anything anymore. How could she be when this was Jason in front of her? The man who had slept beside her for more than a week? She knew the weight of his body now, the gentleness inside of it, the softness—he could never hurt her.

Elizabeth slid her hand up his chest, her fingers resting just below his collar bone. Below the bobbing of his throat as his heart continue to beat rapidly against her body. She needed to put what she wanted into words, because she knew—she knew—he wouldn’t touch her until she gave him permission. Until she told him what she wanted.

She could hear her heart so loudly it was pounding in her ears, but she knew what to do. How to tell him she was ready. She took a step forward, and he stepped back. She took another step, and he understood—

His knees hit the edge of the bed and Jason slowly sank down on the edge of the mattress, sliding back slightly. Her pulse was skittering now, and her hands were nearly shaking as she lifted a leg to rest on the bed beside him. Jason’s hands went to her hips, supporting her as she slid the other leg across him.

His fingers had slid beneath the edge of her tank top, where it had separated from the top of her sleep shorts, the touch scorching against her bare skin. His eyes were still locked on hers, and his hands didn’t move.

She could feel him against her now and it wasn’t the first time he’d been aroused, the heaviness against her body. The mornings she woke up curled around him, he’d always been hard — and he’d always rolled away and said nothing.

Elizabeth had never been scared of him in those moments, and now, knowing that they were close to the next step, to the step she’d never been able to take—

“Are you okay?” he asked, roughly.

Elizabeth just smiled, rested her forehead against his, her hands touching his face, just letting herself settle. She could stay here forever, his warm body against hers, reminding her that she wasn’t damaged. That she was more than the girl who’d crawled out of the bushes.

“You could never hurt me,” she answered softly. “I’m ready for this. I trust you.”

“Elizabeth, I can wait as long as you need me to,” he promised. He brushed her hair out of her face, his hands warm on her neck. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know. But I don’t want to wait anymore. I want to know.” She kissed him, reaching for his hands. She laced their fingers together, then brought them to her body, sliding beneath her tank top. “I want you to—” She lost the words then, her breath failing as his thumbs brushed the underside of her breasts. “Please.”

“I need you to say it,” he murmured against her throat as she dipped her head back. “You’re in charge, remember?”

Oh, he was so mean, she thought, dropping her head back to glare at him. Jason just laughed at her, his eyes sparkling with mischief and amusement. Elizabeth arched a brow. Two could play that game, she decided and she rocked her hips back, then forward—and now he was the one who lost his breath for a moment.

“You were saying?” she murmured.

Jason slid the hem of her top slowly up, his eyes on hers, waiting for her to say anything to stop him. But she wouldn’t. She couldn’t.

And then it was gone, tossed somewhere in the room, and she still wasn’t scared. Still wasn’t pulling back.

“I want this,” she told him softly. “And I want it to be you.”

He was so careful with her, moving almost too slowly at times and even when Elizabeth expected him to roll them, so that she was on her back and he’d rise over her—he never did. Maybe he thought it would scare her—

But she didn’t think about any of that—couldn’t have. She was lost in the way his hands felt on hers, the way his body tensed, then nearly quivered as she explored with her fingers. She wanted to spend forever just learning every piece of him—

And then the moment came that she’d been terrified of—the moment she’d had nightmares about and panic attacks—and it was as natural and as beautiful as she’d dreamed. She wasn’t being ripped apart and broken, but pieced back together and made to feel whole for the first time in years.

And he kept those beautiful eyes on hers every minute as he slid inside, waiting for her to stop him, to give him a signal, the worry mixed with lust she could see and feel brought tears to her eyes. This wonderful man who managed to always put her first even when anyone else would be thinking of his own pleasure—

“Are you all right?” he managed when it was over and she lay on his chest, sweat glistening on their skin, their breathing shallow and rapid, the sunlight sliding through the curtains and bathing the room in golden light. Or maybe that was inside her mind. It was hard to say, hard to separate the dream from the reality.

“Better than,” she breathed, closing her eyes and drifting. “Perfect.”

No Name Restaurant: Private Dining Room

Sonny frowned when he entered the room and only saw Sammy Tagliatti and Daniel Vega waiting—no Sorel.  An emergency meeting already didn’t bode all that well — but one missing the most unpredictable member wasn’t particularly encouraging.

“Uh, you commanded my presence?” he said, rubbing his chin.

“Sonny.” Daniel Vega rose. “Take seat—”

“No, thanks. I’ll stand.” Sonny rested his hands on the back of the seat left empty for him. “What did you need?”

“We’ve been discussing the matter of Joseph Sorel,” Vega continued, resuming his seat at the other end of the table, clearly elected to lead this particular meeting. He steepled his fingers in front of him. “And we thought that perhaps we might offer you a chance to make good on some…broken promises.”

Sonny tensed. “Broken promises,” he repeated.

“Two years ago,” Vega continued, “you were supposed to marry the lovely Brenda Barrett. We were invited to attend, and continue the tradition of trading favors in honor of the marriage.”

“The marriage didn’t happen—” Sonny said, his throat tight, remembering that terrible day. And Brenda, lost forever to the deep, still waters of the lake.

“Yes, my Carlotta was quite disappointed in you to not even have the decency to call off the ceremony before it began.”

Sonny grimaced. “What’s your point? What does that have to do with Sorel?”

“We’d like to arrange a way to rid ourselves of the pest,” Vega said. “And celebrate your partner’s marriage in a manner befitting such a lovely bride. We’ll hold a reception here at the No Name. Sorel will be reluctantly invited. We will celebrate the young love of Mr. Morgan and the lovely Elizabeth, and then we will solve our Sorel problem.”

Sonny hesitated, then swallowed the immediate denial that came to mind. Jason would never agree to it — he’d never want Elizabeth to be part of this.

But he took an extra moment, took a look at Tagliatti who had said nothing, leaving the entire matter in Vega’s hands.

“All right. Let’s talk details.”

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

Jason wasn’t one for dreams — when he closed his eyes, there was nothing between falling asleep and waking up. But if he dreamed, he didn’t think he’d be able to think of anything that was better than this moment.

Elizabeth was in his arms, curled up and dozing, her body soft and relaxed tucked against his, as if she’d been designed to fit there. She’d picked today of all days to take the next step—one he hadn’t thought possible for at least a few more weeks.

He’d fumbled so badly the other day—and yesterday—letting her think that he didn’t want to be with her anymore, and somehow, without Jason doing anything to fix it, Elizabeth had found a way to bridge that awkwardness—to resolve their tension—

It almost didn’t feel fair, Jason thought, for her to have been the one to fix it when he’d broken it in the first place. But maybe that was okay. Maybe it was supposed to be like this.

“Can’t we just stay like this all day?” Elizabeth murmured, her lashes fluttering. Her eyes remained closed.

“We could,” he murmured against her forehead. “If you don’t want to eat anything.”

“I’m afraid if I move—” She stopped, her voice faltering, and Jason was startled when he felt something damp on his chest, and Elizabeth rolled away from him hiding her face.

“Elizabeth?”

“It’s stupid.”

“Hey. It’s not.” Jason leaned down, kissed her shoulder, left bare by the sheet that had slid away when she’d moved. “Talk to me.”

“I just…” Elizabeth rolled to her back, and he hovered over her, worried about the shimmer of tears he still saw in her eyes. “What if I wake up and it’s all a dream? Sometimes dreams feel so real when you’re in them, and then you wake up, and it’s so much worse. Because—”

Jason dipped his head to hide the smile tugging at his lips. He nuzzled her neck, then—nipped her collarbone. She jerked, startled. Her eyes wide. “Still think it’s a dream?” he asked.

“You think that’s funny, don’t you?” Her eyes narrowed.

“A little.” He grinned and the irritation smoothed away from her expression. “It’s not a dream,” he told her. “And if we get up and get dressed, it doesn’t mean we can’t come right back in here later and do this all over again. If that’s what you want to do.”

Elizabeth studied him. “Is that what you want to do?”

“Spending the day in bed with you,” Jason told her, his voice deepening, “is all I’ve wanted to do since the first time I kissed you.”

“Really?”

“I told you—” he swept his thumb across her bottom lip, then leaned down to kiss her again. “I told you days ago that I wanted you.”

“I know.”

He stroked the long line of her torso with his fingertips, until he reached her knee, lifting it so that she rested more firmly against him. She bit her lip again— “Every time you do that, you know what it makes me want to do?” he asked her.

“What?”

He kissed her, taking that bottom lip into his mouth and flicking his tongue over the nicks her teeth had left. She sighed, tangled her fingers in his hair. He started to raise himself over her, to cover her, then stopped.

“What’s wrong?” she murmured, her eyes unfocused. “Don’t you—”

“Do you want to?” he asked. Her expression cleared and she realized what he meant. She’d needed to be in charge, to make the moves. And he’d made sure she was on top, completely in control of moving.

This way, with her underneath him—he’d stop if she wanted him to, but he didn’t want her to feel trapped. To feel fear or anxiety even for a moment.

He slid his hand down to cover her heart, feeling its rapid beat beneath his fingers. “I need you to be okay,” he said, almost roughly. “To want this, too.”

“I do.” She swallowed hard. “And just like this. I do. You would do it this way with anyone else—”

“You’re not anyone else,” he cut in.

“But I want to be.” Her eyes filled again and he exhaled. Better to have this conversation now then be in the middle and hurt her worse. Jason swept her up, rolling so that he was sitting up and she was in his lap, straddling him.  “Jason—”

“I need you to listen to me,” he said, a bit more roughly than he meant to. He cupped her head by the nape of her neck and kissed her hard, until she was panting and her eyes were glazed over again. “Look at me and listen, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I want you. Like this. Underneath me. Against the wall. In the shower. Bent—” he stopped as her eyes widened, not with surprise or shock, but something else and he really needed to finish this part without being distracted again. “But you are not just a body in my bed. You’re not anyone else,” he repeated. “You’re Elizabeth. And I don’t want you, not for one minute, to feel anything but good when you’re with me. That’s all that matters. I need you to understand that. As long as I have my hands on you—I don’t care how it happens.”

She smiled tremulously. “You really mean that.”

She was going to kill him. “Yes.”

Elizabeth licked her lips and he thought maybe he’d just kill her instead— “Then I think I want all of the above. Including the one you didn’t finish.”

“What?”

“Maybe not all at once,” she continued, wiggling until his eyes nearly crossed, and she smirked. Fast learner, he thought.  “But definitely making a list.”

He groaned, dropped his forehead until it rested against her collarbone. “You’re going to kill me,” he said, this time out loud, and he felt her laugh, more than heard it.

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” She tilted his head back up, cupped his jaw with her hands so that their eyes met again. “I mean that. When you look at me, when I’m in your arms like this, there’s nothing else. I was so scared it wouldn’t be like that. But it’s just us. Just you.”

He swept her hair back, kissed the hollow of her throat. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want to be underneath you.” Her hands braced at his shoulders. “If that’s okay.”

“That…is definitely okay,” he managed after a moment to take a deep breath. Then he gave her exactly what she wanted.

I’m too shy to ask, I’m to proud to lose
But sooner or later I’ve got to choose
And once again I’m thinking about
Taking the easy way out
But if I let you go I will never know
What my life would be holding you close to me
Will I ever see you smiling back at me?
How will I know if I let you go?
– If I Let You Go, Westlife

---

Friday, January 7, 2000

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

The skies were just beginning to lighten with hints of dawn as Jason finally got home, after a shipment had arrived three hours later than they’d expected and a chunk had been missing—

Cursing the security at the border which had held up a second shipload, Jason was feeling the edges of exhaustion fighting at the edges. He didn’t need a lot of sleep, but he still needed some, and there hadn’t been much to go around lately. They’d gone to bed late after the PCPD had destroyed the penthouse, and he’d woken with Elizabeth at four-thirty in the morning for her shift at Kelly’s.

Now he stood in the middle of his living room as weak, gray morning light illuminated a room that had been mostly bare the day before — the only piece of furniture to get delivered before he’d left had been the pool table.

A leather sofa that looked similar to the one the cops had destroyed had been delivered, along with a matching arm chair. A new coffee table sat in front of the sofa — and a console table with a new television set.

He glanced towards the stairs, to the bedroom he’d shared with Elizabeth for nearly a week. He’d left yesterday with a strange tension in the air — she hadn’t really reacted to his news about the time limit on their marriage, and he didn’t really know what to do with that.

She hadn’t seemed disappointed or relieved — two emotions he would have understood. Something in the middle that left him uncomfortable and questioning himself — which was not a position he enjoyed.

He considered just stretching out on the sofa for a few hours, but would that hurt her? Would she be angry he didn’t come upstairs? Would she care?

He exhaled slowly. Only one way to find out.

He removed his boots before he went up the stairs, his steps not making a sound on the carpet. He stopped outside their bedroom door, then looked over at the third bedroom which hadn’t been taken over as her temporary art studio.

What if the furniture downstairs meant that she’d also ordered a bed for that room? Maybe she wouldn’t even be in the master bedroom. After all, it wasn’t like the PCPD would come back to search and notice separate bedrooms.

Jason didn’t realize how much he’d expected to find an empty room until he twisted the knob and gently pushed it open.

There was a light still on at the side of the bed. Elizabeth was on her side, curled up, eyes closed. She’d fallen asleep, the magazine she’d been reading on the floor beside the bed, her fingertips dangling of the edge as if she’d turned over and let it fall.

She was here. And she was asleep. He had time to think.

Jason changed into a pair of sweats, then switched off the light, picking up the magazine so she wouldn’t slip on it when she woke up. Then he climbed into bed next to her, listening to her breathing, soft and even.

He’d grown used to it since she’d come to stay there, liked sharing a bed with her and it filled him with pride that she trusted him enough to sleep beside him every night. She’d been so nervous that first night, but now it was normal.

He liked Sonny’s idea of just leaving the idea of divorce off the table until they wanted to think about it. Eventually, she’d leave him. She accepted things for now, more than Robin had and differently from Carly, but one day, she’d want something else. He’d handle it when it came, but until then, he’d hold on to what they had now. He just hoped Elizabeth would let him.

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

Taggert folded his arms. “How long did it take you to cave to Alexis Davis?” he demanded.

“Not just me.” Mac said, getting to his feet and going to close the door to the office. “She showed up here yesterday morning with a lawsuit already written, prepared to file if I refused to take the meeting. The last thing this department needs is a public relations nightmare like this—”

“Suspend Capelli, but let me have my investigation—”

“The city’s attorney took one look at the lawsuit, the photos, and that damned dress, and told me that we’re lucky all Alexis Davis asked for was us to back off Elizabeth Morgan.” Mac scowled. “Don’t make that face. That’s her name now. You’re making this personal because you like her—”

“And you don’t?”

“She’s married to him,” Mac said bluntly. “We can speculate all we want why she did it—”

“They were not sleeping together a month ago, damn it! Carly might not be credible, but you know her statement lines up with the facts! You know that’s how it went down!”

“What we know and what we can prove are different,” Mac said, and Taggert just shook his head. “Are there any other witnesses other than Carly that can corroborate Morgan getting shot last month?”

“If we can get him in for a physical—”

“We might get lucky and get a new scar. But no judge is signing a warrant after Capelli destroyed that bedroom. The downstairs was bad enough—but that bedroom, that dress—you’re not getting anything. And Carly is not enough to go into a court room. Alexis Davis would tear her apart.”

Taggert scowled. “So that’s it. Morgan gets to walk away again—”

“You didn’t have anything on him to begin with. A gunshot wound doesn’t tie him to Moreno—”

“The timing—”

“Circumstantial. And you can’t even drag Elizabeth in and subpoena her—”

“Because he married the best witness against him!” Taggert exploded. “Why am I the only one who sees it?”

“Prove it. Go ahead. Prove their marriage isn’t real.” Mac lifted a brow when the detective remained silent. “You want to question her again, you go through Alexis. You want to question Jason, you go through Alexis—”

“Conflict of interest—”

“Prove it,” Mac repeated. “You get me evidence that Jason only married Elizabeth to circumvent the legal system, then we can take it to the city attorney. But until then — you can investigate Moreno’s death all you want. But stay away from the Morgans.”

Morgan Penthouse: Kitchen

Elizabeth had just sat at the table with her hot chocolate and a bagel when Jason strode in, stopping short at the doorway. They looked at each other for a long moment, then he cleared his throat. “I thought you had work.”

“I did—I do. Um, the lunch shift.” Was that the only reason he’d come downstairs? She’d been surprised to find him still asleep when she’d woken—he so rarely slept longer than she did. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

Jason opened a cabinet, took down a bag of coffee beans. “I didn’t get in until four.”

She flicked her eyes at the clock over the stove. Four hours ago. “You could have slept longer.”

“I have to take care of something at the warehouse.” He switched on the grinder, the loud sound forestalling further conversation.

The day before, they’d woken up together — her alarm waking him first, actually, and he’d had to nudge her awake. She’d smiled, and stretched lazily—and then they’d spent a few more minutes in bed—

Her cheeks felt hot, and she glanced down at her breakfast. Today was different. He had barely looked at her—and he was such a light sleeper, she realized now it was hard to believe he’d slept through her shower and getting dressed — only to wake up directly after her and take a shower of his own.

Which meant he’d laid in bed, pretending to be asleep and hoping he’d miss her entirely.

Doubt swirled in her chest, and everything felt heavy—like it was a chore just to hold up her own head. Did Jason—did he regret how hastily they’d gotten married? Now that he knew it didn’t need to last even a year. What if they’d found another way to stop Carly —

Maybe Sonny giving him an out made Jason realize he didn’t want to be married, or worse—

Elizabeth pushed her plate aside, picked up her hot chocolate. “Um, I get done work around eight,” she told him. He glanced over to her, then back at the coffee pot. “I was—maybe we could—”

“It’s supposed to rain,” he cut in, and she closed his mouth. “And I’ll probably be at the warehouse most of the day. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“Right.” She forced herself to take a sip. He was pulling back, pushing her away — either way, the dynamic had shifted. She didn’t know how to fix it. What if she was just making this all up in her head—

“Hey.”

Elizabeth blinked, cleared her throat, and found Jason at the table. He pulled out a chair and sat down. “Hey,” she said almost weakly.

“I was out of the picture for almost a month,” Jason reminded her, his eyes soft — and she relaxed. “Sonny held up a couple of—” He paused. “Shipments,” he finally said, and she nodded. “He didn’t reschedule until he knew I was back at work. The Christmas party, Moreno, and then…it just means I’m going to be busy for a few nights. Tonight definitely.”

“Okay.”

“But you have Francis to take you anywhere you want to go.” Jason went back to the counter, finished making his coffee, and she felt the withdrawal like a sharp, cold snap. “And I left the bank stuff on the desk—”

“I don’t want your money,” Elizabeth muttered.  Especially now. It felt…more like a transaction than it had before. Hadn’t they just been looking at wedding photos? How had it gone so badly?

“I know. And I know you won’t use it. But I’d feel better if you had at least one of the debit cards—”

“One of?” Elizabeth scowled. “We agreed that you’d set up one account—”

“One that’s just yours, yeah. But I’ve got others. You’re on them now. And there’s a credit card. Maybe two. Alexis thought you might—” Jason glanced over at her. “In case there’s an emergency. She left some forms for you to sign. I didn’t get a chance to tell you yesterday.”

“Forms?”

“Uh—” Jason came over to the table with his coffee. “Forms for a name change,” he said finally. “Social security, DMV—”

Name change. It hadn’t seemed like a big deal a few days earlier, but now— “Do you think I should still do that? Change my last name?”

Jason hesitated. “You don’t have to. I mean—” He met her eyes briefly, then as he’d done before, looked away. Focused on his coffee. “It’s your name. It doesn’t matter to me.”

She knew that was true. She knew that he probably wouldn’t care even if he’d gotten down on one knee and promised her forever. But somehow, hearing it today, it felt different. As if none of this mattered at all.

Why go through all the paperwork if the time limit was gone? They could have a fight in three weeks and break up. No reason to stick now.

“I’ll look at the forms,” she said finally. “And talk to Alexis. See what she thinks.”

“Okay.”

“I should—I need to do some more work upstairs.” Elizabeth picked up her hot chocolate. “Um, let me know if you go anywhere, I guess. If you can.” She flashed a quick smile, then headed for the door, tossing her barely touched bagel in the trash on the way.

“Yeah. I will.”

She hurried out of the kitchen, irritated with herself for not pushing the conversation further, and sick with knowing that she’d only backed off because she’d been afraid of the answers.

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

“Everything go okay last night?” Sonny wanted to know when Jason came by later that day. Jason shoved his hands in his pockets, trying not to glower at his partner. It wasn’t Sonny’s fault that Jason had somehow killed his own marriage, but damned if Jason didn’t want to punch him all the same.

“Yeah, nothing that didn’t get resolved. Last round of shipments are tonight, aren’t they? And then nothing until next week?”

“That’s the plan.” Sonny sipped his coffee. “You got something else to do this weekend?”

Not that it mattered now, Jason thought darkly. He’d thought about checking Elizabeth’s work schedule and seeing if she’d go away for a night or two. Not to pressure her anything, but well, it was what people did, wasn’t it? When they got married?

But that had been before. Now she didn’t even want to change her name, even though she’d asked Alexis for the damn forms in the first place—

“No. Just wanted to know.”

Sonny hesitated. “Everything okay?”

“Yes.”

“Doesn’t sound like it—”

“It’s none of your business either,” Jason cut in, sharply, and Sonny exhaled. Set his coffee down. “So just stay out of it.”

“If this is about yesterday, what I said—I didn’t tell you to get divorced tomorrow. I just thought—you should check with Alexis first—”

Jason scowled. “Wait. I thought you said that she—”

“No. She didn’t. She was meeting with the PCPD yesterday, but it won’t change anything. The cops still won’t be able to touch Elizabeth after that search.” Sonny got to his feet. “Before, it was spousal privilege protecting Elizabeth. Now it’s Capelli’s impulse control and the witness intimidation.”

“Why did you say anything then?” he demanded.

Sonny rubbed his chin. “Uh, I have to say I’m a little baffled why you’re angry with me. All I did was tell you—”

“That Elizabeth doesn’t need to be married to me,” Jason interrupted.

“No, that’s not what I said. I said you might not need a year. No one said anything about Elizabeth not—” Sonny stopped. “Did you talk to Elizabeth about this? Does she want a divorce? Or annulment?”

“No.” Jason raked a hand through his hair. “Not yet.”

“No, you didn’t talk to her—”

“She didn’t ask for one yet,” Jason said, his teeth clenched. “But now she’s talking about not changing her name—”

“Ah.” Sonny nodded, and Jason wanted to deck him — why did he have to look so smug? What did he have to be smug about? “That explains it.”

“Explains what?”

“You told Elizabeth you didn’t have to be married a year.” He tipped his head. “Why did you tell her anything at all if you wanted to stay married?”

“What?”

“You’re ticked at me because I told you the time limit had changed. I’m not the one who turned around and told her,” Sonny pointed out. “So I’m asking you why would you open your mouth and give her an out if you’re happy with the way things are?”

Jason grimaced, looked away. “That’s not the point.”

“No, I think it’s exactly the point. You could be pissed at me if I’d told Elizabeth, because that wouldn’t be my business. But I didn’t do that. So you told her and she didn’t immediately leap into your arms and declare she wasn’t going anywhere, and now somehow I’m the bad guy.”

“That’s—” Not what he’d wanted Elizabeth to do, not exactly. Frustrated, Jason folded his arms. But maybe he’d wanted some indication that Elizabeth was okay with things staying the way they were. “You’re not understanding the problem—”

“I’m understanding clearly. You’re the one who doesn’t understand—”

Jason tensed. “I’m not stupid.”

Sonny’s brow creased in confusion. “I didn’t say you were—”

“Then what the hell do you mean?”

Sonny hesitated. “Sometimes when you’re in the middle of the situation, when it’s happening to you, it’s hard to see it from an outside perspective. Elizabeth is probably having the same doubts you are.”

Jason didn’t know what that meant, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to admit that to Sonny. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew how to solve his own problems, and he didn’t need Sonny to explain women to him.

“You don’t know Elizabeth—”

“Not as well as you do, no. But I’m just asking you to think about it from her perspective. She got married three days ago and now her husband tells her they don’t have to stay married that long. Maybe she’s wondering why he’s bringing it up if he’s happy with how things are.”

Jason clenched his jaw. “I brought it up because you told me yesterday. And she deserved to know—”

“—in case she wanted an out,” Sonny said. “Which is great. Except she already had an out, Jason. You’re the one that told me getting married was her idea. She convinced you.” He lifted his brows. “Did you happen to mention that you wanted to stay married?”

“I—” Jason closed his mouth. “I’m going to the warehouse.” He yanked the penthouse door open and left before Sonny could say anything else.

He didn’t need Sonny to fix his problems. He could do it himself. Even if—Jason winced as he punched the button at the elevator.

Even if Sonny was probably right, which only made Jason’s mood worse.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Elizabeth paced the length of the room, trying to determine if she’d lost her mind. She’d had a thought halfway through her shift at Kelly’s, and had begged Tammy to let her go early. Tammy had agreed, dropping another hint about Elizabeth quitting her job.

There was a knock on the door, and then Francis opened it. “Ms. Davis is here.”

Thank God. Elizabeth turned as Alexis entered and set her briefcase on the desk. When the door closed, Elizabeth didn’t waste any time. “You met with the PCPD yesterday, right?”

“Yes. I would have thought Sonny or Jason would have told you—” Alexis saw the forms on the desk, still unsigned. “You didn’t do the paperwork? I thought I was that was why you’d asked me to come over. To pick it up.”

“That’s—that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Sonny told Jason yesterday that he didn’t think we’d need to stay married for a year anymore. Jason told me that, and I didn’t ask about the PCPD—does that mean—”

“I’m not sure what Sonny meant by that. The agreement I made with the PCPD was that they can’t question either of you without me present. I don’t have the power to get them to drop the investigation.” Alexis tilted her head. “They’re not going to approach you, for at least a year. They have to come through me. Otherwise, we file the harassment suit. But the investigation—it doesn’t go away.”

“So we still need the year.”

“I don’t—” Alexis paused. “Are you asking me if you get divorced earlier? Is something wrong? What happened—”

“N-Nothing. I just—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Does Jason know that? What you just told me? That they still need to—”

“Sonny does. I got the impression from Mac that he wouldn’t mind breaking spousal privilege. The search warrant fiasco makes it hard for him to come at you,” Alexis continued, “but he can’t subpoena you right now. If they could prove your marriage wasn’t real or that you entered it solely to circumvent the law—that’s different. I never mentioned anything to Sonny about the time you have to stay married. And I wasn’t worried about Mac proving the marriage false.”

“You weren’t?” Elizabeth frowned. “Why? It is—I mean, that’s why—”

“Is that the only reason you married Jason?” Alexis asked, and Elizabeth flushed. “You see? They can’t prove that. You and Jason have a romantic connection that precedes the ceremony. You’d look like that if they asked you the question, and no judge would invalidate the privilege. It’s not like you were strangers.” She cleared her throat. “Elizabeth, did something happen? Because you and Jason seemed to be…well, I don’t know, on the same team when I spoke to you the other night. Have you—did you argue with him?”

“No. Nothing like that. It’s just—” She shook her head. “He told me what Sonny said, and he said we could just be married until we didn’t want to be anymore, and so I thought—”

“Maybe he was bringing it up because he didn’t want to be,” Alexis finished gently, and Elizabeth nodded, almost miserably. “Ah. Well, that’s not something I can really help you with.”

“I guess not.” Elizabeth sank onto the sofa. “I thought I’d be relieved if you told me we still need to stay married for a year. I expected it.”

“But now you’ve got the doubts.”

“Some. It’s—it’s not that I’d back out,” Elizabeth said quickly. “Because I can’t. I just…I can’t stand wondering if he wants out, too—”

“Speaking as an outsider who doesn’t know either you incredibly well—” Alexis perched on the sofa next to her. “But also as someone who attended your wedding—”

“That wasn’t—it wasn’t real—”

“Until Carly showed up, I think everyone in that room forgot why you started this whole thing,” Alexis said. “I certainly did. Jason didn’t look like a man who was being marched to the altar.”

“I know, but—”

“My track record in this area is—not good,” she said after a short pause. “And I’m sure you know by now that my marriage to Jax was not real.”

“No, it was like me and Jason—”

“I assure you, it was nothing like that,” Alexis said. “Jax and I were just friends. Separate bedrooms. Only kissed him at the ceremony.” She made a face. “Again, I can’t say that I know Jason that well, but I just—I don’t think he’s looking for an out.”

“Then why would he tell me we can get divorced whenever we—” Elizabeth paused. “To give me the out. So I’d know there was a choice.”

“There’s not—”

“No, but he thought there was. And he wanted me to know it.” Elizabeth took a deep breath, then went over to the desk where she’d half filled out the forms the day before. She picked up a pen, and scrawled her name at the bottom.

Then she looked at the bank cards sitting next to the form. Two debit cards for Elizabeth Morgan, and one credit card in that name. She picked them up and slid them in her back pocket. She’d never use them, but Jason would feel better knowing she had the option.

She straightened the papers, then held them out for Alexis. “How soon can you file these?”

I may appear to be free
But I’m just a prisoner of your love
And I may seem alright and smile when you leave
But my smiles are just a front
Just a front, hey
And I play it off, but I’m dreaming of you
And I’ll keep my cool, but I’m fiendin’
– I Try, Macy Gray

---

Thursday, January 6, 2000

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

The next morning, Sonny was surprised to see Jason arriving just after eight. “Where’s Elizabeth?”

“She had to go back to work this morning,” Jason said. He disappeared into the kitchen to make himself a mug of coffee, then joined Sonny at the table. “She had the opening shift.”

Sonny grimaced, sipped his own coffee. “It’s a nightmare to secure that diner,” he muttered. “Are sure we can’t talk her into taking a break? Sorel’s been warned, but he’s a moron.”

Jason didn’t much like it either, but he’d promised Elizabeth. “She has to pay for tuition,” he muttered. And she’d left the envelope of financial stuff he’d given her on the desk, her face screwed up with irritation when he’d given it to her that morning. He’d added her to the bank accounts and credit cards, so he’d had a checkbook and some cards for her to use.

“Well, if she were the type to take all the money you offered, then we probably wouldn’t be here.” Sonny shrugged it off. “We’ll make it work. The deal with Sorel will hold for a few weeks, maybe a month. He’ll wait until he think the others aren’t looking.”

“I know it.”

“But we bought ourselves some breathing room, and hey, we got a break—turns out Carly’s threat wasn’t that serious.” Sonny shrugged. “She’s neutralized—”

Jason hesitated, then shook his head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to just write her off that way. Maybe she can’t put me in jail right now, but—”

“But the threat to Elizabeth and Bobbie isn’t there anymore, either. She left Bobbie out of the statement — and no one is going to let her go back and add on to it after the debacle last night. Legally, Carly can’t do anything. She might still try to torment you or go after Elizabeth, but what damage can she really do?”

That was a stupid question to ask, Jason knew, but Sonny hadn’t really paid attention to Carly before the last few months. And it was strange how the feelings of betrayal had faded when only a few weeks earlier, it had sent Jason spiraling, led him to collapse in the snow with nothing to live for.

Instead, he had Elizabeth. He hated what Sonny had done and still had no desire to revisit that night, but in the long run—

Maybe it had been a favor.

“We’ll keep an eye on her,” Sonny was saying, “but I think you and Elizabeth should be fine to do the paperwork in maybe six months—”

“Paperwork—” Jason frowned at him. “What paperwork?”

“Divorce,” Sonny said, tipping his head to the side. “I know we were thinking this would be long-term, but Alexis said that the Moreno case is dead in the water. She’s meeting with them today to make that clear. The cops harassed Elizabeth one too many times. Without her corroborating or denying an alibi, it’s Carly’s word against yours. And they have zero evidence against you to back her up.” He picked up his coffee. “Capelli screwed them.”

“I don’t—” Jason couldn’t wrap his mind around any of this. The ring on his finger still heavy and strange, still new enough to feel out of place, and Sonny was already talking about ending it— “I know it kills Carly as evidence—”

“They didn’t have much to go on before,” Sonny reminded Jason. “Elizabeth was it. They know she was with you that night, but she never confirmed or elaborated on the times. Now, after that search warrant bullshit, they can’t even pull her in for questioning. Our guy at the PCPD said the plan was to do the warrants at the penthouse and studio, use Nikolas Cassadine as a backup for you being at the studio. He corroborates Carly on that, at least. Maybe Audrey or Bobbie get dragged in for that—”

“But—”

“Alexis said we might still be in danger of a physical search warrant for you,” Sonny continued. “To look you over for bullet wounds—”

Jason reflexively reached for the scar on his abdomen, the skin still shiny and stretched out, pink from healing. “Then—”

“But they can’t tie it to that night. All the PCPD has is that you ducked out of sight around the time Moreno did. You and Elizabeth are married now which backs up the crap Nikolas spewed at the hospital party,” Sonny said. “The DA won’t touch this case. Not with Carly as the only witness that says you were injured during this time period. I told you — Capelli disrupted everything by going too hard at Elizabeth. They might have been able to drag an alibi out of her with a subpoena, but not anymore.”

It should relieve him that Elizabeth was out of danger from the PCPD — and it did.  He’d called Carly’s bluff, and she’d gone nuclear. She didn’t have anything left to hurt him with—

“Alexis said it would be a year or more,” Jason said slowly. “And there’s Sorel—”

“Sorel isn’t going to last.” Sonny sneered. “Tagliatti and Vega are already eying his territory, and he’s pissed them off one too many times. A few months, he’s out of it. And they don’t care if you get divorced—” He paused, then focused on Jason. “I didn’t say you had to file tomorrow, Jason. Only that it wasn’t going to take as long as we thought. That’s good news.”

Was it? A few days ago, Jason had almost been dragged into this plan by Elizabeth’s determination and his desire to stay in Port Charles with her. They’d only been married two days.

“You don’t have to do anything with that information,” Sonny continued. “And it is good that Elizabeth isn’t in danger. That’s the biggest reason we did this, remember? To keep her safe from Sorel and the cops. You’ve done that now.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s just—”

“I didn’t expect Carly to go this hard this fast, to be honest. Or that the PCPD would screw it all up, but maybe we should have. We’re not dealing with Einstein here. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. You still wanna wait at least six months, or, hey, leave the paperwork where it is until you guys break up. It’ll be easier that way, and Elizabeth will probably be glad we forced her into the prenup.” He got to his feet and went into the kitchen to make another cup of coffee, Jason staring after him with confusion and worry.

Kelly’s: Dining Room

The biggest change from being Jason Morgan’s secret mistress to his wife was that people bothered her less and left better tips, Elizabeth decided halfway through her shift as she counted the cash left from the breakfast rush. Warehouse workers who wanted to make good with the front office and others who didn’t want to piss her off, thinking she’d take it to Jason. She’d made twice as much as usual.

“People are really dumb,” she said, joining Tammy behind the counter. “Do they really think I’m gonna complain to Jason because they screwed me on my tip?”

“Hey, you might as well enjoy the fruits of their stupidity,” the blonde pointed out. She scooped grounds into the machine. “So, how long do I get to keep you?”

“Hmm?” Elizabeth frowned, pausing in her count. “I opened at five, so I’m here until one—”

“No, I mean, are you giving me your two weeks or—”

“I’m not quitting.” Elizabeth scowled. “This is my job, and I still have tuition. I’m on the installment plan for this semester—” Tammy peered at her curiously. “I’m not giving Jason my bills to pay. I can support myself—”

“I didn’t say—” Tammy paused. “Okay, let me rephrase this.” She folded her arms. “You’re a good waitress. Not the best, but solid and reliable.” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose, but it was a fair description. “But this isn’t where your heart is. You’re an artist. I’ve seen your work,” she added when Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “And between this job, your classes, and your personal life, you don’t get much time to paint.”

“That’s true,” Elizabeth acknowledged. “But—”

“You’re married to someone who can afford to help you out on this,” Tammy continued. “Now I didn’t say drop out of school. That’s insane. Get an education. I wish like hell I’d done better by myself in that area. But why waste your time here when you could be in your studio, painting until you drop and maybe getting some pieces together to sell? You could be making that your job, not this.”

She hadn’t thought about it that way. She worked full-time at the diner and had since she’d graduated high school. She liked the extra money and paying her own way, but she’d cut back painting to almost nothing. And classes had taken even that time—

Elizabeth bit her lip. “You make a good point,” she admitted. “I just—Jason just said I didn’t need to work, and I guess my brain sort of exploded.”

“He’s a nice guy, and probably meant well.” Tammy handed Elizabeth a carafe of coffee. “He wants to take care of you. That’s marriage. He supports your art, yeah?”

“Yeah, he does.” Even if he didn’t always understand it.

“Not everyone gets a chance to pursue their dream job, Elizabeth. Independence is important, and don’t lose that. But don’t let it cloud everything. Don’t be so stubborn. I’ll miss the hell out of you, but you should think about giving it a go.”

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

Mac stared at the remains of Elizabeth’s wedding dress, then focused on the photograph Alexis had supplied of the dress’s condition only twenty-four hours earlier.

Elizabeth and Jason stood at the altar of St. Timothy’s Church. It was a full-length pose, with Jason’s arm curled around his bride’s waist, and she had turned slightly into his arms, one hand on the lapel of his tuxedo.

And the knee-length tulle skirt was a perfect snow white, both straps intact.

“They make a nice couple,” Mac said blandly, hoping his expression didn’t demonstrate just how absolutely screwed Andy Capelli had left them. The dress had clearly been destroyed beyond what any judge would believe was reasonable. Some property damage could be expected in a property search, but not the level of destruction in this dress, the painting Alexis had laid next to it and other photos.

And Mac would never admit it to another soul, but there was something a little chilling in the bedroom photos — the double closet doors had been thrown open to reveal that it had only really been half full to begin with. A few items on one side that were masculine, including a tuxedo which had not tucked into its own garment bag, as well as two other suit jackets. The other side of the closet was fuller, with dresses and other clearly feminine materials.

Elizabeth’s side of the closet had been destroyed — only two dresses remained on hangers. The others were strewn across the floor in front of it, and the garment bag on the hook of the closet door ripped and nearly torn from the hanger that held it up.

Next to the closet was a dresser with only the top drawers turned out — lingerie, as Taggert had argued. Lacy fabrics, jewel-colored—Mac shoved the photograph away, slightly sickened.

Not a single masculine item had been searched.

“If you’re sitting there with that expression, imagine what a judge will think,” Alexis said, drawing Mac’s attention. “No. Better. Think about a jury. When we sue you for harassment, civil rights violation, witness intimidation—think about a woman in the jury listening to Capelli. Whether I get to direct or cross him, it won’t matter.”

No, it really wouldn’t. Alexis Davis was skilled enough to make Capelli look like scum even before the idiot opened his mouth. Mac took a deep breath. “I suspended him last night on Taggert’s statement alone. I told you—”

“It’s not enough. It will never be enough.” Alexis paused. “You’ve known women. How many would enjoy this done to their wedding dress less than twenty-four hours later after they’d worn it?”

Even if their marriage had ended badly — Mac could still see Felicia in her pink wedding gown, her vibrant smile—

“What do you want from me?”

“No one comes near either of my clients without talking to me first. For at least a year,” Alexis said flatly. “They shouldn’t be going near Jason without a lawyer anyway. He’s made that clear on more than one occasion, but no one listens.”

“That’s it? We stay away?” Mac frowned at her. “No questioning?”

“For now. Jason might change his mind, but Elizabeth just wants to forget it happened. Be grateful he walked away in one piece—”

“Assaulting a cop wouldn’t have gone down well—”

“And I’d insist on a jury trial,” Alexis said, her teeth bared. “Find me a man who wouldn’t have shoved a fist down Capelli’s throat.”

Since both Mac and Taggert had nearly taken swings of their own the night before, Mac wasn’t in a position to argue. Still, he wasn’t going to give in that easily. Not yet.

“I have to run this past the city attorney,” Mac said. “I’ll give you a call when I hear back.”

Quartermaine Mansion: Nursery

Carly curled up in the rocking chair, Michael tucked in her arms, his head nestled against her shoulder, listening to her read.

There were small pockets, moments in time, when everything else fell away and Carly let herself feel happy. When it was just her and her son, she was happy. She had food to eat, a roof over her head, and Michael had everything he could ever want. She’d lied, cheated, stolen, and committed all manners of crimes, legal or otherwise to get here.

But could she hold on to it? Would AJ believe this baby was hers? Maybe. Due dates were just guesses based on the last date of the period, and she could lie about that if it became necessary. Babies grew at different stages—it didn’t have to be like last time.

“Mama, keep reading,” Michael murmured, his words jumbled and slurred from his half-sleep state.

“Sorry, Mr. Man,” Carly said, kissing the top of his head.

She’d nearly gone to Kelly’s that morning, but had only looked in the window when she realized she didn’t even know what the point would be. What was left to say? What threats did Carly have left? She’d blown up the remnants of her last bridge with Jason by going after Elizabeth Webber—whatever chance she’d had at forgiveness for that night with Sonny— it was over after she’d sent the PCPD to the penthouse.

She knew the best thing to do would be to listen to AJ. To put Jason and everything else about him out of her head. She didn’t need him, and he didn’t love her. He couldn’t and treat her this way. If he’d loved her even a little, why hadn’t he tried harder to be with her this last year?

But letting it go, letting Jason get away with abandoning her, letting that little girl think she’d won—

That wasn’t in Carly’s DNA. She burned for revenge, needed to get even—

She just didn’t know how. Not yet. She’d have to stew on it for a little while and let them both think they’d gotten away. That she’d given up.

They’d never see her coming.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Elizabeth gave Francis a half-hearted wave as she opened the penthouse door, leaving the guard outside. She was getting used to having someone drive her around, but it was still a bit weird knowing he was standing outside all the time, only going home when she was sure to be home for the night.

But every time she felt a bit confined, she remembered that night in her studio, staring at the clock lodged under the table, ticking down to zero, the sweat sliding down her back, waiting for the explosion—

Had that only been six days ago? The Christmas party two weeks earlier? Her life looked so different now. How was that possible?

She heard the click of cue balls and found Jason standing by a pool table, which now sat between the stairs and the window. He had a long cue in his hands, staring at her. “Oh. The pool table got delivered. That was fast.”

“Yeah, a few hours this ago.” Jason set the cue back on the table. He shoved his hands in his pockets, but didn’t approach her. That was strange, she thought, but pushed it out of her head. “Were things okay at Kelly’s?”

“Oh, yeah.” She forced a smile, going to the closet to hang up her purse and jacket. “Tips were good today.” Better to be Jason Morgan’s wife than his girlfriend, she thought, but didn’t say anything. There was something weird in the air, just hanging there invisible, but she couldn’t really put her finger on it. “Carly showed up—”

“What did she say?” Jason demanded.

“Nothing.” Elizabeth shook her head. “I saw her in the courtyard. She came to the door, saw me, and left. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.”

Jason leaned back, sitting on the arm of the sofa. “She’s probably angry that nothing happened after she went to the PCPD.” He paused. “I have to go out later. I mean, to work. I don’t know what time I’ll be back.”

“Oh, okay.” Elizabeth folded her arms, feeling flustered. “Is, um, everything okay? I mean—” The last time he’d acted like this—the last time there had been this strange wall between them was the day he’d told her he was leaving.

Was it going back to work? Was he afraid she’d ask questions?

Elizabeth was determined not to let his odd mood discomfort her. “Um, did you get lunch or whatever—”

“I have to tell you something.”

Elizabeth blinked as Jason blurted out the words. He winced as if he hadn’t meant to say anything. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he assured her but she wasn’t convinced. “It’s just—Sonny and I were talking after you went to work this morning. About the PCPD.” He dragged a hand through his hair, looking away.

“Okay. Did Alexis hear something we should be worried about?”

“No. It’s good news,” Jason told her. “You’re basically off the hook. They can’t bring you in for questioning or anything else. Alexis filed a harassment complaint about Capelli, and Mac’s taking it seriously.”

“Okay,” she said, drawing out the word. That did sound like good news, but—

“And Sonny, um, pointed out—” Jason got to his feet, shoved his hands into his pockets. “He pointed out that’s why—” He exhaled slowly. “It’s why we got married,” he finished finally. “Because of what Carly knew.”

Elizabeth stared at him for a long moment. She knew that. Of course she knew that. “I know. We thought they might try use drug charges or something against me, but okay, yeah, I guess they can’t now. That’s—” She twisted the ring on her finger, feeling the metal slide across her skin. “Alexis said we’d need at least year—”

“Yeah, that was when we thought it would take longer for Carly to go to the cops.”

There was a crushing weight on her chest as she focused on him. “But I’m now off limits,” she said softly. “Because of the search warrant.” And that had nothing to do with her marriage. So they didn’t need to be married at all, did they?

In fact, they hadn’t needed a wedding at all. Forty-eight hours. Had their paperwork even been filed? Was it real? What was he asking? Did he want an annulment or a divorce? How did this work? Why was he telling her this?

“W-What does Sonny say?” Elizabeth asked, forcing the words out though her throat was tight. “What do we—”

“Uh, six months maybe, instead of a year,” Jason said. He cleared his throat. “He said we could just leave it alone, too, until we want to deal with it.”

“Until we want to deal with it?” Elizabeth echoed. She frowned. “I don’t—” Oh. Sonny thought they should just stay married until they broke up. Because if they got divorced now, it would be strange to continue dating. Or whatever they were doing. They hadn’t even sorted that out before the bomb in her studio and Carly’s threats.

Leave it alone. What a terrible way to phrase it. They could just drift along the way things were until Jason wanted to leave her. She didn’t even know how to wrap her mind around any of it. They’d had a deal, and she’d put it out her mind over the last few days. They were married, and she knew they’d be married at least a year. That had felt like a lifetime only days ago—an infinite amount of time to figure out what was going on between them.

They’d barely even kissed a week ago, and then they’d poured gasoline on everything by getting married.

Now Sonny had lit it on fire.

What did she even do with this information? Was she supposed to agree to it? To be married but not married with a some sort of expiration date somewhere down the line but not the same one they’d agreed to?

Jason opened his mouth, but the phone in his pocket rang. He tugged it out. “Morgan. Yeah? Okay. Yeah, I’m on my way.”

He was leaving? Now? After  dropping this on her? Why the hell had he even told her—

“I’m sorry,” he said, breaking into her thoughts with regret in his eyes. “Things are—I mean, it wasn’t supposed to happen until later. But it’s now—”

“It’s fine.” Elizabeth smiled at him. “Really. I’ll, um, see you when I see you, I guess.”

“Yeah. Don’t wait up,” he advised as he went to the closet and pulled on his jacket. “I don’t—”

“I know.”

Jason hesitated at the door, his hand wrapped around the knob, unsure. Then he left.

Elizabeth closed her eyes, took a deep breath. She waited until she knew the elevator was gone. Until Jason was probably out of the building, then opened the door again to Francis. “Hey. I wanted to go to my grandmother’s. To get a few more of my things.” She just wanted to get out of the penthouse, and she’d promised not to return to her studio until the security had been improved.

“Sure thing, Mrs. Morgan,” the guard said, straightening. “I’ll call down for the car.”

Mrs. Morgan. That wasn’t even her name yet. Not legally. And maybe it wouldn’t be. What was the point if it was going to be changed in six months? Maybe less. What if they broke up in two months?

Stop, she told herself. Just stop. It didn’t matter why Jason had decided to tell her what Sonny had said. She just had to decide what she wanted to do about it, and then move on. No use irritating herself with the little things.

If I could make it rain today
And wash away this sunny day
Down to the gutter, I would
Just to get a change of pace
Things are getting worse
But I feel a lot better
And that’s all that really matters to me
– Amy Hits the Atmosphere, Counting Crows

---

Wednesday, January 5, 2000

Quartermaine Mansion: Foyer

AJ heard the door from the second floor, and jogged down the stairs to see who would be coming by at this time of the night — Reginald had already opened it and admitted Taggert before AJ reached the landing.

“Is your wife here?” Taggert wanted to know. “I thought she might want to know how the search went.”

AJ lifted his brow, rested a hand on the raised post at the bottom of the railing.  He waited for Reginald to disappear before answering. “What search? Why would my wife be involved—”

“Don’t play stupid, Quartermaine.” Taggert folded his arms. “She left her name. Now either you don’t know she tried to have your brother investigated for murder, or—”

“Carly isn’t available,” AJ replied. “And I already heard from a contact with the department. No arrests were made—”

“That’s not what I asked.” Taggert stepped closer. “Do you want to know what happened during the search? Why there were no arrests?”

AJ hesitated. “I assume because you found nothing—”

“You know, maybe this will make you happy.” The detective folded his arms. “I don’t know why Carly decided to throw Jason under the bus tonight, but if she thought he’d ever forget it, she’s shit out of luck.”

“What happened?” What could be worse than siccing the cops on Jason at home—

“One of the cops got handsy with Elizabeth. Destroyed her wedding dress, tried to arrest her—you know, I don’t much like your brother, but he’s pretty protective of his new wife. Did you put Carly up to making that statement?”

“I don’t think it’s any of your business—”

“It is when your personal drama gets in the middle of my case. I should have known Carly was trying to get to some revenge, trying to poke at the newlyweds—” Taggert shook his head. “You tell her to keep away from me. And she might want to avoid Jason for a long time, because he’s pissed off. And he couldn’t punch a cop to make himself feel better.” He lifted his brows. “And you know, Jason can’t really hit Carly, either. He’s not that kind of guy. You? He finds out you put her up to it—”

“We’re done here,” AJ said flatly. “My wife reported a crime. It’s not our fault you messed it up—”

“Your wife reported a crime a month after it happened on the day her ex got married.”

“And you took her seriously,” AJ shot back. “Who looks worse?” He stalked to the front door, yanked it open. “Get out.”

“With pleasure.”

AJ slammed the door behind him, took a breath. There was a swift pang for what had happened to Elizabeth, but Taggert wasn’t wrong. If Elizabeth had been mistreated during a search that Carly had instigated—

He smirked and headed upstairs to share the news.

Vista Point

Jason wanted to get Elizabeth out of the penthouse while the place was cleaned up and the furniture replaced. Her face lit up when he suggested they take the bike out. It was the first time in days when he’d felt like himself, leaning into corners, the wind roaring past his ears, Elizabeth’s arms tightening when he took the turns just a little too fast.

He parked the bike at the observation deck parking lot, and Elizabeth stumbled off, pulling the helmet over her head. Her cheeks bright red, eyes sparkling, and hair tumbling around her face—

This was how he liked her best, smiling and laughing, even shivering a bit from the cold and the wind. Not silently crying or explaining with that air of somberness that she wasn’t scared of his life.

Unable to resist the temptation, Jason reached for her, sliding his fingers into the pockets of the leather jacket he’d given her for Christmas, then taking her mouth, swallowing that smile and laughter as if he could take it into himself, tasting the wind on her lips—they were chapped and cold but he didn’t care—

The helmet clattered to the ground, and Elizabeth’s hands were on his face, leaning into him, nearly crawling into his lap as he still sat on the bike.

She pulled back. “I like when you do that.”

“Do what?”

“Smile.” Her thumb brushed over his bottom lip, sweeping across it. “You don’t do it enough.” Elizabeth paused, her smile fading slightly. “But that’s good, you know. You don’t smile or laugh when you don’t feel like it. I always know it’s real.”

Not like the smiles she’d pasted on for months, he knew. The way they’d never reached her eyes and no one had noticed or cared. “You never have to pretend with me,” he reminded her. “And I’ll never lie to you.”

“I know.” She kissed him again, then rested her forehead against his. “I want to paint the wind again. It’ll be even better this time. You can help, you know.”

Jason squinted. “You’re not driving.”

“Oh, come on, you let me before.” Elizabeth pouted, planting her fists at her hips.

“Weak moment,” he argued. “You closed your eyes!”

“Because I knew you were right behind me—” Elizabeth wrapped her fingers around the edges of his jacket, her expression determined. “Please.”

Jason made a face, then sighed. “All right.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, but you have to promise to keep your eyes open,” he reminded her. He slid back on the seat, and Elizabeth beamed. She scooped the helmet off the ground, shoved it back on her head and climbed in front of him. He reminded her where the controls were, even though he knew he’d be steering the entire time. They wouldn’t be able to take the turns nearly as fast, but it was worth it to see her smile.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

“You got all the pictures you needed from the upstairs?” Sonny wanted to know as he stepped out of the way of one of the men carrying out the broken pieces of the coffee table. He grimaced at the insides of a sofa cushion on the floor. “Fucking animals.”

“Yes.” Alexis tucked the camera in her bag, then set the garment bag and destroyed painting on the desk. The garment bag had a torn zipper, and a long rip down the front. She removed the dress. “Do you see what I see?”

Sonny’s jaw clenched. “A foot print. Jason must have missed it, too. There’s no way Capelli gets out of that room alive otherwise.”

“He was in such a hurry to get to the dress that he destroyed the bag around it — then tore it off the hanger by grabbing the skirt—which ripped the strap—” She held that up, “as well as the dress itself. And then he tossed it on the floor and ground his foot into it. The painting he might be able to push off as an accident, but this? No.” She put it back into the remains of the bag. “I took pictures of how it was hanging in the closet. They have to take reasonable care. And none was taken.”

She touched a piece of the delicate tulle visible through the rip in the bag. “She tried on all four the dresses I picked out, you know. She was smiling, enjoying herself. She said it was almost like it was all real.” Alexis looked at Sonny. “Like she was really getting married and picking out her dress.”

“That was a good call, getting more than two,” Sonny said. He grimaced. “Can it be repaired?”

“The strap could be sewn, the skirt replaced. I could make some calls, but it would never be the same. And I doubt Elizabeth would be able to look at it the same way again. I’ll ask her. She might surprise me.”

“She usually does.” Sonny looked around the empty penthouse. “Furniture can’t be here until a bit later. But at least it’s cleaned out. Goddamn bastards. Coming after Jason, that’s one thing, but—”

“I’ll draft the papers for a lawsuit tonight. With the pictures, and these—” She gestured at the painting and dress. “Mac will be begging me to make this go away. Jason might have a reputation, but he’s got a clean record. And Elizabeth would be very sympathetic on the stand. This was a clear case of witness intimidation.”

Alexis picked up the garment bag again. “She put this on last — I think she saved it. I could see when she looked at them — this was the one she really wanted. But she wanted to try them all.” She paused. “And as soon as she did, she just lit up. And I thought, you know, maybe—maybe I’m doing a good thing. Maybe my ridiculous suggestion will turn out for the good.”

“This wasn’t your fault anymore than it was Elizabeth’s.”

“No, I know that. I just—she made a beautiful bride, Sonny. But she hasn’t been able to actually be one. Carly crashed her wedding, the PCPD destroyed her dress, and we had to force the prenup on her.”

“Jason will take care of her. You and me, we’re going to make sure the rest of it can’t hurt her again.”

Quartermaine Estate: AJ & Carly’s Room

AJ found his wife standing at the window. “The PCPD served a search warrant at the penthouse and the studio.”

Carly turned, her eyes narrowed. “And?”

“And nothing. No arrests.” He paused, considered telling Carly the full story of what had happened. But if Elizabeth really had been the target of the PCPD’s wrath, Jason would be furious. And if he wanted to confront Carly — maybe it would be more interesting for Carly to be blindsided.

Carly’s lips thinned. “I don’t understand—why didn’t they arrest him or take him in for questioning?”

“I see you’re disappointed because your little pet didn’t do what you were expecting.”

“Shut up—”

“Did you really think the PCPD would be able to do anything with your statement?” AJ leaned against the closed door, amused. “Your word with no evidence?”

“Jason would have a scar—”

“Sure. If they could get a physical examination,” AJ replied. “Sounds like they didn’t. Your word means nothing, Carly. Without evidence to back it up, no district attorney is going to put you on the stand as a credible witness.”

Carly fisted her hands at her side. “So what was this? A test?” she demanded. “Making me choose between my son and Michael?”

“No, this was me showing Jason one last time who you are.”

“And you’re married to me,” she spat. “What does that say about you?”

“You’re what I deserve,” he said simply. “I killed my brother and destroyed my family. Even if I never take another drink again, there’s no redemption for that, Carly.”

“I am nobody’s punishment! I deserve more than that!”

“No, you don’t.” AJ pushed away from the door and approached her, her eyes, damp and furious, focused on him. “Neither of us deserve more than we’ve got, Carlybabes, so maybe you suck it up. I married you, I gave you all the money you wanted, and we’ve got a beautiful son. I’ve got my job at ELQ. What do you really have to complain about? That you don’t have the man you really love?”

Carly hissed, then looked away. “You don’t love me, either.”

“No, I don’t.” He tipped his head. “So what’s it gonna be? Are you going to keep fighting this and planning your escape? Or are you ready to be realistic?”

She narrowed her eyes. “What does that mean?”

“I mean—” AJ tipped her chin up and nodded to the bed behind them. “New start, Carly. And last chance.”

She pursed her lips, glancing at the bed, her eyes calculating when she looked back at him. Then she pushed him hard so that he sprawled across the bed. She crawled across him and ripped his shirt open.

“Could be worse,” she said with a shrug. “You could be ugly.”

AJ smirked, hooked a hand around her neck and dragged her down to him for a kiss. And when in a few weeks she announced she was pregnant, he’d let her believed she’d beaten him.

It might even be fun.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Jason went in before Elizabeth, dropping his keys on the desk. He flicked on the light, then grimaced.

Elizabeth sighed — the bottom floor had been completely emptied — the sofa, armchair, coffee table — all that remained was the little metal shelf that was empty now. Jason’s small collection of travel books had been destroyed—save the one about Egypt that he kept upstairs.

She tossed her coat over the back of the chair. “Well, we were talking about getting new stuff anyway.”

Jason looked at her, then nodded. “Yeah. I’ll make some calls in the morning. Unless you want to pick—”

“Oh, I don’t care about any of that. I just need somewhere to sit.”

Jason nodded, then picked up her jacket — probably to put it away like he always did. But then he noticed the photographs poking out of the manila envelope. “Is this what Sonny brought over?”

“Oh. Yeah.” She slid them out. “Just a few he said the photographer developed — I’m glad they didn’t get to these. I mean—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I guess the PCPD has already been here, so maybe we don’t need them framed after all.”

Jason frowned, reached for one. He wasn’t that great with two-dimensional abstract images, but photographs were easier for his brain to process. This photo was just of Elizabeth and Alexis, just before the ceremony. The photographer had captured Alexis adjusting Elizabeth’s dress, fluffing out the skirt. Elizabeth was beaming, the flowers in her hand—her head tilted back, with her curls cascading over one shoulder.

“They—they came out nice,” he said, handing it back to her. “That’s a good one of you and Alexis.”

“Yeah.” Elizabeth’s smile was wistful. “She—she was kind of like a maid of honor, you know? Like Emily would have been. Or maybe if my mother—” she shook her head. “It’s stupid.” She started to put the photos back.

“No, it’s not. Which—we should put them up,” Jason said, and she frowned at him. He remembered what she’d said upstairs, the way she’d looked at the remains of her dress, and how she’d talked about it almost being real. She’d sounded sad. And he didn’t like that.

Maybe he hadn’t gone down on one knee like the movies Robin had liked to watch, and they hadn’t had a church full of family and friends—but they were married. Even if this ended in disaster, even if both of them married other people down the road — though the thought of it was irritating — she’d never get to have another first wedding day. The ceremony had been interrupted, her dress had been destroyed—

But they were married. It was real. And he didn’t like the way she kept stopping herself from enjoying when she clearly wanted to. And maybe she wanted to have a photo of her wedding day displayed where anyone could see it.

“Which one do you want?” he asked. He took the envelope from her and emptied it onto the desk. There were six photos. “Or do you want more than one? We can get frames tomorrow.”

“You don’t—we don’t have to—” Elizabeth’s cheeks were red. “Sonny just thought the PCPD—”

“Elizabeth.”  She stopped, looked at him. “You looked beautiful yesterday. I—I don’t know if I told you.” He should have, but — “When you got to the church,” he added. “I meant to, but everyone was there, and—” He cleared his throat, unsure why he was stumbling over his words or what he was even trying to do. “You always look beautiful, though. I just don’t say it—”

“You didn’t—” Elizabeth paused. “You didn’t have to. You looked at me.” Their eyes met, held, and he saw something different in her expression now. “Before. When I got there, you brought me the bouquet. And I felt beautiful. Even before you saw my dress.” She licked her lips, then drew the bottom one between her teeth. “I got so nervous when I was supposed to walk down the aisle, because the doors opened, and you were there, and you were looking at me. And I got so scared, because it was all so real. You looked so handsome—” She touched his chest, as if picturing the tuxedo he’d worn the day before. “And Father Coates was waiting, and it just overwhelmed me for a minute that it was really happening to me.” Elizabeth smiled at him again. “I didn’t know how I was supposed to move, but you came and it—it was all so nice.” Her lashes swept down as she looked down. “Until it wasn’t.”

Until Carly. He didn’t say her name, but it hung between them.

“I was nervous, too,” he told her, and her eyes flew back to his, startled. “I’ve never been married before. I was waiting for you, and I kept thinking you’d changed your mind.”

“I thought you would.” She let out a breath that almost sounded a laugh. “But you didn’t.”

“Neither did you.” Jason reached for her left hand, brushed his thumb across the ring he’d given her. “This is real. You should get to do all the things you want to do. Like choosing one of these for—” He glanced around. “The shelf over the fireplace. Or wherever else you want it.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth cleared her throat, looked back at the row of photographs. “Um, I like this one.” She showed him one where they were standing at before the altar, Father Coates behind. Jason had Elizabeth’s hands in his, and they were smiling at each other. During their vows, Jason realized. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah. I like that one, too.”

Elizabeth smiled again, and he smiled back, relieved that he’d found the right words to make her feel better. He put the photo back on the desk and took her hands in his, the way he had yesterday—and suddenly, he remembered what they’d been doing before the terrible scene with the PCPD—

They’d been standing in this spot—

Elizabeth’s cheeks flushed and she looked away — he wondered if she’d remembered as well. He nearly asked her, but stopped. It needed to be her making the first move, he thought. Even if he knew she was still a little shy and nervous. She needed to be in control.

So Jason kissed the inside of her palm instead, and just drew her closer so he could kiss her. She sighed and melted against him, her lips soft and sweet. He cupped her jaw, his thumb brushing her cheek. When he drew back, her eyes remained closed for another moment, her lashes a dark sweep against her pale skin. Then they fluttered, her eyes were a bit unfocused. “I like when you do that,” Elizabeth said, her hands fisted in his shirt.

“Yeah?” He kissed her again, lingering a little longer this time, then rested his forehead against hers—his own breath a little unsteady.

“We should get some sleep,” Elizabeth murmured. She drew back, almost reluctantly. “I have to go to work in the morning.”

“And—” Jason’s gaze swept over the empty penthouse. “I have to get some us somewhere to sit.”

She laughed, started for the stairs. “Don’t forget to get a pool table.” She turned on the bottom step. “You’ll have to teach me to play.”

He lifted a brow. “You don’t know how?”

“Nope. But I bet we could have fun.” And he blinked as her smile turned into a smirk. “I’ll see you upstairs.”

It’s just you and me
On my island of hope
A breath between us could be miles
Let me surround you
My sea to your shore
Let me be the calm you seek
Oh and every time I’m close to you
There’s too much I can’t say
And you just walk away
– I Love You, Sarah McLachlan

---

Wednesday, January 5, 2000

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Jason immediately reached for his pants, yanking them on as Elizabeth went straight for the phone. He heard her greet Alexis by name as the pounding on the door continued.  He just shook his head, tugging his shirt on. She kept surprising him with her instincts—he hadn’t even had to say anything about calling his lawyer.

“She’ll be right up,” Elizabeth told him, cradling the phone on her shoulder. Jason nodded, then flipped the lock and pulled the door open, forcing his face into a blank expression even though he wanted to growl at the detectives on his doorstep.

“Took you long enough,” Taggert sneered as he sauntered past Jason, slapping a piece of a paper against his chest. He held out a second piece to Elizabeth. “I brought a second copy for the wife,” he drawled, his tone setting Jason on edge. “I know how you want to make sure everything is legal.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes but accepted the warrant, scanning the opening lines. Her eyes widened slightly, but that was the only change in her expression. Jason dropped his gaze to the copy in his hands—

They were looking for evidence that Jason had been shot a month earlier—clothing with blood stains or bullet holes — he gritted his teeth. There was nothing to find of course. He’d never stepped foot in the penthouse until he’d nearly recovered, and there was nothing at the studio either. He’d made sure of that after Carly had made her threats—

But they knew he’d been shot which meant Carly had called their bluff.

“We’ll get started down here,” Taggert told the officers who came in after him. He nodded to Capelli. “You take a few uniforms upstairs.”

“I want to go,” Elizabeth said immediately. “I’m allowed,” she added when Capelli just glared at her. “I’m setting up my studio and there are chemicals, okay?”

“Fine,” Taggert retorted before Capelli could protest. Jason wasn’t wild about Elizabeth going upstairs alone to supervise. He had confidence in her, but Capelli was the wild card. New to the PCPD, he was hot-headed and wouldn’t have even the basic respect Taggert did for Elizabeth.

“I don’t know what the hell you did to convince her to do this,” Taggert told Jason, “but you should be god damned ashamed yourself. She’s a kid—”

Jason said nothing. He knew Elizabeth was only eighteen, but why didn’t anyone ever stop to remember that he had no memories older than four years? Why didn’t that count for anything?

“Where’s the warrant?” Alexis demanded, appearing in the doorway, her cheeks flushed. Sonny was just over her shoulder. “What the hell is the basis for this search?” Jason handed her the paperwork. “Where’s Elizabeth?”

“Supervising the search upstairs—” Jason turned when he heard something rip—then saw one of the officers slicing down the cushion of the sofa. “What the—”

“Hey!” Alexis strode forward only to be waylaid by Taggert. “They’re looking for clothing,” she spat. “How the hell—”

“We can do a reasonable—” Taggert began but then there was a cry from the upstairs.

“Stop! Don’t—” Then Elizabeth’s voice went quiet. Even before her voice had faded, Jason had lunged towards the stairs.

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

By the time Alexis reached the bedroom, she knew she was going to have to act quickly. Sonny had followed on Jason’s heels and had an arm out, blocking Jason from moving forward.

Capelli had Elizabeth shoved up against the wall—one hand on her head, the other holding her hands together behind her back. On the ground, between the closet and the bed was a pile of white fabric and nearby, a painting neatly wrapped in brown packaging — with a foot-shaped hole through the middle of it.

Taggert hauled Capelli away from Elizabeth who was crying, her cheeks flushed.

“What the hell is going on?” he demanded of the other cop.

“She interfered with my search,” Capelli snarled, “and was resisting arrest—”

“Interfered—” Elizabeth’s words were choppy as she forced herself to take a breath. Jason shoved off Sonny’s hand and went to her, framing her face with his hands. “I didn’t—I wasn’t—”

Alexis took another sweep of the room and her stomach pitched. They were searching for clothing, but the only clothing she could see was Elizabeth’s. The dresser drawers that had been dumped out onto the floor were hers, based on the feminine undergarments strewn across the carpet. Dresses and shirts and other pieces clothing had been ripped from hangers—

And the pile of white fabric, Alexis realized now, was Elizabeth’s wedding dress.

“I came in and he was throwing my clothes around,” Elizabeth tried to say. She cleared her throat, looked at Jason. “I tried to tell him where your things were because he was in the closet—and—”

“I can search everything in the damn room,” Capelli retorted, lifting his chin, but even Taggert was glaring at him. “What if he’d hidden evidence—”

“How did the dress get on the floor?” Taggert asked quietly. He went over to the garment bag that had, until the search, been neatly zipped and hanging outside the closet. The zipper was broken off as if it had been forcibly ripped open.

“He tore—” Elizabeth closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, it’s stupid. It’s just a dress. He’s right. He tore my dress, and I got upset. I grabbed his arm—”

Wordlessly, Sonny went to the dress and lifted it up by the bodice. One of the straps was ripped and there was a tear in the delicate bodice. He held it up by the one intact strap, then arched a brow at Capelli. “You think some bloodstained clothing was hiding inside the tulle?”

Capelli pressed his lips together. “I have every right—”

Taggert knelt down and turned over the painting. He looked at the foot-shaped hole, then at Capelli’s feet. “What happened to the painting?”

“It was on the floor—”

“When I grabbed his arm, he shoved me back,” Elizabeth interrupted. “And then he grabbed that—it was leaning against the wall—” she looked at Jason. “I brought it upstairs yesterday, remember? Before I—”

“I remember,” Jason said flatly. “It was leaning against the wall by the closet. And it was in one piece.”

“He did it on purpose—and then he shoved me against the wall—” Elizabeth closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. I should have just let him—”

“Don’t be sorry,” Jason cut in sharply, and she flinched. “You did nothing wrong.” He fisted his hands at his side. “Or do you want to arrest her for interfering?” he demanded of Taggert who slowly got to his feet.

“You could try it,” Alexis said with a dangerous smile. “But then I’ll explain that Capelli clearly targeted Elizabeth’s possessions in this rooms. Jason’s dresser—untouched. His clothing? Not on the floor. And you went for a wedding dress knowing she only got married yesterday—and this—” She took the painting from Taggert. “This tips it over into destruction.”

“I have every right—”

“Shut your goddamned mouth,” Taggert threw at Capelli who growled. “She’s right.”

“He married a witness—”

“And if you think that’s true,” Alexis said pleasantly, “what you’ve done today is nothing more than witness intimidation. You destroyed my client’s possessions and did irrefutable damage to her wedding dress and her painting — these are irreplaceable and I will be filing suit against the department.”

“Get downstairs.” Taggert grabbed Capelli and shoved him towards the door. “And get out of here. We’ll talk back at the station—”

“I can do whatever I want—”

“Like hell you can. Not on my cases.” Taggert swept his eyes over the room, over the other uniforms. “This search is over. We’re leaving.” When they hesitated, he narrowed his eyes. “Now.”

He turned back to Elizabeth who refused to look at him. Regret was etched into his expression, but Taggert said nothing, then left.

“I’ll make sure they all get out,” Sonny said, shoving his hands in his pockets and shaking his head. “And they call us the criminals.” He gently laid the damaged wedding dress on the bed. “I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”

“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth said again as she was left alone with Jason and Alexis. “I didn’t mean—”

“Actually,” Alexis said with a half smile. “You might have done us a favor. Capelli has just tainted this entire search. I can make a good case that he was engaging in witness intimidation—he was angry that you were supervising the search,” she added, “and that you’d removed yourself from being interrogated through marriage.” She looked around the room, then at the painting she held. “So he decided to punish you.”

“And that helps us?” Jason asked skeptically.

“They clearly got this warrant based on Carly’s statement,” Alexis said. “The only way to give her statement any corroboration was to find some evidence backing it up. They can’t search now, and I assume even if they searched the studio, there’d be nothing to find.” She shrugged. “They can’t question Elizabeth now because of the intimidation. I won’t let you answer questions under any circumstances,” she said. “No lawyer would. Their case is dead in the water.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth rubbed her arms restlessly. “I guess that’s good, then. I wasn’t—”

“Capelli did this to himself,” Alexis assured her. “No one is going to say you were wrong to react when he went after your personal possessions. There’s not a woman in the world who wouldn’t have been upset to have their wedding dress destroyed in front of them—”

She shrugged, and set the painting down. “You reacted naturally, Elizabeth. I’ll put in a call to Mac and put together paperwork. We won’t actually file, but it’ll be enough to hold it over his head.”

She left them alone then, and Jason didn’t know what to say. Carly had followed through with her threats, but Elizabeth had been the one hurt. The painting—

Elizabeth went over to it, tearing away the last of the brown packaging, sighing as she ran her hands over the familiar jumble of colors he remembered from a few weeks earlier. The canvas had been framed with a light wood and looked like it was ready to be hung—

Except for the Capelli-shaped foot in the middle of the ferris wheel.

“I thought it might be nice to hang it in here,” Elizabeth said, numbly, running her fingers over the rips in the canvas.

“Can it be fixed?” Jason asked, his chest squeezing. She’d painted the wind and then she’d made him see it. Because of him, it had been ruined—

“Probably not, but I’ll try, I guess.” Elizabeth set it back down and looked at him. “It’s okay. I’ll put everything back. You should go talk to Sonny and Alexis.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling uncomfortable. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

“I am.” She forced a smile and it made him feel worse. “I’ll be down in a little bit. We’ll get something to eat.”

“Okay.” He went to the door, looked over his shoulder, still unsure, but then left her to clean up the mess the PCPD had left behind.

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

Mac lunged to his feet as Taggert charged through the door with Capelli hot on his heels. “What’s going on?” the commissioner demanded.

“This asshole just screwed our entire search—” Capelli began, his face florid.

“You just bought this department a civil suit,” Taggert shot back. “You dumb son of a bitch—Mac, I won’t work with him. He needs to be off my case—”

“Why doesn’t someone just tell me what happened at the Towers?” Mac wanted to know, stepping between the two of them. “I take it we didn’t get anything from the search—”

“Dumbfuck over here called it off,” Capelli sneered. “And called back the guys from the studio—”

Mac frowned, looked back at Taggert. “Is that true?”

“He went upstairs to search the second floor,” Taggert said, tightly. “I stayed downstairs with the uniforms and wait for Alexis—she was on her way. Elizabeth went upstairs to supervise—”

“She interfered—I had every right to haul her into the station—”

“Interfered? You asshole—” Taggert grabbed Capelli’s shirt and shoved him against the wall. “You think I didn’t see what the hell you did in that room? How you treated her?”

“Taggert, Taggert—” Mac pushed himself in between them again. “What happened?”

“I knew Morgan was too damn smart to hide anything in his own dresser, so you’re damn right I searched that whore’s dresser first! And she tried to stop me, so I—”

“Ripped her wedding gown from the hanger, stomped on it, and put your foot through a painting—”

“Both of you shut up right now.” Mac raked a hand through his hair. “You searched Elizabeth’s possessions. That’s within the law—”

“Really? Really?” Taggert shook his head. “Not a damned chance. The dresser next to the door — that’s where you start. You don’t go across the room and start yanking out drawers — and you only dumped her lingerie drawers. Then you went to the closet — and you shoved everything on the floor—you tore the garment bag—”

“Is that true?” Mac demanded. “Did you deliberately go into that bedroom to destroy Elizabeth Webber’s possessions?”

“It’s Morgan now, don’t you forget that! She’s not some little sweetheart. She’s just a bitch whore spreading her legs for scumbags—”

This time it was Taggert who had stop Mac from choking Capelli as he stepped in front of the commissioner as he lunged towards the other detective — because insulting Elizabeth simply for dating Jason Morgan was an insult to Robin.

“If he’d unzipped that garment bag carefully, he wouldn’t have torn the fabric,” Taggert bit out. “He would have been able to see it was a pile of fucking tulle—” And there’d been something tragic about Elizabeth’s eyes when she’d described it. He’d thought it had been a ploy to avoid investigation—and maybe it was — but she’d cared about her dress, and it had been destroyed in front of her face.

“Could have been something—”

“Why didn’t you dump the rest of the drawers? Why you’d put your foot through a painting? That’s destruction—” Taggert stopped, shook his head. “Alexis Davis will be here in the morning with the lawsuit, you bet your goddamn ass. You want her to back down, you need to get him away from me.”

“You’re suspended,” Mac told Capelli. “Get out of my sight.”

“You’ll be hearing my union rep!”

“Looking forward to it.” Mac slammed the door, his scowl only deepening. “Tell me straight. How bad is it?”

“I tried my best to keep it under control, but Capelli picked the uniforms — and they trashed the place while I was upstairs.” Taggert exhaled slowly. “I know I get tunnel vision. I know that Morgan and Corinthos make me go crazy, but what happened tonight—” He shook his head. “It’s not right.”

“Capelli’s not the only one who’s going think it’s open season on Elizabeth because she married Jason—it’s not like Robin,” Mac said when Taggert began to protest. “Robin grew up around these guys. They knew her before she got involved with Jason. You’re the only cop who knows Elizabeth. They’re not going to care—”

“Well, it’s bullshit. And he torpedoed any chance I had of using Carly’s statement against Morgan. You keep him away from me, Mac, or next time I’ll knock his lights out.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Jason grimaced as he inspected the leather sofa, sliding his fingers down the split in the cushion, revealing the padding underneath. “Alexis took pictures of this, too?” he asked Sonny as his partner came back in, scowling at the broken items scattered around the downstairs. Jason didn’t have a lot of possessions, but what he had—

Glasses and mugs had been thrown around the kitchen, plates were shattered on the floor. The leather sofa hadn’t been the only furniture casualty—the coffee table had one its legs broken—the shelf of travel books had been scattered and some of the covers torn from being stepped on.

“Yeah, yeah. She took everything.” Sonny looked around. “I’m sorry about this, man—”

“I can buy a new sofa,” Jason muttered. And a table. Travel books. Plates and mugs. All of these things were replaceable.

“Not about any of this,” Sonny said, drawing Jason’s attention. “It sucks, but Alexis is right. This looks vindictive and destructive. If they’d left it at this downstairs—”

Most of the destruction had happened on their way out of the apartment—the officers forced to vacate before the search had finished. Capelli hadn’t been the only asshole on the force.

“But they didn’t,” Jason finished. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Listen, can you get some guys to clear this? I don’t want her to deal with—”

“Already on that. And they never got to the studio,” Sonny told Jason who exhaled in relief. “Taggert wanted to search both personally, but he called it off. It’s all tainted.” He glanced up to the second floor. “She okay?”

Jason opened his mouth because Elizabeth had said she was fine and she’d looked fine, but he wasn’t sure if that was true. She didn’t always say what she meant, and he knew she didn’t want to worry him. “I don’t know.”

“Yeah, the painting put it over the top,” Sonny muttered. “Could have fixed the dress maybe, but I know she takes her art seriously.” He rubbed his hands together. “I’ll go check on the clean up crew. We’ll get the furniture replaced—”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s fine. I just—” Jason started for the stairs. “I’ll get her out of here for a few hours or something.”

“Good, good. Let me make my calls and I’ll check in with Alexis. If we’re right—if this puts Carly’s story dead in the water—” Sonny nodded. “That would be good. Then we can just focus on getting rid of Sorel.”

He left, and Jason went upstairs, returning to the bedroom where he’d left Elizabeth earlier to deal with the dressers and closets that the PCPD had emptied.

“Hey.” Elizabeth dumped a pile of clothing in the laundry hamper next to the bathroom. “I’m almost done.” She made a face. “How does it look downstairs?”

“Not great,” Jason admitted. “They broke a lot of things and ripped the sofa.” He frowned when he saw the dress still laid out on the bed, the ripped strap and torn bodice evident—and now he saw the dark footprint across the skirt. “I didn’t—”

Her mouth pinched as she crossed to the bed, picking it up. “I think that’s what made me the most angry,” she murmured, sliding her fingers over the dirt and mud specks. Capelli had worn heavy boots and walked through the snow and dirt mixed out out front. “It wasn’t enough to tear it off the hanger—he threw it on the floor—” Elizabeth shook her head. “I’m sorry. I know I wasn’t supposed to do anything. I really just wanted to supervise, and it’s not like—I mean—” Her voice faltered and she sank onto the bed. “It’s not like it really matters,” she said softly.

Unsure, Jason sat down on the other side of the dress. “Why doesn’t it matter? It’s your dress—”

She bit her lip, her eyes trained on the white fabric “It’s my wedding dress,” she said, her voice barely audible. “Alexis brought me a few of them, and I got to pick it. Like I was really—like it was real.”

“It was—” Jason reached for her hand, laying it flat over the dress. He could feel the ring he’d placed on her finger only the day before cool against his skin. “It was real,” he finished. “Wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, but—” She met his eyes. “I mean, it’s not like we—” Elizabeth’s cheeks flushed.

“We got married,” Jason reminded her. He raised her hand, his fingers twisted her wedding ring. “This is real, Elizabeth.”

She managed a smile and reached for his other hand where she’d given him a ring, too. “I know. But it’s still just a dress at the end of the day, I guess. It’s not worth getting arrested over. Not really. But I just—I—” Her eyes met his again and her tongue darted out to lick the corner of her mouth. His body tightened. “It’s not just that I wore it in the church yesterday. It’s—I wore it last night.”

Last night. When she’d stood in front of the mirror and he’d stood behind her, unfastening each button—

“And Capelli was—he wasn’t just searching. Or being rough or rude.” Elizabeth released his hands and looked over at the painting, once again propped up against the wall. “Alexis was right, and I knew what he was doing. He dumped out my underwear drawer so I’d feel violated.”

Jason clenched his jaw. “I—”

“And when I tried to stop him from ruining the dress, he stomped on it, ground his foot in—I didn’t say that earlier,” Elizabeth admitted. “I was afraid if I did—”

Jason would have rearranged his face and been arrested. “I’m sorry—”

Elizabeth sighed, shaking her head. “You have nothing to apologize for.” She rose to her feet and went to pick up the painting, her fingers tracing the rip in the canvas. “Capelli was angry from the moment I was involved in the case. The first time he questioned me, he was the one asking the inappropriate questions. I don’t feel like it was personal, either,” she admitted. “It wasn’t that it was me. Not like Taggert. He’s disappointed in me, but Capelli—I’m just an obstacle.”

“Elizabeth—” Jason got to his feet.

“Capelli wanted me to feel like I’d done something wrong. Like I’d committed a crime—and I did, I know that, but—” Elizabeth sighed. “For all they talk about the violence you and Sonny are capable of—” she jerked a shoulder and turned away, setting the painting against the wall again.

Jason waited a moment. “I am violent,” he said in a low voice, unsure why he was saying it only that he needed her to hear it. To know it. “I’ve done worse things than what happened here today.”

Elizabeth faced him, her face unreadable. Then she tipped her head to the side. “To women like me?”

“What?”

“You’ve intentionally humiliated and violated a woman for not doing what you wanted? For not acting the way you expected?”

“No, of course not, but—” Jason stumbled to a stop, squinting. “But—”

“But you have a gun and you’ve used it,” she said plainly. “And you have hands. You’ve used those. There are people who aren’t breathing because you still are. You’re capable of violence, Jason. Did you think I didn’t know that?”

“No, but—”

“Your world is violent,” Elizabeth continued, and he just stared at her. “People like to act like there’s something unique about what you and Sonny do. If you were out of business tomorrow, would things really change? Would there be less violence in the world?”

He had no idea how to answer that. How to react. “Elizabeth—”

“Would I be safe in the park?”

“I—”

“This world isn’t safe for women, Jason. Look at what happened to me here today.” She held out her wrist and for the time he realized it was darkening into a bruise. “A cop did this to me in my own home because I didn’t want him to destroy my wedding dress out of spite and vindictiveness. Capelli will say it’s because I’m with you, and I deserve it because of who you are. But what happened today has nothing to do with any of that. It’s who he is. And it would have happened to any woman he didn’t respect.”

“I guess, but—”

“If you’re waiting for my face to change,” Elizabeth said, turning away and shoving another pile of clothes into the laundry basket. “You’re going to be disappointed. The night we met, you nearly tore the arm off the guy bothering me and never broke a sweat.”

He cleared his throat. “I don’t know what to say to any of that,” Jason finally admitted.

“The world you live in,” Elizabeth replied, meeting his eyes in the mirror over the dresser. “It does scare me. I know it’s dangerous. I know that the bullet you got in December wasn’t the first and probably won’t be the last. I don’t want to lose you that way, but I’m working on accepting it as a possibility.”

“And that’s okay with you?” Jason wanted to know. He stepped up behind her, his fingers lightly brushing her shoulder.

“I’m safe with you,” Elizabeth said softly. “And that’s all that matters to me.”

And in your eyes I see ribbons of color
I see us inside of each other
I feel my unconscious merge with yours
And I hear a voice say, “What’s his is hers”
I’m falling into you
This dream could come true
And it feels so good falling into you
– Falling Into You, Celine Dion

---

Wednesday, January 5

Morgan Penthouse: Kitchen

She hadn’t been able to sleep. Even after Jason had waited a few hours before coming up, Elizabeth had laid there, staring up the ceiling, feeling Jason next to her, and wanting to set herself on fire from humiliation. She wasn’t sure either of them had gotten any rest.

Elizabeth really only had two choices. She could continue to ignore it and hope he did, too. Or she could force herself to talk about it. To find out what he was actually thinking. She worried if she continued to ignore it, Jason might never make the first move again. But the thought of actually starting the conversation? Maybe she could just run away and join a convent—

“Now you’re being insane,” she muttered to herself. She drew in a deep breath and went into the kitchen, finding Jason by the counter, sipping coffee. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” he replied, but stayed where he was, his eyes on hers. “Did you, uh, sleep okay?”

“Not really,” Elizabeth admitted. She folded her arms, unsure what to do with them. “I, um, wanted to apologize, I guess.”

Jason set his coffee on the counter, his brows drawn together in confusion. “For what?”

Oh, was he really going make her say it? Because there was no end to this embarrassment. “Last night. Um, I know it’s not fair for me to…” She rubbed a finger against her bottom lip, then dropped it with mortification when she saw his eyes drop to her mouth. “It’s not fair for me to, like, lead you on like that. I’m sorry.”

“Lead me on,” Jason repeated. “When did you do that?”

Elizabeth squinted. Was he being deliberately obtuse or — “Last night,” she repeated. “I asked you to, um, help me with my dress—” And she knew her cheeks were flaming red. The heat was practically turning her insides into an inferno — which was what had happened last night only it hadn’t been embarrassment then. “And then I, um—”

She’d practically stripped for him, and even now she didn’t understand what had been going through her head. She’d been standing there, feeling his fingers trail down her back as he unfastened the buttons, and she’d been practically trembling by the time he was finished. Then she’d lost her damn mind.

“I remember.” His voice had changed, gone deeper, and the blue of his eyes were darker. Was that— “That’s not leading me on.”

“I—” Now she didn’t know where to go with any of this. “It wasn’t? But—”

Jason closed the distance between them, reaching for her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. “We’re going to take this as slow or as fast as you want,” he told her. “And last night, you stopped when you weren’t comfortable”

“Yeah, but—” Elizabeth searched his eyes. She’d been so sure — “You’re really not mad? It doesn’t bother you? Because I know you were, um—” Interested, but she didn’t say it.

“Did I want to go further?” he asked. “You know I did.” Jason brushed his knuckles down her cheek. “And yeah, I needed a minute after we stopped, but that still doesn’t mean I’m angry at you.”

Elizabeth exhaled slowly, the tension sliding out of her body like a receding wave. “I thought I might be able to—” She touched the fabric of his shirt where it had folded slightly over his chest. “I wasn’t thinking about anything but you until—” Until she’d felt her knees against the bed and knew what was next.

“Good.” He dipped his head and captured her mouth with his. She relaxed against him, sinking into the familiar taste of him mixed with coffee. She’d never liked the flavor until Jason had kissed her.  “You’re what matters,” he murmured against her lips, sliding his fingers through her hair. “There’s going to be stops and starts, but as long as you trust me, we’ll get there.”

“I do trust you.” Elizabeth sighed, then frowned as she touched his shirt again, then drew back realizing he wasn’t just wearing a t-shirt. It was a thin gray sweater, and he wore a pair of dark trousers — not jeans. Not his normal hanging around the house or work clothes. “Are you going somewhere?”

Jason grimaced, kissing her one more time before reaching for his coffee. “Yeah, Sonny set up a meeting with some people. We have to tell people about this.”

“This,” Elizabeth repeated, then it clicked. “Oh. That we got married.”

“Yeah. Part of the reason was your protection,” Jason reminded her. “Now we have to go negotiate it.” His eyes iced. “Even if Sorel wasn’t behind the bomb — which I don’t buy — someone put it in your studio. And that has to be handled.”

She shivered slightly, folding her arms again. With everything that had been going on with Carly and then getting married, she’d nearly forgotten how this had all started. The bomb on New Year’s felt like another lifetime ago. “Oh. I—Do I need to be there?”

“No,” Jason said firmly. “Sonny and I will go, tell them that you’re my wife, and that changes how they see you. It better,” he muttered as an afterthought and she flashed a hesitant smile. “And then we’ll get Sorel to pledge protection. It’s just—it’s nothing you have to worry about, I mean.” He paused. “We haven’t really talked about what I do.”

“We don’t have to,” Elizabeth said quickly, but he shook his head.

“We do. You live here,” Jason continued, “and you’ve already dealt with the police. You’re doing fine,” he added. “And you’ve got good instincts, so I’m not worried. But there’s still some things we need to talk about.”

“Okay. I mean, isn’t it basically a don’t ask, don’t tell sort of thing?” Elizabeth asked skeptically. “I don’t ask you anything, and you don’t tell me anything.”

“Well—” Jason frowned. “Yeah, I mean that’s how it’s supposed to be, but—” He looked away. “I don’t know how well that works. That’s how Sonny tries to handle things, and I tried to do with it with Robin.” And Carly, though he didn’t say her name. “But there are times when you need to know things to keep you safe. You need to know who people are.”

“Like this guy Sorel,” Elizabeth said. “I know about him—”

“But there’s others. You need to know who they are and what they look like,” Jason continued, “and what our relationship is to them so you know who to trust and who not to.”

“Okay,” she said slowly. “That sounds fine.”

“But yeah, most of the time, I can’t tell you anything. And it’s easier if you don’t ask,” he admitted. “Because then—”

“Then you don’t have to lie or refuse to tell me,” Elizabeth finished. “I get it, Jason. I do—”

He still didn’t look quite convinced, but before he could say anything else, there was a knock on the door. He grimaced. “That’s probably Sonny. Or Alexis. Anyone else has to be called up from the front desk by Wally.”

Elizabeth followed him out of the kitchen, her head still spinning a bit. She managed a smile at Sonny as he entered, carrying a manila folder. “Hey, Sonny.”

“Good morning. Jase? You about ready?”

“Yeah.” Jason went over to the closet to draw out a black suit jacket. “What’s that?” he asked Sonny, nodding at the envelope.

“Oh, the photographer developed some of the shots we took after the ceremony yesterday,” Sonny said. “I wanted to have a few in case we got, uh, visits from the PCPD over the next day or so.” He handed the folder to Elizabeth. “You might want to toss some up in a frame or something around the place.” He glanced around the mostly barren penthouse. “I thought you brought your things over from the studio.”

“Um, most of them. There are a few more things I need, but I didn’t really live there long.”

“We should probably get this place set up—” Sonny started.

“We’re handling it,” Jason said, shortly. Elizabeth blinked at the tone, and Sonny looked taken aback.

“I know, but—”

“Well, Jason only moved in here a few months ago,” Elizabeth interrupted, wanting to cut through the tension she didn’t understand, “and I’ve only been here a few days. If we change everything too fast, wouldn’t that look more fake?”

“Maybe.” Sonny frowned. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do,” he said to Jason. “But—”

“Jason doesn’t like clutter,” Elizabeth said, “and as long as I have somewhere to paint, I don’t need anything else. I know I can’t go back to the studio until it’s secure,” she told Jason, “so I hope it’s okay if I use one of the rooms upstairs.”

“Yeah, no problem. Let me know if you need anything to make it work.” He turned his attention to Sonny. “You want to get this over with?”

“Yeah, I know how much you like this stuff,” Sonny said dryly.

“I got shot at the last one,” Jason muttered, grabbing his leather jacket off the hook. He ignored Sonny’s flinch and crossed over to Elizabeth, kissing her one more time, then holding her against him. “When I get back,” he said, dropping his voice lower, “do you want go for a ride? The roads should be clear enough.”

“That sounds good.” Her cheeks still flaming because Sonny was right there, she kissed him again. “Um, good luck, I guess.”

Jason and Sonny were gone long enough for Elizabeth to brew herself a cup of tea and settle down in the living room to make a list of things she needed to make a guest room into a temporary studio. She hoped one of them didn’t have a carpet, but if they all did—she’d need a tarp—

Then the phone rang, jarring her.

“Yeah? Hello?” Elizabeth asked, bracing herself for another diatribe from Emily. She really hadn’t figured out how to say anything about the situation to her best friend, so —

“Hey, Mrs. Morgan—” It was Wally, down on the front desk.

Mrs. Morgan. Holy crap.

“Uh, your grandmother is here. Should I send her up?”

“Oh.” Elizabeth bit her lip, then rubbed her forehead. “Yeah, I guess so.” Audrey had barely just started to accept her relationship with Jason — how the hell was she going to react to a quick wedding? Which just reminded her that she still had to deal with the rest of Port Charles — when she went back to work in a few days, her section would be overflowing again with busybodies wondering why Jason Morgan’s wife was still waiting tables —

Elizabeth opened the door a few minutes later to her grandmother. “Uh, hey, Gram.”

“Hello.” Audrey’s face wasn’t giving Elizabeth much to go on, but she didn’t look angry. “How are you?”

“Uh, all right. Come on in.” Elizabeth closed the door after Audrey had passed her. “I guess you, um, heard.”

“I have.” Audrey set her purse on the desk, removed her coat and scarf, draping them over the purse. Then she reached for Elizabeth’s hand, tilting it back and forth. “It’s a lovely ring. Did Jason pick it out?”

“Yeah, he did. Gram—”

“When I was reconciling with your grandfather,” Audrey said, letting Elizabeth’s hand fall away, “there were some parts of our relationship that were a bit difficult.” She paused. “I had trouble trusting anyone after my marriage to Tom Baldwin ended.”

Elizabeth folded her arms. “Gram—”

“Considering the time period we were in,” Audrey continued, “and the fact that Steve and I had already been married once—we certainly weren’t strangers to one another. Still, it took me time to feel…” She hesitated, searching for the right word. “Safe, I suppose.”

Elizabeth’s throat tightened. “Was Gramps kind?”

“Steve was the best of men,” Audrey said softly. “And he never once made me feel like any of it was my fault. Until you, he was the only person I ever told.”

“I’m glad, Gram. Um—”

“When I heard from Lila yesterday,” Audrey continued, “I took a minute to hear the happiness in her voice. Lila adores her grandson, and she genuinely likes you. She wanted to welcome you to the family, and hoped I felt the same.” Audrey’s smile was a bit thin. “I don’t think it will surprise you that, at the time, I didn’t. She shamed me with her graciousness. It’s easy to forget that Jason Morgan isn’t just…well, he’s not just the man in the newspaper, is he?”

“He’s not, no.” Elizabeth paused. “I know you might not understand—”

“There are two kinds of safety, I suppose,” Audrey continued. “There’s the external safety. The world around you. And then there’s the way you feel inside.” She pressed a fist to her heart. “And I think I had forgotten that. Sometimes one of those feels more important than the other. Particularly when the world fails you. And the world has failed you, darling, repeatedly. With your parents, with that terrible night in the park, with the loss of Lucky—”

Elizabeth’s eyes burned. “You never have.”

“Of course I have, sweetheart.” Audrey hesitated. “Does Jason—is he kind?” she said finally.

“Yes. More than I ever thought anyone would be. I feel…not just safe,” Elizabeth continued, “but like there’s a future again. I didn’t think I would after Lucky died.”

“Of course I have my reservations by how fast this seems to be happening,” Audrey admitted and Elizabeth sighed, “but I’ve been known to be hasty in my own time, and impulsive,” she added. Elizabeth smiled. “I certainly don’t want to pretend that I was perfect.”

“But you…you’re okay with this,” Elizabeth said, almost questioningly. “Or at least, you’re not going to cut me out for getting married.”

“I would be denying myself a lot of joy if I did that, wouldn’t I?” Audrey said. “If it doesn’t work out—and it might not—I want you to always know you have a home with me.”

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “Are you here because you hope it doesn’t—”

“No, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. I just—even your grandfather and I divorced for a time,” Audrey reminded her. “Love doesn’t solve everything, and we often let our own pride get in the way. I just—you might not always have my understanding, but you will have my support.”

“That—” Elizabeth almost couldn’t speak. “That means so much to me, Gram. Thank you.”

“Well, I missed the wedding, but I certainly hope there were photos—”

“Oh—” Elizabeth wiped the tears from her cheek. “The photographer gave us a few. I think we’re getting more, but—” She reached the folder. “Sonny dropped them off this morning, and I almost forgot.” She opened the folder, surprised when she saw more than just the posed shots they’d taken after Carly had crashed the wedding. There was one of her standing alone at the end of the aisle, then another of Jason walking her down — and then one of them speaking their vows.

“Oh, how lovely—” Audrey beamed as Elizabeth handed them to her. “And you look wonderful. That’s such a beautiful dress—thank you. I hope to get a copy of some of these when you get the full package.” She paused on the posed portrait. “He really is a handsome young man. Your grandfather thought highly of Jason before the accident, and he hoped he would recover.” Audrey’s eyes sparkled now as she returned the folder. “You know, he once thought one of his granddaughters would end up with one of Alan’s boys, and I think he secretly hoped it would be Jason since he wanted to be a doctor.”

“Well, I guess Gramps got his wish a little bit,” Elizabeth managed, surprised. And then they both laughed.

No Name Restaurant: Private Dining Room

Jason didn’t think much of any of the men he and Sonny worked with, but Joseph Sorel might be one of the worst. Jason might have been willing to buy Sorel’s story that the phone call could have been something trying to create more trouble, but Sorel’s stupid, smug smile made it clear — at least to Jason — that Sorel had been the one to call Elizabet. To taunt her. To try and kill her.

“I’ve mostly controlled the internal problems in my organization,” Sorel said coolly as he leaned back in the chair. “Whoever went after Ms. Webber—” He paused. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Morgan,” he corrected with a smile that indicated it had been a deliberate slip. “Whoever went after the young woman—he took a shot and it didn’t work.”

“Well, as a sign of a good faith,” Sonny said, “I expect you’ll be making it clear that if anything happens to Jason’s wife, you’ll be the first person I blame. And Jason will have free reign to handle it as he likes.”

That put a hitch in Sorel’s step because it wasn’t the way things were done. “Without evidence?” he demanded. “Without proof—”

“Those are concepts for a court of law,” Sonny murmured. “If I wanted to live within that system, I wouldn’t be here.” He flicked his eyes to Sammy Tagliatti, seated next to Sorel. “What do you think, Tagliatti?”

“I think that’s a very fair deal,” the man said with a silky smile. “Clearly, the culprit came from your organization,” he said to Sorel. “That makes it your problem—”

Sorel clenched his jaw. “She wasn’t his wife when it happened—”

“Which is why you’re still breathing,” Daniel Vega proclaimed from the other side of the table. He gestured at Jason. “And why he hasn’t ripped your throat out at this meeting. Shameful, shameful, going after such a young woman just to keep her from cooperating with the police. After Jason eliminated Moreno for you, you try to take something from him?”

Sorel’s face was florid with fury. “That’s not what happened—”

“No, it’s not,” Jason said flatly, drawing their attention as he hadn’t spoken yet. “You and your boss ambushed me at a meeting that was negotiated in good faith to make a deal, and then you finished Moreno off and dumped him. You wanted me framed for the murder, and you tried to use Elizabeth to do it.”

Sorel met his eyes, pursed his lips. “That’s one way to write the story—”

“I’m in agreement,” Daniel said. “Anything happens to the young Mrs. Morgan, you’ll have my support to handle it however you like,” he told Sonny. “I don’t believe in collateral damage and using women and children. Extra bodies just draws the authorities to us. That’s how they got in trouble in Manhattan and Philly,” he continued. “We don’t give them an inch to come after us here.”

“Tagliatti?” Sonny said.

“Agreed. Sorel will be held responsible if a single hair on the woman’s head is touched. I’ll help dismantle his operation.” Tagliatti smirked. “And enjoy taking pieces of it.”

Accepting that as a price, Sonny nodded, then focused on Sorel. “Any questions?”

“No,” Sorel said tightly. “As I said, I had nothing to do with the bomb. And I’ll make it clear that she’s off limits.”

“Good.” Sonny got to his feet. “I’m glad we understand each other. Elizabeth Morgan is under the protection of the entire syndicate. Harm her and we’ll destroy you.”

Quartermaine Mansion: Master Bedroom

Carly’s voice was filtering out from the bathroom as AJ went into their bedroom that afternoon. He’d slept in another room the night before, still seething over Carly’s humiliation. Everyone knew his wife preferred Jason to him, and AJ put up with it to keep his family together. To give Michael both his parents. For all her faults, Carly was a decent mother and AJ didn’t want to lose his son, even to partial custody.

He was ready to make another attempt at convincing Carly to give their marriage a chance. So he went towards the bathroom and gently pushed on the slightly ajar door to hear whoever she was talking to better.

“I can’t tell you anymore than that,” Carly said, her teeth clenched. “Can’t you work with what I’ve told you? He was shot at the same time that Moreno guy went missing! No, you can’t have my name you little cretin, just do your damn job—” She slammed the phone down and whirled around, stopping dead when she saw AJ leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed. “When did you get here?”

“So my little brother got shot at the same time Anthony Moreno went missing?” AJ repeated. “Interesting. How did you find out?”

Carly glared at him, her lips pressed together. AJ shook his head. “You’re not going to be able to keep this to yourself, Caroline. How did you know Jason was shot?”

“Jason got pissed at me for some reason,” Carly bit out, “and I couldn’t get a hold of him. Not because I was sleeping with him, so don’t get any ideas—”

“That’s not answering my question—”

“I followed that little twit,” Carly retorted. “She was ducking out of work, claiming to be sick. I followed her back to her studio and confronted them both. Everyone thinks they were sleeping together, but she was taking care of him. He got shot.”

“And you kept the secret because it suited you.” AJ straightened. “Now, because you were wrong about his relationship with Elizabeth Webber—”

“I wasn’t wrong!”

“Obviously you were since they got married yesterday,” AJ said coolly. “Now that Jason has married someone else, you decided to pay him back.”

“Why do you care?” Carly said sullenly. “I would think you’d want me to hurt him—”

AJ wasn’t that wild about Jason these days — not after months of being lied to and then having to go to court when Jason sued for visitation. But at the end of the day, Jason had loved Michael and been a decent father. He’d walked away from the visitation, and to the best of AJ’s knowledge, walked away from Carly. Still —

“You’re trying to have it both ways,” AJ said. “You’re doing an anonymous tip, Carly. If you’re ready to make Jason pay and put him in the past, go to the PCPD and make a statement. Go on the record.”

She clenched her jaw. “But—”

“But what?” AJ asked pleasantly. “It doesn’t suit you? You don’t want to burn all the bridges with my brother?”

“You’re deliberately twisting all my words—” Carly exhaled slowly. “Fine. Okay. Will you stop accusing me of sleeping with Jason every other minute if I go to the PCPD?”

“Yes. You go on the record turning my brother in, and I’ll believe it’s done between the two of you.”

General Hospital: Waiting Area

Elizabeth could feel the weight of the stares from nurses, doctors, patients—practically everyone she passed as she walked towards Gail Baldwin’s office, but she ignored them.

It wasn’t like the way everyone had looked at her after the Christmas party when they’d been snickering and waiting for Jason to get tired of her. Now, they were twisted and turned around — Jason had married her instead of breaking it off. No doubt they were probably going to be counting down the months and waiting for a baby.

Unless the immaculate conception took place, they’d be in for a rude awakening.

She arrived at Gail’s office and waited to be let in by the receptionist, her pulse fluttering. She’d called Gail after Jason had left this morning, mostly on a whim, never expecting her grandmother’s best friend to move around her morning and agree to see her immediately.  Elizabeth thought she’d have more time to put together her thoughts, but now —

“Hello, darling.” Gail smiled, then kissed her cheek. “I had breakfast with your grandmother, so I know congratulations are in order.”

Elizabeth bit her lip. “Do you mean that?”

“Of course.” Gail squeezed her hands. “Two years ago, you were wondering if you’d ever be able to get this point, and now look at you.”

“That’s why I’m here. Um—” Elizabeth set down her jacket. “The thing is — I mean, Jason and I are married, but we haven’t—and we weren’t—” She closed her eyes. “I know what the rumors were saying, and I know the new ones think I’m pregnant. But I’m not. Jason and I got married, but we haven’t—we haven’t had sex.”

“All right.” Gail gestured for her take a seat. “Let’s talk about it, then.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Still irritated after the meeting with the leaders of the syndicate, Jason was disappointed to learn Elizabeth had left not long after he had. Had she mentioned going out? He didn’t remember, but it wasn’t his business. She could do whatever she wanted as long as she took Francis, and she had.

But he’d been looking forward to coming home and then taking her out on a ride. Getting away from all of this. They hadn’t been able to do that since before New Year’s, and he was starting chafe at all of this. He hated going to those meetings, hated being in this penthouse day after day.

He just wanted to feel the wind rushing past him, the roar of the engine in his ears—

The door opened behind him and Elizabeth came in, her cheeks flushed from the cold. She smiled at him. “Hey. I was hoping I’d get back before you. When did you get here?”

His mood instantly improved, Jason shrugged. “Just now. I didn’t know you were going anywhere.” He winced. “Not that you have to report to me—”

“No, but I’m sure knowing my schedule, especially right now, is useful. And it’s not like you want to call Francis,” Elizabeth said. She cleared her throat. “I didn’t know I’d be going anywhere, honestly. I called Gail Baldwin to make an appointment later in the week, and she had a cancellation this morning, so I went to the hospital.”

“Gail?” Jason echoed. “She’s a therapist, isn’t she? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. It’s fine. It’s just—well—” Elizabeth exhaled in a rush of air. “I know we talked about it this morning, and I know you’re okay with it taking as long as it takes, but I still wanted to get…I don’t know. Some perspective.”

Jason drew his brows together, unsure. “Perspective?”

“Yeah.” She stripped off her coat and tossed it over the desk. “You know, like I trust you. Obviously—” Her cheeks flushed, and he knew she was remembering the night before. Standing in front of the mirror.

“At the same time, I guess I just need to understand what exactly I’m afraid of. Because if I can figure that out, we can—or I can—I don’t know, it made sense when Gail and I were talking.” She wrapped one arm around her waist, then used her other hand to bite her thumbnail. “I also don’t know how much you want to talk about any of this—”

“I want to talk about anything you want to,” Jason told her. He took off his jacket because it didn’t look like they were going to the cliffs anytime soon. He grabbed her jacket and then hung them both in the closet, wanting something to do with his hands. “You can tell me anything.”

“You say that, but I’m not sure if you—” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “Part of working through this means acknowledging what happened to me. In more detail than I think I was ready for when I was in therapy two years ago. And maybe it’s not you. Maybe it’s me. I’m afraid to say these things to you. I don’t—” Her voice thickened and she looked away.

Jason approached her, reaching for her hand, sliding his own fingers over the ragged thumbnail she’d bitten nearly to the quick. “You’re afraid that if you talk about what happened to you, it’ll change the way I feel about you,” he realized. She bit her lip, looked away. “That I won’t want to touch you. Or that I’ll be afraid to.”

“I don’t know. Yes. Okay, that’s—I mean, God, Jason, how am I supposed to tell you that the thing that scares me the most if that it’ll feel the same way? Like I’m being ripped apart, and that all I’ll feel is pain, and I’ll never—” She broke off in a rush, her eyes wide. “Oh, God.”

“You tell me like that,” he said roughly, forcing the words. “You just say it. Because you don’t have to live with it by yourself.” And how the hell did he actually handle that? The power and the responsibility of knowing that if he screwed this up — if he took one wrong step — he could bring it back to her — put her in that moment — “I’m scared, too,” he admitted in a low voice.

“You are?” Elizabeth asked. She wiped at her eyes, using her other thumb to dash away the tears. “I don’t want that—it shouldn’t be like this—”

“No, maybe not, but it is. And I care about you. I want this to be good for you. I want to make you feel—” Jason didn’t even know how to put it into words. “I don’t want you be scared of me. Ever.”

“I’m not. I’m really not.” Her voice caught on a sob as she said the words. “I’m not. But I’m afraid I will be, and I think it’ll just kill me.” She placed a hand on his chest as she said it and he drew her closer, clasping her hand in his.

“You need to know that there’s nothing you can say to me that’s going to make me stop wanting you,” Jason pledged and she met his eyes. “What you’ve been through—what you still go through every day—you never have to be scared you’ll say something that will change how much I want to be with you. It’s separate for me, okay? I don’t know how else to explain it. It doesn’t change how I see you. I won’t let it.”

She rested her forehead against his chest, and they stood there for a long moment, their breathing the only sound in the room.

“G-Gail said that it’s normal for me to feel this way. That this coming up now makes sense. This is the closest I’ve been to a sexual relationship since the attack.” Elizabeth stepped back, but he kept her hand in his. “And that even if we—if I can do this—it doesn’t mean it won’t come back at times. Part of me just—God, wants it to be over with. To just get through it and—” She sighed. “But that’s not fair to you. To tell you just to do it while I grit my teeth—”

“I wouldn’t—”

“I know—” She managed a weak smile. Then stepped back more, using both hands to wipe the tears from her cheeks now. “And she told me that. She said there’s no one way to get past this. That I can just do what we’ve been doing. Going as far as I feel comfortable with, but what if that takes months?”

“What if it does?” Jason asked, frowning. “You think I’ll change my mind in six weeks?”

“N-No, but I don’t want it to be like that. I’m tired of waiting to get my life back. I’m tired of feeling like what happened to me two years ago—something that took ten minutes—that’s all it was, you know? I was sitting on a bench, minding my own business, trying to think of how I’d get myself out of that stupid lie I’d told—and then I was on the ground, fighting and choking on my own screams—” She pressed her hands to her eyes. “I couldn’t make it stop. I couldn’t make him stop. And then it was over, and he was gone. Ten minutes of my life. It doesn’t get to ruin the rest of it.”

He felt helpless to help her sort through this. He’d done what he could — he’d reassured her, he thought he’d said all the right things, but at the end of the day — he couldn’t get inside her head and change anything. So Jason stood there, remaining silent, waiting.

“It doesn’t get to define who I am,” Elizabeth said, sounding stronger now. “I am not the girl who got raped, and I don’t want to be her forever. I can’t be the girl crawling out of the snow forever.”

“You’re not—”

“I’m more than that. I don’t know who I am all the way yet, but I think—” Elizabeth paused. “I need to be in control. I think that’s what this is. I was okay last night because I—I think I was in control. And then I wasn’t.”

Jason tilted his head to the side, trying to parse it out, then understanding. “Because you made the first move. And then I started to steer you towards the bed. I didn’t see it as taking control, but—”

“I know you didn’t,” she said quickly. “And I wasn’t scared. I just—I couldn’t go any further. But I wasn’t nervous or scared.”

“Okay.” He could live with that. “You need to be in control. That’s not a problem.”

Elizabeth blinked at him, a bit surprised. “It’s not?”

“No. Why would it be? If this is what you need, then that’s good enough for me.” And if at the end of the day if letting Elizabeth be in complete control meant he’d get to put his hands on her, then it was a win win situation. “We both get what we want, don’t we?”

“Um, yeah. I guess.” She chewed her lip. “I don’t actually know what I’m doing though—”

Jason arched his brow. “You knew what you were doing last night,” he reminded her, his voice low again. Her cheeks flushed, but her eyes were sparkling now, her breathing just a bit quicker. “You took what you wanted. What do you want now?”

“Um—” Elizabeth drew her bottom lip between her teeth. “Really? I can say whatever I want?”

“Whatever you want.”

She cleared her throat. “So if I tell you to take off your shirt, you’ll just—you’ll just do it?”

As an answer, Jason reached for the hem of his sweater and drew it over his head, tossing it behind him. Her eyes were as wide as saucers now and her tongue darted out to lick her lips.

“And you’d—if—I mean, if I asked you to take everything else off—” Her cheeks were flaming now, her voice a bit less sure. “You’d do that, too? You’d stand here in front of me naked?”

“If that’s what you want me to do.” He put his fingers at the buckle of the pants, undid his belt. “Is that what you want?”

“Um. Yes. That’s—” Her voice nearly squeaked as Jason stripped off the belt, tossed it with the shirt, then unzipped his pants. He paused when he was just in his briefs because he wanted her to be sure. Her breathing was even quicker now—

And then there was a knock at the door. Not just a knock, but an aggressive pounding. “Open up! It’s the PCPD! And we have a warrant!”

I don’t wanna be so shy, oh, oh
Every time that I’m alone I wonder why
Hope that you will wait for me
You’ll see that you’re the only one for me
I wanna believe in everything that you say
‘Cause it sounds so good
But if you really want me move slow
There’s things about me you just have to know
– Sometimes, Britney Spears

---

Tuesday, January 4, 2000

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

“I think we should be discussing damage control,” Alexis declared, accepting the glass of wine Sonny handed her. “Carly might already be at the PCPD—”

“She’s impulsive and stupid, but I don’t think she’s going to the police tonight.” Sonny sipped his bourbon, then wandered over to look over the skyline of Port Charles as the sun dipped behind the buildings, plunging the downtown into night. “Tomorrow. Tonight, she’ll be cursing Jason’s name. We have time.”

“Sonny—”

“And we’ve done the damage control,” Sonny reminded her. “Jason and Elizabeth got married in a church with a priest. We’ll have wedding photos of them, there’s rings. They’re living together, and half the town already suspected they were dating before this. Carly crashing the wedding did us a favor.”

Alexis grimaced. “Maybe—”

“Because now when she tries to turn on Jason with no corroborating evidence but her word, the PCPD might go after us, but it won’t get to court. You said that, remember? She’s got nothing but her own testimony. Bobbie will lawyer up just like we will. She played the role of scorned woman almost too well today.”

“I suppose you’re right. All we have to do is tell the PCPD Carly vowed revenge on Jason and was cruel to Elizabeth about the rape.”

Sonny’s scowl only deepened at the reminder. “She barely had credibility before this, and now—it’s gone. She’s destroyed it.”

“Fair enough. I just—I put this idea into Jason’s head, and Elizabeth seized on it to keep Jason in town. I feel responsible. I don’t want either of them hurt.”

“Neither do I,” Sonny said. “I’ve already done enough.”

Quartermaine Mansion: AJ & Carly’s Bedroom

Carly paced the length of the room, an ice pack against her cheek, and quietly seethed at the events of the day. First that freak show of a wedding and then that humiliating scene with AJ —

She’d been so sure—so certain—that Jason would leap at the chance to protect his precious damsel in distress that he’d agree to leave town with her and Michael. Once they were gone, Carly knew she could change Jason’s mind. If they could just get a few minutes alone in a room, Carly was convinced she could have swayed him.

But instead Jason had done something wholly unpredictable. Something absolutely beyond the pale.

He’d married that little bitch. And why? Why? Why had he done such a drastic thing? What could it—

Carly stopped, meeting her own shocked eyes in the mirror. Because wives couldn’t testify against their husbands. Elizabeth could never be asked any questions about the studio or what happened there. Even if she was dragged into the police station, Alexis Davis would have her out by supper.

“That son of a bitch,” Carly muttered. He’d stood by while that damned bitch had punched her, and he’d abandoned Carly when she needed him the most. Why did he refuse to see how things could be? How they should be?

This couldn’t be allowed. It couldn’t stand.

She’d let him think he’d won tonight, but tomorrow — tomorrow she’d make Jason regret he’d ever walked into that damned church.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Jason put the lasagna in the microwave to defrost, then went back to the living room to wait for Elizabeth to return. He picked up his suit jacket where it had dropped to the ground earlier—

None of this was turning out the way he thought it would, but wasn’t that the story of every day since he’d met Elizabeth? Since he’d really and truly met her that night at Jake’s? Wasn’t that part of the reason he’d been drawn to her? Her smiles, her laughter, the twists and turns of conversations—

He hadn’t meant to tell her all of that tonight, hadn’t even known it was inside of him, but he’d desperately needed to explain how he could have done something as stupid as tell Carly he loved her only a few weeks ago without making what he felt for Elizabeth seem wrong or too fast. Or worse, a lie.

He’d believed what he had said to Carly in the moment, but it had already been fading and shifting and turning into something else. Not even hatred, but apathy. The only good Carly had ever brought to his life was Michael, and he couldn’t even think of the little boy without the pain that followed.

Jason just wanted to be done with Carly forever, and he wanted Elizabeth to understand that she was the key to that—to his realization that he’d been punishing himself by letting Carly stay in his life, clinging to a hope he could have Michael back.

Michael—and Carly—were in his past. Robin was in the past. And for the first time in a long time, Jason wanted to look to the future.

When the microwave timer went off and Elizabeth still hadn’t come downstairs, Jason started to worry. Was she upset? Had he pushed her too hard? Was she still thinking about Carly—

The door to his—their—room was partially ajar, but he still knocked. “Elizabeth? Are you okay?”

“Um, yeah. I forgot—you can come in,” she said. Jason pushed open the door, surprised to find her still in the wedding dress. She was standing in front of the full-length mirror, twisting and trying to reach—

“I can’t get it off,” Elizabeth said miserably, turning to face him. “It’s got all these little tiny buttons, and I can’t—” Her face flushed and she bit her lip. “Can you help?”

“Uh—” Jason nodded, his throat tight. He crossed the room and Elizabeth faced the mirror again, her back to him. The dress began halfway down her back, and his fingers fumbled as he reached for the first small, pearl button. There were at least a dozen, maybe more.

Slowly and carefully, he slid each button individually from the loop, painstaking avoiding the bits of lace and fabric around each. She looked so beautiful, and he didn’t want to make a single rip or tear in the dress.

As each button came undone, the bodice of the dress loosened, the two pieces in back gaped, revealing the soft, pale skin of her upper back. The bare skin without a single piece of clothing beneath it. He focused on the dress, ignoring the way her skin felt as his knuckles brushed it, or the way her breathing had changed.

The final button was at the base of her back, and reluctantly, Jason slid the last one out of its loop. He probably could have stopped halfway down—the dress would have been loose enough for her to shimmy out of it, but he hadn’t wanted to stop touching her—and she hadn’t asked him to.

He remained behind her, raising his head until he met her eyes in the mirror. She had hands pressed to the front of the dress, holding the bodice in place so that it hadn’t slid down while he’d been unbuttoning the dress.

Then Elizabeth moved her hands, letting them fall to her side. The bodice had been sitting higher on her chest as she held it against herself, but when she let go, the straps on her shoulder loosened first, sliding down her shoulders.

As if in a trance, Jason raised his hands to her shoulders, sliding his fingers beneath the straps. Maybe he meant to pull them back up, to put the dress back into place so that he could leave and give her a chance to change in private—

But Elizabeth raised her hands, sliding a thumb beneath each strap, their fingers brushing. And she gently pulled. Her dress fell from her shoulders, to the ground in a soft rustle, leaving her in nothing but a pair of white panties.

His chest felt eight sizes too big as their eyes remained locked together in the mirror. Elizabeth kept one of his hands in her own, raising it until it cupped one of her breasts. She was biting her lip, and Jason could feel her entire body had tightened, tense from something. Was it desire? Fear?

He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he did anything that frightened her, that brought back those memories, so even though it took everything inside of him, Jason didn’t move his hand, just stood there, feeling the weight of her in his palm. Then he dropped his head down to brush his lips against the curve of her neck. Her body loosened and she sighed, slumping back against him.

Jason carefully lifted her from the folds of the wedding dress, aware that she’d been grabbed and lifted during her attack, and scared beyond words that he’d trigger something. But if he had, Elizabeth never let on, turning to him and wrapping her arms around his neck, then kissing him.

Jason pulled her against him, his fingers sliding across her soft, silky skin. His shirt fell off his shoulders, their skin bare against one another now. He started to gently steer her towards the bed, but when her legs brushed the comforter, Elizabeth was startled, jerking away, her body tensing all over again. Her breathing was choppy, her eyes squeezed shut. “I’m sorry. I—”

“It’s okay,” Jason said immediately. He kissed her one last time, soft and lingering to reassure her. He retrieved his shirt from the floor,  drawing it over her shoulders even as she started to use her hands to cover herself. “It’s okay,” he repeated. She met his eyes, still biting her lip. “I’ll go put the lasagna in the oven, okay? I’ll see you downstairs.”

She nodded, the motion little more than a jerk up and down. Jason closed the bedroom door behind him, but instead of going downstairs, he went into one of the guest bathrooms and splashed some cold water on his face.

It was going to be a long night.

PCPD: Lobby

Taggert tossed a report into the bin for Mac to read in the morning, and paused at the front desk to look through messages that hadn’t been passed to his desk.

A pair of uniforms passed by, and Taggert nearly ignored them entirely but he heard a stray pair of words that had no business being anywhere near each other.

Morgan…wedding…

“Hey. Hey, wait up!” He jogged after them, waiting as they turned. “Rodriguez, right?”

“Yeah, what’s up, Taggert?” The younger man frowned. “Did you need something?”

“Were you just talking about Jason Morgan?”

“Oh.” The other uniform, one that Taggert didn’t recognize, frowned. “Yeah, Cruz was just saying he hadn’t pictured the guy as the marrying type.”

His gut clenched. “Why? Why does that matter?”

“Figured you’d have heard by now,” Rodriguez said. “You’re usually more dialed in on this guy—”

“Heard what?” Taggert bit out.

“Jason Morgan got married this morning. That girl from the fire last year.” The second uniform elbowed Rodriguez. “Guess he likes ’em young.”

“Jason Morgan married Elizabeth Webber,” Taggert said. “Are you shitting me?”

“Nope. You’ll never see me getting so crazy over a broad—”

Taggert left them both and stalked back into the squad room. He snatched up phone and dialed the county clerk’s office. “Yeah, it’s Detective Marcus Taggert. I need to know if a marriage license was issued for Jason Morgan in the last few days.” He waited, then grimaced. Jason Morgan and Elizabeth Webber had filed for a license the day before, dutifully witnessed by Sonny Corinthos and Alexis Davis.

He slammed down the receiver.

Fuck.

Morgan Penthouse: Kitchen

Elizabeth wasn’t entirely sure how she managed it, but she had tossed on clothes and gone back downstairs where Jason had heated up food for dinner.

And, mercifully, Jason didn’t ask any questions or even refer to the…incident in the bedroom. Which seemed like the safest way to think about it. Elizabeth had lost her damn mind, and she’d thought for half a second that she could just ignore everything else in her head and go with the way he’d made her feel—

And then she’d basically humiliated herself, and probably ticked him off. He was too nice to say so, but there were names for girls like her, girls who basically stripped in front of a guy and then didn’t deliver on the unspoken promise—

She’d choked down some bites of the lasagna Sonny had left in Jason’s freezer, knowing if she ate nothing, Jason might want to talk about it, and she wasn’t ready. She didn’t think she’d be ready if she lived a thousand years.

But he didn’t bring it up. He asked her about work, about school, and she found answers, grateful that he was trying to make things normal.  After dinner, she took their dishes and went into the kitchen, happy to have something to distract her.

“I was thinking—”

Elizabeth jumped and spun around, the dish rag in her hand went flying right into Jason. Specifically at his chest, drenching the blue shirt he’d changed into. Her eyes widened, her cheeks reddened.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Jason bent down and picked up the rag. He tossed it back into the sink, where the faucet continued to run.

“I didn’t—” She cleared her throat. “I didn’t hear you come in. I’m sorry.” She ripped paper towels from the roll and nearly raised her hand to dry him, but then thought maybe she wasn’t really ready to touch his chest or run her fingers over his muscles—

Her cheeks flaming, she just held out the towels. “Um, here.”

Jason met her eyes, a bit skeptically, she thought. Then took the towels and blotted at the water. “It’s fine.”

“Right. Right.” Elizabeth turned back to the sink and scrubbed at the already cleaned plate. “Um, you said you were thinking about something.”

“I didn’t really move in,” he told her. “Before you did. I just put clothes upstairs, and Sonny gave me some leftover furniture from storage.” He leaned against the counter next to her. “I never really had a place of my own before. I lived at the boxcar, then Jake’s. Then I was at Sonny’s.”

He didn’t mention the cottage where he’d lived with Robin and Carly, and Elizabeth didn’t bring it up either. “I haven’t either, but that’s probably not news to you.”

“We should probably get some things. I don’t have a television. That doesn’t bother me, but you probably want one.”

“Oh.” She glanced out into the living room, realized how much extra space there was. There was just a leather sofa, armchair, and coffee table with the desk by the door. “Okay.”

“Do you want, I don’t know, a table?” he asked. “Out there.”

Elizabeth made a face. “Like a dining table? Wouldn’t that just mean people would come over? You don’t like people.”

“No, but you do.”

“Not lately.” Elizabeth shook her head. “No, we’ve got the table in here if we really want to sit down. I thought—” She folded her arms. “Um, I thought—you’d know better—but it looks like there might be enough space for a pool table.”

Jason squinted, then looked out at the space she gestured at. “Yeah, maybe. But—you—do you play?”

“No. Um, no. But you do.” Restless, she twisted the ring on her finger—something she’d done a thousand time with the one she wore on her index finger, but the new one—the diamond Jason had slid on her fourth finger that day—it still felt somewhat uncomfortable on her finger, so she twisted it, and the glint of the stone must have drawn his attention because he dropped his eyes to it.

Elizabeth stopped, then clasped her hands behind her back. “Um, unless you prefer to go play at Jake’s. You probably do. And you should keep doing that like before,” she said in a rush. “I mean, you used to do that all the time, but you don’t anymore, and I don’t want you to think you have to baby sit me—” And maybe he’d want to get away from her because she was a babbling idiot child—

“I went to Jake’s all the time,” Jason cut in, his tone almost amused, “because I didn’t have anything better to do. I wanted to look for a fight most of the time.” He stepped towards her but Elizabeth instinctively stepped back, flushed, caught herself and stepped forward, but the moment was lost. He put his hands in his pockets. “I don’t really feel like going there the way I did before,” he continued. “You’re right. That’d be a good spot. I’ll measure.”

“Jason—” She started, but then closed her mouth, miserable. He’d probably been about to say something sweet and wholly untrue about how he didn’t need Jake’s because he had her, but she’d ruined it, like she ruined everything— “Um, I’m tired. I’m gonna go up early.”

Jason nodded. “Okay. I’ll be up in a while. I have some paperwork to do from the warehouse.” He waited another moment. “You’ll probably be asleep before I finish.”

Her throat tightened. He was giving her a reassurance—he’d stay downstairs until she fell asleep so it would be less awkward. As if anything could be— “Okay. Um, good night.”

She flew out of the kitchen before he could say anything, angry with herself for how she’d ruined her own wedding night.

Now that I’ve tried to
Talk to you and make you understand
All you have to do is close your eyes
And just reach out your hands and touch me
Hold me close, don’t ever let me go
More than words is all I ever needed you to show
Then you wouldn’t have to say that you love me
‘Cause I’d already know
– More Than Words, Extreme

---

Tuesday, January 4, 2000

St. Timothy’s Church: Chapel

Ten minutes earlier…

Jason tugged at the collar of his shirt, then glanced at Sonny standing next to him without a care in the world. Of course not. He wasn’t the one getting married, Jason thought, then returned his attention to the set of double doors at the end of the aisle, separating the chapel from the anteroom.

Father Coates emerged from a room off the front of the chapel, clad in the elaborate white and gold robes that he wore during Sunday services. He nodded to a woman sitting at the organ off to the side who began to play.

He swallowed hard as the first notes of the wedding march wafted through the church. This was really happening. He was really getting married, and any second, the doors at the end of the aisle would open and—

Alexis pushed both of the doors open, flashed them both a harried smile, then went back around a corner, disappearing for a minute. Jason’s collar felt tight again. Was Elizabeth having second thoughts? Third thoughts? She’d be insane to go through with this—

Then Alexis returned and came down the aisle to stand across from Jason, leaving an empty space for Elizabeth to stand.

“We’re good,” Alexis told them both in a voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t worry.”

That was easier said than done. All Jason could do was worry. Would he hurt Elizabeth? Would their friendship be ruined by this? Would anything that had grown between them survive this crazy plan? Six months earlier, she’d barely been a blip on his radar, and now it was as if she consumed his every waking thought—

Elizabeth appeared then, walking from around the corner, pausing at the threshold of the chapel. The tulips he’d given her clutched in her hands, the blooms on on the flowers wavering slightly as her hands trembled.

Her face was pale, her eyes were wide, her chaotic curls spilling around her face, over her shoulders, brushing the wide straps of the dress she wore. Jason’s breath caught at the sight of her, in wedding white, the bodice curving and clinging tightly, then exploding into a fluff of soft, floating fabric that fell just below her knees.

Her eyes locked on his and she offered a smile, even as the tulips continued to tremble. She was as nervous as he was, Jason realized. And she wasn’t moving. The wedding march continued, but she hadn’t taken another step.

He thought about how beautiful she looked, and how much better she deserved on her wedding day than an empty church with only his lawyer and best friend as witnesses. There was no one to walk her down the aisle or to stand up with her.

Without thinking, Jason started moving. He went down the aisle, their eyes holding each other’s until he reached her. He held out his arm, and she smiled at him again, but it was more genuine now and reached her eyes, the sparkle he enjoyed so much lighting them up.

“We’re in this together, remember?” he promised her.

“I remember.” Elizabeth took his arm and then he led her down the aisle to stand in front of Father Coates. She handed the tulips to Alexis, then turned back to take Jason’s hands so that Father Coates could begin the ceremony.

Jason only half listened to the words the priest said, talking about the importance of marriage, the sanctity of the promises they were about to make, and the commitment that was being undertaken. He knew all the reasons they’d agreed to do this, and all the reasons why it might be a mistake.

He hadn’t proposed to her, and she had no engagement ring. There’d been no celebration, no whispered words of love and forever. And yet, for all that he knew this was not a real marriage—

It didn’t feel false. It didn’t feel like a lie. When Father Coates asked Jason if he’d promise to love and to cherish Elizabeth, and he said, “I do”, every word of it felt like a promise he meant to keep.

Elizabeth’s soft, but firm voice repeated the same vow he’d taken seconds earlier, and then the priest asked them about rings. Elizabeth blinked in surprise, but Jason was already turning to Sonny.

His partner handed him the box from the store they’d visited that morning, and Jason turned back to her, opening it and removing a gold band with diamonds inset. He reached for her hand even as she was lifting it to him.

Father Coates prompted her with the vows for the exchange of rings, her voice wavering slightly as he slid the band onto her hand. Then Jason turned back to Sonny who handed him a second gold band, this one plainer and wider to fit his own hand. “I didn’t get a chance to give this to you earlier,” he told her.

Elizabeth exhaled slowly, but then took the ring from him, returning it as she slid it onto the finger of his left hand, her touch light and soft, the red polish of her nails stark against his skin.

Jason repeated the same vows that she’d spoken a moment ago. “I, Jason, receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”

Father Coates blessed the rings, then completed the ceremony. “May the Lord in his kindness strengthen the consent you have declared before the Church and graciously bring to fulfillment his blessings within you. What God has joined, let no one put asunder.” He closed his Bible, then smiled at Jason. “You may now kiss the bride.”

In a rush of breath, Jason looked back at Elizabeth, realizing that they’d done it. They were married. She smiled at him, tremulous but…happy? Was she really? He tipped up her head, then leaned down. Her mouth opened beneath his with a soft sigh, and for a moment, he nearly forgot where they were, his other hand sliding around her waist to draw her closer.

He would have remembered in another minute or Sonny would have coughed or something—but instead, the double doors, which one of the altar boys had closed after the ceremony had begun, burst open, slamming against the back walls.

And there was Carly, standing at the end of the aisle, furious.

---

Elizabeth, still in a daze, had trouble processing the scene at first. Her mouth was still warm from Jason’s as she drew away from him, startled at the interruption.

“What the hell is going on here?” Carly demanded as she stalked down the aisle, her brown eyes snapping with anger. “What is this?”

Jason’s arm, still around Elizabeth’s waist, tensed, and he drew her closer.

“Father,” Sonny murmured, going over to the priest. “If we could have a minute.”

The priest, accustomed to the drama of a wedding involving Sonny Corinthos, merely inclined his head. He left the room, followed by the altar boys and the piano player.

“You think this is going to do anything?” Carly demanded. She focused on Jason. “You think this is going to stop me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jason said evenly. He looked at Sonny. “How did she get in?”

“I don’t know,” Sonny said tightly, “but I’ll be asking that question—”

“Do you expect me to believe you’re marrying this child because you’re in love?” Carly spat. “Please—”

“Carly, I hardly think you want this to get back to your husband,” Alexis said coming forward slightly, reaching out as if she were going to take Carly by the hand and draw her away. “Why don’t we—”

“Don’t touch me!” Carly slapped at her then grabbed Jason by the lapel of his suit jacket, jerking forward.

Elizabeth stepped back as Jason grimaced, reaching up to take Carly’s hands and lightly pushing her back.

“You cannot stand here and promise to love and cherish her when a month ago you were saying you loved me!” Carly cried.

Elizabeth inhaled sharply without thinking, and some of her reaction must have shown because Carly’s eyes were now lit with glee. Jason turned, his face lined with irritation—and guilt.

Because it was true. She could read his expressions now, and she knew that Carly wasn’t lying. Not about that.

Jason had told Carly a month ago that he loved her.

The air was sucked out of the room and reality returned, almost as if the hazy dreamy fantasy she’d been enjoying had been popped like a pin in a bubble.

Jason had barely admitted to more than possessing feelings for her, some of which were sexual. He had not told her he loved her or that he wanted a future with her. He enjoyed being around her, kissing her, and maybe there might be other things in the future.

But he had never lied to her.

“That’s right, little girl,” Carly taunted. “While you were patching him up like a sad, pathetic Florence Nightingale, he was telling me that he loved me! Do you know where he told me?”

That sliced through Elizabeth like a knife. In her studio, of course. That’s where Jason had been a month ago.

“If you don’t leave,” Jason said, stepping between Carly and Elizabeth, “then I’ll make a call to the Quartermaines. This is your last chance, Carly—”

“No, it was your last chance,” Carly snarled. “We were so close to everything we wanted, what we dreamed about, and you’re throwing it away for a child whose legs are glued shut—”

Elizabeth shoved past Jason and swung at Carly, the attack coming as such a surprise that the older woman fell backwards and hit the pew, then the ground. Elizabeth winced as pain laced through her fingers.

“Maybe if you kept your legs shut more often, you’d have less trouble,” Elizabeth retorted as Jason put an arm out, holding her back, staring at her with wide eyes. “Because last time I checked, you’re already married to someone else. If Jason wanted you, he’d be with you.”

Carly rose to her feet, wiping at her lip. “Oh, you have no idea what you just unleashed—I felt sorry for you!”

“I didn’t ask for your sympathy,” Elizabeth bit out. “But you’re going to need it when AJ finds out what you’ve done. Emily told me your prenup has an infidelity clause. You think the Quartermaine lawyers wouldn’t be interested in this little scene? He’ll drag you and up down that court room and you’ll walk out with absolutely nothing.” She smiled, but there was no humor in the expression. “Go ahead, Carly. I dare you.”

Carly hissed, then glared at Jason. “You’re going to be sorry,” she promised him. “This was your last chance.”

Then she stalked out of the church, the door slamming shut with a thud behind her.

Elizabeth’s hands curled into fists, facing away from everyone. She took a minute to get her breathing under control. To cool her expression. If Jason knew she was hurt or upset, he’d feel worse.

And he didn’t have a reason to feel that way. He hadn’t lied. Hadn’t made any promises. Elizabeth had known exactly what she was taking on.

She turned back to the trio, lifting her chin. “I think we need to sign some things before we go, and we need to let the photographer take the rest of the pictures,” she told Jason. “So let’s get it over with.”

“Elizabeth—” Jason began but Sonny elbowed him.

“She’s right. Let’s get it done, then Alexis and I will get out of your hair,” he told Jason.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Every time Jason thought he had a handle on Elizabeth, she flipped and showed him something new. But maybe he needed to stop underestimating her or trying to predict what she might do next, he thought as he unlocked the door and pushed it open, Sonny heading into his own penthouse.

Elizabeth went in first, removing the knit cap from her hair and tossing it on the desk. Then she unbuttoned her jacket, the diamond ring on her finger flashing as the stones hit the light.

“I’m sorry,” Jason said, breaking the tense silence. “I don’t even know how she found out—”

“The city clerk’s office probably,” Elizabeth said absently, laying the bouquet of tulips next to her coat. “They probably saw your name on the paperwork and called Edward or something. He probably couldn’t wait to tell Carly.”

Jason flinched at the reminder that the entire world knew about his previous relationship with Carly, even his own estranged family. “About what Carly said—”

“I didn’t punch her because of what she said to you,” Elizabeth interrupted. “You can handle yourself. I’m just tired of her throwing my rape in my face like it’s something I did to myself. She has no right—”

“No, I know. And I’m sorry you had to hear it, but she deserved it.” Jason reached for her hand, the knuckles red. “You need to keep your thumb outside your fist,” he told her, running his fingers across her skin. “That’s why it hurt.”

“And she’s got a hard head,” Elizabeth muttered. “It’s fine.” She drew her hand back. “I’ll remember that if I have to punch someone else later.”

“Elizabeth—”

“You don’t need to explain anything,” she told him. “About what Carly said. I may not—” She hesitated. “I may not know the extent of your relationship before you were shot, but I’m not an idiot.”

“It wasn’t—” Jason grimaced. “I just want to explain—”

“You don’t need to. You didn’t make me any promises that were broken by what she said, okay?” Elizabeth turned away from him, the fabric of her dress rustling and floating as she moved across the room towards the stairs.

“No, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t wrong. You may not need or want my explanation, but I still want to try.”

Elizabeth sighed, stopping at the base of the stairs, a hand on the railing. “All right. Then go ahead.”

“It’s true what she said. I told her I loved her,” Jason told her, his stomach twisting as her face remained perfectly expressionless. She might be saying nothing now, but he’d remembered the church. The gasp, the pallor of her skin.

“I told her it didn’t matter anymore after what she’d done. But I should have told her the rest of it. That it didn’t matter if I thought I loved her because she’d never be the person I needed her to be. The person I thought she was,” Jason continued. “She can say she loves me over and over again but she’s never done anything but—” He paused because saying it out loud was painful and humiliating but Elizabeth deserved it. “She’s never done anything but hurt me. And whatever I thought I felt for her—I was wrong. Because it’s not love. I should have known better.”

Elizabeth remained where she was, but her eyes had softened. “I’m sorry, Jason.”

“I’m not. If she hadn’t shown me who she really was underneath all the lies and broken promises, I might still think she loved me. That I loved her. I wouldn’t have seen you.”

Elizabeth’s hand tightened around the railing, the skin around her knuckles turning white. “What do you mean? You already knew me—”

“You and I both know things changed while I was staying with you,” he said softly. “That’s why I could walk away from whatever I thought was there with Carly. The night we met at Jake’s, do you remember what you asked me?”

“Do you know what nothing feels like,” she said, her voice scarcely audible. “And you said that’s where you live.”

“Until you,” he told her. “You dragged me back into living, Elizabeth. I told you. There are no words for what I feel for you. Love doesn’t seem like enough, but it’ll have to be.”

Quartermaine Mansion: Foyer

Carly didn’t care who saw her or what they thought as she slammed her way into the foyer and tossed her coat over the banister, preparing to storm up the stairs — until her husband stepped out from the front parlor, his face set like stone.

“We need to talk.”

His anger cut through her own, and Carly remembered that she was limited in her choices. Jason had made his that day in the church, choosing that simpering little waif over her, and now she was stuck for good.

She highly doubted that he was willing to even entertain the thought of getting her out of town now. She’d overplayed her hand, underestimated just how angry he was over Sonny — and she never should have made those remarks about Elizabeth’s rape in front of Jason.

AJ was the only thing that stood between her and losing everything.

Carly turned, her finger gripping the railing. “Why?”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?” he demanded. “I’m not going to have this conversation with you in the middle of the foyer.” He jabbed his finger over his shoulder. “Get in here and let’s settle this.”

Carly grimaced, but obeyed. What choice did she have? Jason had made sure of that, hadn’t he?  And what exactly had AJ learned? Her trip to the church?

“You practically ran out of this house after Grandfather made that announcement this morning,” AJ said, closing both the double doors. “I followed you.”

Carly’s face paled, her heart pounding in her chest, in the throat, almost as if it was going to leap out of her mouth. “What?”

“I followed you to the church. I didn’t go in, so God only knows how you humiliated yourself,” AJ bit out, “but I waited. And then you came out, angry and upset. Jason came out later. With Elizabeth. So I guess you didn’t stop the wedding.” He paused. “And judging from that mark on your face, your presence wasn’t exactly welcome.”

Her cheek still throbbing, Carly folded her arms, and chose to remain silent. She’d give him nothing.

“I don’t know what the hell my brother is thinking, but I don’t care. I have my son,” AJ continued. “And the prenuptial agreement made it clear — if I get proof you’ve had an affair, you walk out of here with nothing and I get full custody of Michael. Do I need to remind you of that?”

“No,” Carly growled. “You don’t. I know what I signed—”

“Do you?” AJ demanded. “Because I wanted my son to have a family. His mother and his father. I know you love him, you know that I love him. I’ve given you everything, Carly! Everything! Unlimited access to every cent I own, and what have you done?”

She lifted her chin, said nothing.

“I have never, not once, done a single thing to deserve the way you’ve treated me,” AJ said. “I didn’t have to marry you, you know that. All of Jason’s money wouldn’t have changed what you did to me. What you both did to me. You tried to destroy my life so I wouldn’t suspect Michael was my son. I have proof that you drugged me, that you tried to break my sobriety.”

Carly gritted her teeth. Damn that Lorraine Miller for turning traitor then fleeing town. “I know that.”

“This is the last time you humiliate me, Carly. The absolute last time. Because I don’t need the prenuptial agreement to destroy you. If you think I won’t drag you into court and divorce you, you’re demented. I have all the cards here, Carly. And you have nothing.”

And she knew it. God, she knew it, and she had no one to blame but herself.

“You and my brother—whatever it was—it’s done. Let him go. If he wanted you, Carly, he had his chance. He married another woman. That’s his answer, isn’t it?”

“You—”

“The next time I find you rushing out after Jason, I’m filing for divorce. Michael is young enough to forget you.”

He left then, slamming the double doors behind him as Carly flinched.

She had no choice now. She had to find a way to make her marriage work, to make AJ think this baby was his.

But Jason couldn’t be allowed off the hook so easily. He was going to have to pay for abandoning her.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Had Jason just…had he…

Love doesn’t seem like enough, but it’ll have to be.

Elizabeth’s hand fell from the railing and she stepped down, off the step. She swallowed hard. What did she say to that? How could she respond? He hadn’t even really said it, had he? But wasn’t it nearly the same? Oh, God, she didn’t know what to do—

But she couldn’t keep standing here, staring at him like an idiot. He was trying, wasn’t he? Trying to explain the twisted, complicated relationship with Carly—and honestly, what did he really owe her? They were married for reasons that had nothing to do with their feelings. Would she expect him to be in love with her after a week of dating if she wasn’t in a wedding dress?

Elizabeth took a deep breath, then went to him, his eyes staying on her with every step she took. Whatever he meant by what he said, whatever was swirling around in her head or his—

She curled her fingers in the lapels of his jacket, then tugged him down to her, kissing him with everything she had inside of her, everything she wanted and dreamed and fantasized about, his mouth warm and sweet against hers, his taste as addictive.

His fingers dug into her hair, tugging her head back to deepen the kiss, crushing her against him, her feet nearly leaving the ground. Blood pounded in her brain, her knees weak, and something was ringing—did she hear bells? What was that?

Jason broke away, breathing hard, his eyes glazed slightly. He brushed her bottom lip with his thumb. “It’s the phone,” he murmured. “Ignore it.”

No argument there, and Elizabeth dove back in, shoving his jacket off his shoulders, hearing it drop to the floor. But Jason didn’t kiss her again, not like that—instead, he kissed the hollow at the base of her throat and everything shivered, tingled, then burst into flame as his mouth moved across her skin, to the curve of her neck and shoulders, his fingers sliding gently beneath the straps of her dress. One slid off her shoulder—

“If you don’t pick up this phone right now, I am getting on a train, and I will use my key and I will come to that penthouse, and I don’t care—

Emily’s voice burst into the room like a gunshot blast and Elizabeth shoved Jason away, confused and startled. Then focused on the answering machine. “What—”

“I’m going to count to five. One, two—”

Her fingers trembling, Elizabeth jerked the phone off the hook. “Emily.”

“Elizabeth Imogene Webber,” Emily said, “you have a lot of explaining to do.”

It was like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over her head. Elizabeth pressed her other hand to her forehead, then looked at Jason, his face still flushed—and had she done that? Unbuttoned his shirt halfway? She drew her hand from her face, staring at it like it was alien to her.

“Elizabeth,” Emily repeated. “Are you listening to me? What is this message? And my mom called me, too. She said you got married. To my brother. What the—I just left for school—”

“I—” Elizabeth’s mind blanked. She had a story, didn’t she? She met Jason’s eyes in a blaze of panic. “I don’t—”

Jason, taking pity on her, pressed a button to put the call on speaker phone. “Emily.”

“Oh, no, it’s starting already,” Emily said, with some disgust. “I don’t think I’m insane for wanting to know what the hell is going on—”

“You know what’s going on,” Jason said, with a patience and evenness that Elizabeth envied. “Elizabeth and I got married this morning.”

“Oh, for crying out loud—”

“We got married because we wanted to,” Jason continued, “and we didn’t wait because we didn’t want to. That should cover it.”

“It absolutely does not—”

“Emily,” Elizabeth said, out of patience. “We got married this morning. Which means you are calling on our wedding night.”

There was a silence on the other line as Emily digested that information. “Listen—”

“And Elizabeth already told you our sex life is none of your business. We’ll call you tomorrow.” Jason hung up on sputtering his sister, plunging the room into silence as Elizabeth’s brain skittered and jumped.

We got married because we wanted to…our sex life is none of your business…

“That should keep her in New York. At least for tonight,” Jason said.

“Maybe. I’ll leave a message for her when I know she’s in class.” Elizabeth absently drew the sagging strap of her dress back over her shoulder, and his eyes followed the movement. She flushed. “Um, I was gonna go and change. I don’t—” She bit her lip. “The fabric is kind of delicate—I just don’t want anything to happen to it.”

Jason dragged a hand through his hair, then nodded. “Yeah, okay. I’ll go—I think there’s some lasagna or something in the freezer. I’ll go defrost it.”

They stared at each other for another long moment, then went their separate ways.

Close your eyes, give me your hand
Do you feel my heart beating?
Do you understand? Do you feel the same?
Am I only dreaming?
Or is this burning an eternal flame?
– Eternal Flame, The Bangles

---

Tuesday, January 4, 2000

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

“I really think you should have your own lawyer look this over,” Alexis said with a grimace. She set the prenuptial agreement in front of Elizabeth, then looked at Jason. “I can have someone here in an hour—”

“You’ve spent the last day trying to convince me to take half of Jason’s assets,” Elizabeth muttered. She grabbed a pen and started scribbling her initials wherever Alexis had tagged the paperwork. “How is my own attorney going to do better?”

Alexis pursed her lips. “I suppose that’s true, but still—”

“If I didn’t trust you or Jason, then I wouldn’t be doing this at all.” Elizabeth finished with by signing her name on the last page, then handing the pen to Jason. “You got what you wanted. I’m stuck with half your income while we’re married.”

“Stuck with,” Alexis repeated, as if that phrase didn’t suggest they were referring possibly millions of dollars.

“Don’t forget, I get half your tips,” Jason said with a half smile. He initialed the paperwork and signed it. “Make sure you keep track.”

“Oh, don’t worry.”

Jason handed Alexis the contract. “Do we need to sign anything else?”

“Not before the ceremony, but there will be a few things after,” Alexis told them. “Name change, forms to put you on the accounts—Don’t make that face. We agreed,” she told Elizabeth. “But it can wait.” She paused. “There’s a chance the DA will subpoena the paperwork,” she admitted. “To prove that Elizabeth was paid for testimony.”

“Wait—”

“The fact that Elizabeth is taking very little,” Alexis continued, “and that there’s not a massive settlement for dissolution is going to work in our factor. I thought it over,” she added. “Elizabeth might have been refusing for good reasons, but no DA is ever going to think you’re being paid off.”

“Well, that’s good news, right?” Elizabeth asked Jason who was frowning at his lawyer.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Now.” Alexis arched a brow. “You had better go ahead and head over to Sonny’s. He wanted to go to the church and talk over security with Father Coates.” When Jason’s scowl deepened, she said, “I’ll get Elizabeth there in time. We have an hour.”

“I need to call Emily,” Elizabeth reminded him. “I made sure to wait until she was at orientation so it’ll be a message, but if you want to help explain this to her—”

“I’m going,” Jason said, with a shake of his head. “She’s just going to yell at us both for doing it without her.” He kissed Elizabeth’s cheek, then left the penthouse.

Her cheeks flaming, Elizabeth turned to Alexis. “Um, thanks. For putting a spin on this prenup thing that makes it look like it works for us. He’s still a little frustrated, I think.”

“It will help us in the long run,” Alexis assured her. “I was thinking like your attorney yesterday, but the point of all of this is to make the marriage look real.” She filed the paperwork in her bag. “I have to run over to Sonny’s and grab a few things, so you leave your message and I’ll be right back.”

The lawyer left before Elizabeth could ask what Alexis needed to grab or why she was coming back. Telling herself that she’d learn the truth soon enough, she dismissed it and turned to the phone.

Time to tell her best friend Elizabeth would be her sister-in-law in about two hours. Hallmark should really make cards for this kind of thing.

Quartermaine Mansion: Family Room

Carly sipped her tea and flipped through the Port Charles Sun, enjoying the tabloid and ignoring the Quartermaine family around her. She hated these morning breakfasts where everyone pretended they were one happy family.

Well, maybe they were but they certainly didn’t include Carly in that family. If it wasn’t for their money—

She barely registered Edward coming in, rubbing his hands together with a grin. He went over to the table pour himself a cup of coffee.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Alan asked suspiciously. “Did you take candy from a  baby or something?”

“Edward,” Lila began, her eyes squinting. “Have you done something?”

“I am hurt, my dear,” Edward said, his eyes continuing to twinkle. “I come bearing good news to this family and all I get is scorn.” He sniffed. “Maybe I’ll keep my secrets to myself.”

“This never bodes well,” AJ muttered, turning away from feeding Michael to focus on the rest of the family. “Grandfather—”

“What secrets?” Monica demanded. “Edward, so help me God—”

“All right, all right. You’ve pulled it out of me.” Edward set down his cup of coffee and his grin deepened. “I had a call from City Hall this morning. Some paperwork was filed yesterday that is going to make this family very happy, indeed.”

“Will you stop being cryptic?” Ned retorted. “What—”

“Jason is getting married. Today.”

The room exploded in noise, but Carly felt it pass over her like a wave. Everything inside her froze, her fingers tightening around the handle of her tea cup.

Jason was getting married.

Today.

God damn it.

“Did you know about this?” AJ hissed to her, jerking her out of her shock. “You didn’t go get a quickie divorce or anything—”

“No, of course not!” Carly’s eyes widened. “I had no idea.” And if she could get out of this marriage with a goddamn Dominican divorce, she would have done it already. Stupid prenuptial agreements and custody agreements.

“Who could Jason be marrying?” Ned said, furrowing his brow as the conversation filtered back in for Carly. “The only gossip I’ve heard is—” He blinked. “Wait.”

“I like Elizabeth Webber nearly as much as Robin Scorpio,” Edward declared. “A good girl from a well-established family. She’s very sweet.”

“And she and Emily are already like sisters,” Monica said, her eyes lighting up. “Oh, that’s wonderful.”

“Isn’t she awfully young?” Alan said, with some skepticism.

“Eighteen,” Edward offered with a shrug. “No younger than my Lila was when she first married.” No one in the room reminded Edward that his Lila had been eighteen when she’d married her first husband, Crane Tolliver, who had ended up not signing the divorce papers leading Lila to live in accidental bigamy for most of her life.

“True, but—” Alan sighed. “Well, I would have preferred Robin, but you’re right. Elizabeth is a lovely young woman. He could have done worse.”

Carly bristled when some eyes fell on her. Absolute jackasses. They could judge her all they wanted —

She was going to stop this stupid wedding from happening. No way Jason was going to try to call her bluff and make her look like a crazy woman.

He was going to pay for this.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

“So, Emily, I wish you were here,” Elizabeth said, “but I promise you, when you come home for Spring Break, we’ll have a party or whatever you want. I love you. Please don’t be mad. Jason and I—” She closed her eyes. “We just couldn’t wait. And hey, like you said, at least it’s not Carly.”

She set the phone back on the receiver, then turned as Alexis bustled in, a few dark garment bags over one arm. “What’s that?” Elizabeth asked.

“Sonny wanted you to have a few choices,” Alexis said as she set the bags on the sofa. “It’s not like you planned to get married, so he just didn’t want you to have to settle for something nice in your closet.”

She had been planning just to grab one of the dresses she’d carted over when she’d packed up her studio, but — “Wait—”

“We couldn’t go shopping,” Alexis told her, “because then someone might have known and we’d lose the element of surprise—” She paused. “I’m sorry. I know this is happening really fast, but—”

“But if we want this to look real—” Elizabeth touched one of the zippers. “The bride should look like a bride.”

“Are you all right?” Alexis asked, tipping her head to the side. “You can stop—”

“No, no—” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “It’s just—you know, I wasn’t like all the little girls who grew up dreaming about their wedding day. I mean, I never even thought I’d get married.” Never thought anyone would stop looking at Sarah long enough to want Elizabeth.  “But then I had dreams last year. After Lucky died. Of what our life would have been.”

She took a deep breath. “I didn’t know that I had an idea of what my wedding day would look like until then, and it always started with the perfect dress. And getting ready with Emily and maybe my grandmother.”

Elizabeth met Alexis’s compassionate gaze. “It’s stupid. The only reason this all feels weird is that Jason and I aren’t just friends, you know? We’re…I guess we’re dating. And now we’re getting married. And we’ll still be dating, only there will be all this legal stuff in the background—it’s just—it’s a lot. Every time I think I have a handle on it what I’m doing, it feels like I get reminded all over again.”

“You don’t have to use a single one of these dresses,” Alexis told her. “If you want to save the idea of a wedding dress for the day when you mean the vows—”

“But that’s the problem, isn’t it?” Elizabeth slowly drew down on the zipper to pull out one of the dresses. “When Jason and I repeat those vows later, I think we’re both going to mean some of them. That’s what makes it harder, I think. Because a part of this is real—just not the most important part.”

“The forever part.”

“Yeah.” Elizabeth set the first dress aside to unzip the next garment bag. “What if it could have been real in a year or two but we’re ruining it because we’re doing this now?”

“I suppose you have to ask yourself if it what you’re doing is worth the risk,” Alexis said. “You can still say no.”

“It just leaves Carly with all the power,” Elizabeth murmured. “She’ll find a way to make Jason’s life a living hell, and the people around him. I can help him stop her.” She returned the dresses to the garment bags. “I should try them on first. Will you—” She bit her lip. “Will you help me?”

“Of course,” Alexis promised. “Whatever you need.”

St. Timothy’s Church: Anteroom

Jason felt like he was coming out of his skin, avoiding Sonny as he paced the small room outside of the chapel.

The security was just as it should be, and he and Sonny were dressed in tuxedos. There was a church with a priest. Everything was going according to plan. In maybe a half hour, Jason would be married. To Elizabeth.

To protect them all from Carly.

Every time Jason thought he had a handle on what was going to happen — something threw him off. Alexis telling them that the prenuptial agreement would help them if the PCPD investigated the marriage, then Elizabeth reminding him that Emily still had to be told—would his sister be angry at them? Would she understand? Would Elizabeth want her to know the truth?

Then he’d gone to Sonny’s where his partner had shoved him into a new tuxedo that reminded him, uncomfortably, of the one he’d worn the last time he’d dressed for a wedding.

The day Sonny had jilted Brenda and left Jason to do the dirty work. That wedding had ended in disaster—

Jason rolled his shoulders. He was fine. This was all fine. Elizabeth was right. This protected them all without sacrificing either of their freedoms or life in Port Charles.

“Maybe you should go inside,” Sonny suggested. He checked her watch. “Alexis and Elizabeth will be here any minute, and you don’t want to see her before the ceremony—”

“I do,” Jason insisted. He wanted just one more chance to make sure she was okay with this—that she wasn’t just doing this to protect him. It didn’t matter that she’d pushed him for this option — he wanted her to be doing this because she was comfortable with it.

“Jason—”

“Don’t—”

The door to anteroom opened then, and some snowflakes swirled in along with the winter breeze. Alexis grimaced as she pushed open the door more firmly, ushering Elizabeth inside.

Elizabeth was wearing a long white coat, her hair tucked up underneath a white knit hat, some snowflakes clinging to the curls that escaped it. Their eyes met and he couldn’t look away for a long moment.

“Sorry if we’re a little late,” Alexis said, unbuttoning her coat. “Thanks,” she said as Sonny helped her out of it. “Traffic was getting a little dicey. It’s snowing harder than we thought it would.”

“It’s fine,” Sonny said. He hung up Alexis’s coat. He jabbed Jason in the ribs. “We should go inside so Elizabeth can take off her coat.”

“It’s no big deal.” Elizabeth reached for the top button.

“It is,” Sonny insisted. “We’re doing everything by the book. In fact—” He looked at Jason. “Why don’t you give her the flowers, and we’ll go tell Father Coates we’re just about ready?”

“Flowers?” Elizabeth said with a blink of her eyes. “Oh, but—”

Jason went over to the bouquet that he and Sonny had picked up on the way over. “I hope it’s okay,” he said as he held it out to her. “I wasn’t sure what to get, but—”

He’d remembered her talking about the white roses Lucky had given her the year before, and how sad roses made her feel, so he’d told the florist anything but roses. He wasn’t entirely sure what kind of flowers were included—but he knew they weren’t roses.

“I like tulips,” Elizabeth assured him, breathing in the scent of the pink, yellow, and red tulips. “Thanks.” She bit her lip, looking down at the bouquet for a long moment, before glancing at Alexis.

“All right, that’s settled. We’ll get you out of the coat and hat, and we’ll get this done.” Alexis eyed Sonny who nodded.

Sonny clapped a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”

“Yeah, I—” Jason looked at Elizabeth one more time, but she was smiling now, handing the bouquet to Alexis for safekeeping. She drew the hat from her head, carefully letting the rest of her hair cascade down her neck. “Yeah, let’s go,” he told Sonny.

If either of them had any second thoughts, the chance had passed to say anything.

St. Timothy’s: Courtyard

Carly cursed as she hurried up to the front doors of the church. She hadn’t been able to do much more than learn that the church was closed between eleven and twelve that day for a private ceremony, and then it had been impossible to get out of the house—

If she missed her chance to stop all of this—

“Excuse me,” a guard stopped her just as she approached front door. “You can’t go in there.”

Carly started to growl at him, but then recognized the guard as someone she’d known during the short time she’d lived with Jason. “Dougie. It’s nice to see a familiar face.”

“Mrs. Quartermaine—”

“I’m not here to make trouble,” Carly said. She spread her hands out. “You can frisk me and everything. I’m just here to give my good wishes to the groom.”

Dougie glanced at his partner who shrugged, then he looked back at Carly. “You’re just going to attend the wedding?” he asked skeptically.

“Of course. I’m a married woman, Dougie. What trouble can I cause now?”

He still looked skeptical, but he stepped back. He was there to guard against threats, not tiny blondes.

Men, she snorted as she continued up the walk. Always underestimating women.

She shoved inside the anteroom, then strode to the chapel doors—throwing them open just as Father Coates completed the ceremony—

Giving Carly a front row seat to Jason and Elizabeth’s first kiss as husband and wife.