Written in 75 minutes. Lizzie kept walking back and forth, distracting me, lol, and I wanted to get to this ending point.

Friday, October 27, 2000

 Memphis International Airport: Baggage Claim

Emily lifted her bag from the conveyor belt, then stepped back to wait as Elizabeth searched for her own. “When was the last time you even saw your brother? Like in person? He’s never come to see you, and I don’t think you went to see him. Did you?”

“No—” Elizabeth stopped, snatched the handle of her suitcase before she missed it. “Um, right before my parents went overseas — Steven came home for like twelve seconds. You know, one last family dinner.”

“I can’t imagine not seeing either of my brothers that long. It was killing me that Jason was gone for so long,” Emily said. She scanned the paper in her hand, squinting. “Okay, Grandfather said he arranged for a car to take us to the hotel and that a rental will be waiting for us. Already parked.”

“Grandfather?”

“Oh, yeah, I know you vetoed using the corporate jet—”

“Because it’s insane to fly private when it’s like a two-hour flight, and—” Elizabeth stopped. “And if you’d agreed to the layover in Detroit, we would have saved so much money.” She furrowed her brows. “You said you were going to ask Ned where we would stay since he came through Memphis on his last tour. It’s…it’s somewhere I can pay you back, isn’t it? Like the Holiday Inn or something?”

Emily tilted her head. “Well, I was going to, but then Grandfather said the Peabody had a gorgeous lobby—historical and all that. You’re so artistic, you know, it’s perfect. You’ll love it, he said. And they have a wicked restaurant, and there’s like a spa, and it’s so close to every—don’t give me that look, Liz. Your birthday is on Tuesday. And we’re in one of the coolest cities. We’re going to have a good time after we talk to your stupid brother.”

Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest, but Emily was already waving at the well-dressed man holding a placard looking for Emily Quartermaine. No point in arguing when Emily had her mind made up. And Memphis did seem pretty cool.

“Okay, but for your birthday, you’ll have to come to see me in London so I can spoil you,” she told Emily. “Let’s go.”

Luke’s: Bar

“I think I’ve seen you more in the last few weeks than the last few years,” Luke quipped, setting a bottle of Rolling Rock in front of Jason. “Doesn’t really seem like your scene anymore.” The club hadn’t quite reached the zenith of its Friday night crowd, in body or in volume, but there were enough people that Jason had sat himself at the end of the bar, where it curved towards the kitchen, and looked out over the rest of the club. It wasn’t much different then Jake’s, Jason thought, except Jake knew enough to leave him alone.

Luke probably knew Jason wasn’t interested in conversation, but Luke would never let something like that stop him.

“Wasn’t back then,” Jason said, finally. But since he was here and Luke didn’t look like he was going anywhere— “You know that the deal I told you about? Me and Sonny splitting things off and dealing with Sorel. That’s over. So if you have any problems—take it to Sonny.”

“That lasted about eight seconds longer than I thought I would.” Luke poured himself a whiskey. “You and Corinthos not seeing eye to eye on the whole thing anymore?”

Jason weighed his next words carefully. It would be easy to brush Luke off and leave. He’d come to the bar to distract himself, to avoid being alone with his thoughts. He didn’t owe Luke any answers.

But there’d been a time when Luke had been a confidante. When this club had been almost a second home. How many times had he and Robin grabbed a meal here? How many hours had he spent in the office, sorting out Luke’s haphazard bookkeeping?

His life had started here in some ways. He’d met Sonny here a lifetime ago, sitting outside in the parking lot without a job or any money. Sonny had offered some kindness and some cash to tide him over. Jason had appreciated the gesture, and when Sonny had given him the opportunity to work for him, he’d leapt at it. Sonny was the only person who’d treated him like a whole person after the accident. No, not just a whole person — but as his own person. Not a placeholder for the boy who’d jumped in a car with his drunk brother and had his head cracked open on a rock.

And for years, that had been the through line that kept Jason steady even as every other piece of his newly constructed reality had broken apart. His relationship with Robin, once so strong and familiar, disintegrated until they couldn’t stand each other. His brief experience as Michael’s father — even when Jason had run the business Sonny had left in his care for over a year — he knew that Sonny was out there. A guiding presence.

On a bitter winter night nearly a year ago now, the last piece of that world had been shattered and now Jason had very little left. It was only now, after months away from Port Charles, that Jason realized how small his life had become before he’d left.

“Not a good idea trying to find the answers at the bottom of a bottle,” Luke said, and Jason looked at him, blinked. Realized he’d been quiet too long — and had somehow finished nearly a third of the alcohol Luke had given him. “Runs in the family, you know. Addiction. AJ and Alan could tell you that.”

Jason’s mouth tightened, but he rejected the opportunity to deny Luke’s words — to claim defensively, as he had so often since the accident, that those men weren’t his family. They weren’t in anyway that mattered, but it seemed petty and small to say so.

“I don’t know how much longer I’ll be in town,” Jason said finally, because that seemed like a safe topic. “Sonny doesn’t…really have a use for me.”

Luke didn’t respond right away. Sipped his drink, leaned against the back of the bar. “You can’t be around if Sonny doesn’t need you? What about your sister’s problem?”

“I’ll see that through, but—” Jason lifted a shoulder, almost carelessly. “After that, no point in staying.”

“No point,” Luke repeated. “You know, I almost like having you around. I find your surly nature charming,” he added when Jason lifted his brows. “You and me, we made okay partners back when Corinthos left you high and dry. You’re the only one I ever trusted with the books, you know. You don’t care enough to take my money, and you’re the most honest mobster I’ve ever met. Probably why you washed out real quick when it was your turn to run things.”

Jason scowled. “I didn’t wash—”

“One thing to take the risk yourself, but once you had the kid, you got anxious and worried. And God knows Robin wasn’t gonna try too hard to talk you out of it.” Luke sipped his whiskey again. “I know what that’s like. Trying a different life because a woman makes you want to be better. I did it for Laura as long as I could, you know. Most guys have a bomb put in their limos, they take revenge. Higher body count. You cut and run.”

“I don’t need this—”

“That’s not a criticism, Morgan. It’s a compliment. You had something worth protecting. Robin was a grown woman, could make her own choices to stick around your brand of danger. You bring a kid into it, changes things. Michael couldn’t choose, couldn’t protect himself. So you did the hard thing.” Luke finished his whiskey. “I find it fascinating, I gotta tell you. I always tried to play it both ways. So did Sonny. But not you. You never could. You never liked the shades of gray required to play this game.” He set the empty glass down. “We could do the same terms we had back in the day. Same shares. I’m controlling partner, you do the books. And you drink for free.” He flipped up the bar flap and disappeared into the back office.”

Spencer House: Kitchen

Laura closed the dishwasher, switched it open, then turned to look at her son, still sitting sullenly at the table. “You know, it’d be nice if I didn’t have to guilt you into coming for dinner once in a while, Lucky.”

He sighed at the irritation in her tone, scrubbed his hands down his face, and straightened. “I’m sorry. I told you I’d be in a rotten mood if you made me come over.”

“Hm.” Laura pulled out the chair catty-corner to his, sat down and folded her arms. “Would this have to do with Elizabeth?”

He thought about denying it, but his mother could read a liar from a thousand miles away. Didn’t always do anything with the information, but you couldn’t fool her. “I just don’t understand how she could throw everything away. We just…” He picked at the edge of a napkin, unused from dinner. “We just found each other again.” He met his mother’s gaze. “If I could go back and tell her just to take the stupid job, we’d be fine.”

“Until she had to travel and was gone for weeks, or even months,” Laura pointed, and he wrinkled his nose. Couldn’t argue with that. “Lucky, I haven’t pressed you on this. I wanted to,” she added when he just shook his head, “but I kept quiet. Even after I heard about Kelly’s. I knew it was an accident, but I still hoped you’d come to me.”

“What would that fix? Can you turn back time? Stop me from being an idiot? It’s a temporary job. She’d have been back at Kelly’s by March. I could have dealt with it that long.” Lucky shoved himself to his feet, went to the fridge to root around for something to drink. “Made her happy, didn’t it? But I had to screw it up. And keep screwing it up,” he muttered. He cracked open a can of soda. Waited for his mother to impart some wisdom. “But she’s not perfect either, Mom. She made mistakes, too.”

“Really?” Laura sat back, the corner of her mouth lifted. “Which ones?”

“She—” Lucky scowled. “She twists thing. You say one thing, and all of sudden, she’s turned it and it’s something you never said. She thinks I fell in love with her because of the rape,” he told her bluntly. “And that’s not what I said.”

“What did you say?”

“I—” He stopped. Searched his memory. “I don’t know. She was talking about this job, making it seem important. More important than it is, you know. She’s gonna follow Chloe around for a few months. Travel, sure. That’s fine. But then it’s this transformational thing that’s going to fix her, going to make her who she was before the rape, when she was into this kind of crap.”

“When you didn’t like her,” Laura finished, and Lucky looked at her sharply. “Your father told me that. When I came home from North Carolina, when he was telling me you’d fallen in love for the first time. You thought she was annoying, that her crush on you was a little embarrassing. But it was different now. Now, she was the center of your world,” Laura continued, her voice soft, and Lucky looked down, staring hard at the linoleum. “Before, when she was interested in fashion. In how she looked. When she was silly and vapid.”

“I never…” Lucky exhaled slowly. Sat down in his chair. “I never used those words. If Dad said that, it was how he saw her. He met her, too. He could see—and yeah, I knew she liked me. But I didn’t think about her like that. You meet her and she’s cute and all, but her attitude — it was nasty, Mom. And she was always out to get Sarah, always trying to make herself look better. She pulled some rotten stunts—”

“And then she was raped,” Laura cut in, and Lucky closed his mouth. “And then she was good enough for you to fall in love with.”

He swallowed hard, his throat tight, almost impossible to breathe. “That’s not how it happened. It’s not.” It couldn’t. “I loved her.”

“I’m sure you did, Lucky. And I know she loved you, Lucky. But neither of you are who you’re going to be yet. You’re both so young, even now. And especially then. Before the fire. You’d been through something so terrible, the both of you. Her attack, and the way our family fell apart, Lucky. You found comfort and trust and love in each other. In who you both were at the time. But, honey, can you look at me?”

He force himself to meet his mother’s gaze. “You set very high standards for the people you love. So high that it’s almost impossible to maintain them forever. Your father? You thought he hung the moon. And when you found out he was a flesh and blood human—”

“I don’t want to talk about this—”

“When you realized your father wasn’t perfect, you cut him out. You forced him — and me — to relieve a terrible, buried piece of our past that we had no interest in digging back up,” Laura said. “It was not up to you to force either us to relive. Or to judge how we handled it.”

“Or didn’t handle it,” Lucky muttered. “Fine. Whatever. I’m an asshole—”

“Sometimes, yes, you are.” Laura sighed. “You can be very kind, Lucky. Extraordinarily so. And I’ve loved you every day of your life. You’re loyal and brave and sweet. But you demand perfection from people in your life. Not just perfection, but your idea of perfection. When you found out that I’d had a child during the time I was kidnapped, and that I’d left him to save my own life, and then learned what your father had done to me, what I had forgiven him for, you walked away from me, Lucky. You cut me out. And you decided I was worthless for my choices.”

“Mom—”

“You demand perfection,” Laura repeated, “and when you don’t get it, you are cruel. Unkind. And determined to cut a person down to the marrow. You did that to me,” she said. “To your father, to Nikolas. And you did it to Elizabeth. Because if the conversation you had with her is anything like what you’ve said to me, I’m sorry to tell you — you fell in love with her because she was raped and damaged and you liked that version of her better.”

Almadura Apartments: Street Entrance

The beige block building rose up from the sidewalk, stretching six or seven stories tall, surrounded by a few trees and some greenery that still held some color. Nearly every tree and bush in New York had already lost most of its leaves, but further south — summer was still fighting to keep hold.

The entrance of the building was lit by a dim bulb and a list of names, each accompanied by a buzzer. Elizabeth squinted, searching for the number.

“Well?”

“Hold on, hold on—I thought it was number 15 but that says Corwin—” She frowned. “I don’t see Webber anywhere. Do you?” she asked Emily.

“Let me look—” But a moment later, Emily shook her head, mystified. “No, I don’t. That’s weird. Do you think it’s a mistake?”

“Maybe. Maybe he never updated it. The way he always made it seem, he was so busy. Too busy to call me back, obviously. I’m almost positive it was 15.” She pressed the buzzer, then waited.

A moment later, a voice came through a speaker at the bottom of the panel, tinny and nearly impossible to hear. “Hello?”

“Hello? We’re looking for Steven Webber. He’s supposed to be at this address—” But that wasn’t her voice.

“Webber? Oh, the jackass who lived here before me. He never changed his fricking address. You tell him I’m not forwarding one more damned piece of mail—”

“Wait, wait — how long have you lived here?” Elizabeth asked, leaning in.

“Three months. And no, I don’t know where to find him. If I did, I’d visit and kick his ass. You know he left two busted doors and the landlord still hasn’t fixed them. Go away.”

The voice clicked off and Elizabeth stared at the panel for another moment, trying to reassemble her scattered thoughts. Steven had moved? And never told her? She swallowed hard, blinked back tears.

“I guess we need to go back to the hotel,” Elizabeth said. “We—I’ll call Sarah—”

“Oh, to hell with that. What hospital does he work at? We’re going to get that asshole to talk to us tonight one way or another.”

+31

Written in 59 minutes.

Friday, October 26, 2000

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

“I’m glad you came by.” Sonny stepped back, allowed Jason to walk past him, then closed the door behind him. “I don’t like how it went on Monday. Like I said, I didn’t know you were involved already—”

“Even if I believed you—” Jason waited until Sonny had turned back and was facing him. “Even if I believed you,” he repeated, “that doesn’t explain why you didn’t call me. Talk to me first.”

Sonny lifted a shoulder, almost carelessly, then wandered over to the table that stretched beneath the windows overlooking downtown Port Charles. “I got out of the habit of that, you know. Last eight months. You haven’t been here—”

“Less than two weeks ago,” Jason said, “you sat across from me at Luke’s and told me the Sorel situation was mine to handle. He was bothering Luke, and he was connected to Zander. That was your idea, not mine, Sonny. If you’d wanted to fix your problems with Luke, that was your opportunity.”

Sonny picked up his coffee, sipped it. “Look, I said I screwed up. I don’t know why we have to go six rounds on this. What’s the difference? Either you handle it, or I do—and you weren’t handling it. Just because—”

“You don’t know what I was doing because you went around me.” Jason stopped, shook his head. “No, it doesn’t track. You didn’t call me after, either. The only reason I was there on Monday was Elizabeth and Emily. They both called me. You didn’t. You didn’t check with me, and you weren’t going to include me.”

“You want the truth?” Sonny lifted his brows. “I don’t need you. I thought I did, and I didn’t. And since you barely want to be here, it shouldn’t be an issue for you. This will get handled, and you can g0—” He made a gesture with his hand towards the door. “Wherever you want.”

I don’t need you.

The silence stretched out between them, the words lingering, the tension so thick that even Jason could feel it. What had he thought he’d accomplish by coming here? That Sonny’s apology would seem more genuine? That there’d be some hint of the man he’d thought was his best friend?

“You don’t need me,” Jason repeated, and Sonny dropped his gaze for a moment, then lifted it — but didn’t quite meet Jason’s eyes. “All right. Fine. I’m not going anywhere until I know for sure my sister and Elizabeth are clear. But we don’t have to pretend anymore, do we?”

“Wait. That—” Sonny took a step forward. “That didn’t come out the way I meant it—”

“That doesn’t make it any less true. You told me last winter that now I know who you are,” Jason said, and Sonny fell silent, his hands clutched around his coffee cup so tightly that his knuckles were white. “You were right. I needed to know. And now I do.”

“Jason—”

But Jason was already out the door. He didn’t slam it shut after him, but Sonny flinched when it closed all the same.

Port Charles Municipal Building: Dara Jensen’s Office

Dara tapped her pen against the desk, skimming the notes she’d hastily scribbled during the interrogation that morning, going over it again—and again. And then again.

“You don’t buy it.”

Dara looked up, met the curious expression from Marcus Taggert in her doorway, then sat back, tossing her pen aside. “Do you?”

“No reason not to, I guess.” He sat down, removed one coffee from the holder in his hand. He slid it across the table slightly, and she took it, but didn’t drink. “It wraps up a few loose ends. Makes that connection we needed between Smith and Wilson.”

“And he just…shows up in the squad room,” Dara said. She peeled back the tab on her coffee cup, made a face. “I just…I don’t have a reason to doubt it, except—”

“Except it doesn’t feel right,” Taggert finished, and she nodded. “I hear you. It’s too neat. We needed a connection, and one showing up like it’s Christmas—I don’t like it.”

“That being said,” Dara said slowly, “there’s no reason to throw out the statement. Not yet. Joe Stevens. You come across him in the investigation?”

“No, but most of the rave rats didn’t exactly stick around the night we found the body. We figure maybe fifty to sixty people got away without us knowing. I’ve got some of my guys canvassing the witnesses again with Stevens’ statement. If he was a regular at the raves—”

“Then I’d feel better. A good Samaritan seeing Smith’s picture in the paper and being a good citizen? I’m too jaded to believe it. Not without more. Corroboration.” Dara tipped her head. “But if you had to guess right now, Marcus, just between us?”

Taggert considered it for a long time, then looked at Dara. “The story Smith was peddling? Or trying to? About Emily Quartermaine framing him, putting the body in his car? I didn’t think twice. He’d tried to manipulate her during the kidnapping, and when it didn’t stick, he tried to make it her fault. No reason to think Emily was more than someone in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He sipped his coffee. “But you tell her last week that the case against Smith is in trouble, that he’s trying to tie her to it, and now we’ve got a magical witness that solves our major problem? Makes a guy think.”

“Devil’s advocate,” Dara said. “If we consider that there’s something to Smith’s account, it’s not like Emily doesn’t have connections to pull this off. Between her brother and Nikolas Cassadine—”

“Sure, maybe she’s got the connections but I don’t see the why. I don’t.” Taggert furrowed his brow. “I’d be more willing to think she told her brother the way things were going and maybe Corinthos or Morgan are trying to make the case get over faster. Emily went through some hell, and it wasn’t exactly her first time. Morgan’s got one slightly redeemable quality, Dara. And it’s how much he loves his baby sister.”

“So Smith’s story is bullshit, but we still might get Jason Morgan on witness tampering?” Dara asked. “Maybe Christmas came early after all.”

Hardy House: Elizabeth’s Bedroom

“I just can’t understand why a simple thing like one’s birth certificate has become such a disaster,” Audrey told her granddaughter, setting down a laundry basket next to Elizabeth’s half-packed suitcase. “And I have half a mind to go with you to Memphis and tell Steven exactly what I think about him not returning your phone calls.”

“Gram—” Elizabeth picked through the basket, pulling a few pieces. “As much as I’d enjoy that, I think—” She looked at her grandmother. “No, I know that this is something I have to do on my own.”

“I just wish you’d told me you were having this problem, darling. I’d have been on the phone with your brother and sister, or trying to help you get your parents in contact — or I would have gone to Colorado myself to sort this out. You should not be dealing with this when you’re starting a new job.” Audrey sat at Elizabeth’s desk, the chair twisted around so that it faced the bed. “When you’ve been through so much.”

She knew her grandmother was referring to Lucky and the tumultuous end to their relationship. Elizabeth sighed, sat on the edge of her bed, stared at the carpet. “I didn’t think it was a problem at first, Gram. You know, the state was making a mistake, or maybe I had something wrong. I just…I thought I’d call Sarah or Steven, and they’d tell me where Mom and Dad kept these kinds of things. I thought, at worst, I’d have to go to the storage place in Colorado and dig around. But then Sarah blew me off, and Steven hasn’t even bothered to call me back, not even to leave a message—”

She bit her lip, turned so that one leg was on the bed and she was looking at her grandmother again. “I know you don’t like Jason, and I’m not trying to change that. But Emily’s never had to do more than ask him for help, and he’s right there. No matter what it is. And Lucky resents his parents for reasons that aren’t…entirely wrong. But that doesn’t matter. They’d still show up for him. I know I have you, Gram, and I’m grateful—”

“But it’s not the same as having one of your siblings or your parents step up,” Audrey said, and Elizabeth nodded. “It isn’t. But their failures, Elizabeth, aren’t yours to carry. Family is about far more than merely blood. Take your Emily. She was adopted, you know that. Not at one or two years old, but as a child with memories of where she came from. As a whole person. The Quartermaines, for all their faults, opened their hearts to that little girl, and now I cannot imagine them without her. And nor could they. And Jason? He found it so difficult to connect with every person that was related to him by blood. But he’s made Emily his sister all over again.”

Elizabeth swiped at her eyes, impatient with the tears building. “Emily’s lucky—”

“She is. Your grandfather? Loved my Tommy all his life. Adopted him and made him a Hardy. You and your sister and your brother —” Audrey came to sit next to Elizabeth, reached for her hand. “Your father isn’t my blood, but that doesn’t matter. Family comes in all shapes and forms, my dear. Sometimes you’re fortunate enough that you don’t have to look further than your own home for that family. But families are made through choice and love every day of the week. Your siblings, your parents — they are poorer for not making that choice, Elizabeth.” Audrey swept Elizabeth’s hair behind her ear. “My life is far richer and more interesting because you are my family. And look at what Emily is doing for you. Because she loves you. And you’d do the same for her.”

“I would if I could.” Elizabeth exhaled slowly, nodded. “You’re right. I know you are.”

“Up here maybe,” Audrey said, tapping Elizabeth’s temple lightly. Then she pressed two fingers against Elizabeth’s chest. “And one day your heart will catch up.” She hugged Elizabeth, kissing her cheek. “You and Emily, you go to Memphis, and you drag the information out of your brother. Or I’ll be on the next flight. You tell him that, Elizabeth.”

+26

Written in 67 minutes. Wanted to get the ending right.

Thursday, October 25, 2000

Jake’s: Bar

He almost missed her, sitting by herself at a table near the back of the bar, just before claustrophobic hallway leading to the two bathrooms, both of which were single stalls and had seen better decades. If not for the wait behind the bar while Jake handleda few customers who’d arrived just in front of him, he might have grabbed his beer and gone upstairs.

But he did have to wait, and stood at the bar, scanning the room more out of habit than any interest at what he might see. He wasn’t in the mood to be around people — which Jake’s was filled with this close to the weekend and after the second shift had finished at the warehouses that lined the docks.

And he saw her — sitting at the smallest table Jake’s had to offer, with a half-eaten order of fries pushed aside, and a half-drunk glass of what looked like soda, her arms folded on the table, leaning forward, looking at something he couldn’t see.

Different from the first time he’d met her at Jake’s — had it only been last year? She’d walked in the bar, and he’d seen her immediately of course, though it had taken a second look to recognize her as Emily’s best friend. His only interactions with her had been brief and she’d made so little eye contact, he couldn’t have said what color her eyes were.

That first night, she’d walked into Jake’s, looking for something, her restless energy radiating even as she went to the bar and ordered. Once Jason had noticed her, realized she was Emily’s friend, he’d watched her — he wouldn’t have cared if she’d been served alcohol, but he wouldn’t have let her drive home. He’d told himself just to keep an eye out on her, but he wasn’t going to ruin her night be drawing attention to himself. He’d linger over the game of pool or order another beer until she’d left.

He’d had no choice but to step in, but now, standing in nearly the same place over a year later, Jason let himself do something he rarely did — what would have happened if she’d never come that night or that asshole hadn’t tried to pick her up —

Would he have died that night in December?

He let the question unanswered in his head — after all, it wasn’t really useful to ask those kinds of questions. What was the point? Things happened the way they happened, and looking back — having regrets — it meant staying frozen in place. Never moving forward. You couldn’t change it, so why bother?

Jason took the beer Jake handed him, then wound through the light crowd towards her table. Any doubt that she’d come there to see him disappeared when she turned, and saw him. A smile spread across her features, a nervous one — one corner higher than the other.

“Hey.” He joined at her at the table, pulling out the chair that would put himself between her and the rest of the bar, but angled slightly so that he could still see someone coming towards them. “What’s up? Were you waiting long?” He frowned, tugged his cell phone from his pocket. “I didn’t miss a message, did I? Did something happen?”

“N-No.” Elizabeth pressed her lips together, then shook her head. “No,” she repeated. “But that being your first question kind of makes me feel like I was right to come here. The other night, when you met me in the parking lot, you said that you used to go to Kelly’s. That’s usually how we saw each other. Kelly’s. Or the docks. By accident.” She cleared her throat, dropped her gaze to the plate, then picked up a fry, swirling it in ketchup but never lifting it to her mouth. “Emily said something similar today. About how we had to actually plan to see each other because I don’t work at Kelly’s, and she’s in college. We…our paths don’t cross, you know? So, like, if we’re friends, we have to work at it.” She winced slightly. “It made more sense in my head. Because maybe it’s weird for me to hang out in a bar waiting for you. I should have called—”

“No.” He lifted his hand, palm up, to halt her anxious ramble, not wanting her to talk herself out of whatever she was trying to do. “I get…I get it. We’re friends,” he echoed.

Elizabeth’s lips twitched again and she dropped the fry, picked up her drink. “Plus, in two weeks, I’ll actually be legal to be here, so it won’t be as weird. Anyway. I had lunch with Emily today, and it just really got me thinking — she spent half of it trying to make me feel better. About Lucky, about this birth certificate thing—it’s not important,” she added when he frowned. “I mean, it is, but it’s not the point. You came to see me on Tuesday because you were worried about me. After Luke’s. And I didn’t really…I didn’t do the same for you. Even though I know you were angry that night.”

“You don’t have to—”

“No, I don’t have to,” she interrupted, and he stopped, looked at her. “But a friend would. And I know…I know I do okay in that department. Most of the time. At least where Emily is concerned. It’s just…” Elizabeth paused, squinting slightly. “I usually do better at checking in with my friends,” she continued. “But I’m not that great at with you. And I think it’s your fault.”

Jason lifted his brow. “My fault?”

“That—sounded hostile. And it’s not meant to be. Fault suggests you’re wrong, I guess, and you’re not wrong. You just…” She stopped again, shifted in her chair. “You talked to me. In the beginning,” she added when he tilted his head, a little confused. “About Michael, mostly. But your accident, too. I felt like…we were friends. I’d vent to you, and you’d talk to me. But we…we stopped doing that. And at some point, it was just me. You…started to get really…” Elizabeth bit down on her bottom lip. “I don’t know. Squirrelly.”

“Squirrely,” he repeated. “I—What?”

“Last year. When you got hurt, and I wanted to help you. You…you never told me what happened. I figured it out,” she added when he sighed, looked away. “I’m not an idiot. But you didn’t talk about it. You don’t talk about it. Unless I…I guess, I force you. Or guilt you. Like I did that night after you and Lucky got into it here, and you told me you were looking for a fight, and I had to practically throw a tantrum to get you to tell me why.” She sighed. “And that sounds like I think I’m entitled to know what’s going on in your head, and I don’t want it to sound that way. You get to not talk to me. Or anyone. This isn’t coming out right—”

“No, I follow it.” And it wasn’t the first time he’d heard the criticism. “I just don’t know what you want me to do about it.”

“Nothing, I guess. Because if I have to force stuff out of you, then we’re not really friends. And if I were like that, you’d start to avoid me. And I don’t want that,” she added. “I guess — Emily reminded me today that it’s really easy to be lazy with your friends. Especially the ones that matter. Because you and Emily — you’re the best friends I’ve ever had. I know that I can tell you anything, and that if I’m in trouble, you’ll both be there. I don’t take that for granted. I don’t take either of you for granted.” She bit her lip again, then continued. “So I guess I showed up here tonight because you waited for me on Tuesday, and I wanted to do the same, I think. To make sure you know how much I appreciate you. That it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about things or whatever, but that I’m here. For what it’s worth.”

He didn’t speak right away. Couldn’t. He dropped his gaze to the green bottle in his hands. He rolled it one way, then back the other. He wanted to tell her that it wasn’t the same — that it wasn’t a problem to hang out in a parking lot for ten minutes so he could talk to her. She was giving it weight that it just didn’t have or that he hadn’t meant to put there—

But maybe that was the point she was trying to make. It didn’t have any weight. And it shouldn’t have been that important. But it had been to her.

When he finally looked up, met her eyes again, Jason still couldn’t find the words to respond. To articulate what her gesture meant to him. It didn’t seem like much — she’d sat in a  bar and had some fries. But it wasn’t something that anyone did for him. “You’re right,” he said finally, and she frowned, tipped her head, her brows arched in question.

“Last year. I didn’t tell you,” he said. “Talking about Michael…that was hard,” he admitted. “But I could do it. Because you…could understand that. And I understood it,” he added. “But what happened—” He shook his head, took a long pull from the bottle, feeling the slight burn of alcohol as it moved down his throat. “I couldn’t. You…” He hadn’t wanted to even mention Carly’s name in front of her. How could he say that without sounding stupid? Everyone knew his history with Carly, didn’t they? Emily’s best friend would. “I was embarrassed,” he said finally, finally naming the swirl of heat and twinge in his gut, the mixture rolling through him again.

He knew she wouldn’t laugh at him, or even make a joke, but still the warmth in her eyes surprised him. “Because I can only imagine people had…God I hate this word,” she muttered. “But I guess people had warned you,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “About Carly. And Sonny.”

“Yes,” Jason said finally. “For years,” he continued. Robin. Brenda. Every single member of the Quartermaines. “I don’t believe in mistakes. Or regrets.” he continued. “You…you do what you think is right with what you know, and you live with the consequences. You learn from them, you don’t make them again.” He’d watched Carly and Sonny destroy the people around them over and over again, and had somehow felt outside of it, as if it would never happen to him. The arrogance to think that he, alone, was exempt from their brand of selfishness. Or that the people they’d hurt had somehow been stupid or deserving of the pain that had been inflicted. “So I didn’t say it. Or talk about it.” He looked at her again. “And I don’t really want to do it now.”

“So we won’t. I didn’t want to force you,” Elizabeth repeated. “Or make you feel guilty. You always made me feel safe enough to say whatever I was thinking, and I guess I…I just want to do the same thing. I don’t know how to do it obviously,” she said with a sigh. “But you know, I’ll keep trying.”

“You’re doing fine,” Jason told her, and was rewarded with a smile.

“Thanks. I won’t bring any of that up again,” she told him. “I just want to say…that I know what it’s like to put someone up on—what’s the saying? On a pedestal, you know? Like — they can’t do any wrong. I did that, with Lucky. I watched him cut out his parents, and be cruel to his mother. I watched him hurt Emily and Nikolas—and I even knew how he’d treated me before. I knew what he was capable of,” Elizabeth said, “but when he did it to me — it still felt like—like someone had dumped cold water on me. Frozen to the bone. I thought he loved me. That I was safe,” she said. “And I wasn’t. It’s…” She ran finger along the edge of her glass. “It’s not easy to accept that I was wrong. That I wasn’t special, that our love wasn’t this eternal, perfect thing that could protect me forever. I was just like everyone else in his life.”

Her eyes filled, and she looked away. Jason’s throat was tight. He straightened, opened his mouth to say something, but she looked back, forced herself to smile. “It would be easy to blame myself, and maybe I can. I should. But you’re right. There’s no point in having regrets. It was a lesson I needed to learn, and I can only hope I’ve learned it, you know? That I won’t put myself in a position for him to hurt me again.”

“Yeah.” Jason released a low, slow breath, one that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in. He met her eyes. “You trusted him. More than anyone else,” he said. “You thought he understood who you were. But he didn’t. He never did. He just saw what he wanted to. Someone he could control.” He cleared his throat. “I mean—”

“I know what you mean.” She smiled again, a more genuine one. “I took the bus because my grandmother needed the car. Maybe I could get a ride home.”

+29

Written in 41 minutes. Stopped a little early today  — I’m just so tired. See you tomorrow or Saturday!

Thursday, October 25, 2000

Chloe Morgan Designs: Offices

Emily popped the top from her salad container and slid it beneath the black plastic container. “I don’t like what being adults has turned us into,” she told Elizabeth. “We used to see each other every day.”

“Because you ate at the diner where I worked.” Elizabeth flicked through her notes, occasionally popping a grape in her mouth. “We have actual responsibilities now.”

“Right. Adults. I don’t like it.” Emily scooted her fork around the salad, compiling the perfect combination of spinach, tomato, onion, and carrot. “How’s this going? You still like it?”

Elizabeth scribbled a note beneath the itinerary. “I think so. I spent most of last night memorizing time zones because I’m making travel arrangements for next month—well, I’m planning them. Lottie’s going to approve them. Chloe’s going to Tokyo for some fabric thing—did you know it’s thirteen hours ahead of us?”

“It’s kind of like time travel, don’t you think?” Emily mused. “You get on a plane to London, it takes like eight hours, but it’s only like four hours later. Like you go back in time. Or forward. It’s a shame I couldn’t use that to get more time on homework.” She leaned over the desk, trying to read Elizabeth’s notes upside down. “Is it helping you with yours?”

“It’s not homework—” Elizabeth made a face. “Well, maybe it is. It’s my trial run — booking the flight, the hotel, transportation. I had to do it for a Paris trip, too. I should have paid more attention in high school. You wanna go with me to the mall after work? I think I need to get some language books. French and Italian to start with.”

“I never pass up a mall trip.” Emily speared a tomato. “Have you, uh, heard from anyone since Monday?”

“Other than Jason on Tuesday, no. And—” Elizabeth twirled her pen, considering her next words. “Lucky was waiting for me when I got home on Monday. We had another fight. You?”

“Nikolas is avoiding me. Was it a new fight or more of the same? I mean, you’re okay, right?” Emily furrowed her brows. “You’d tell me if it was a bad one?”

“Just words.” Elizabeth back in her chair. “Before—um, before you know, Valentine’s Day. Did you think I was selfish?”

Emily lifted her brows. “Is that a serious question? Or something Lucky said?”

“Both. I guess. And it’s not just Lucky. I—my parents used to say it to me,” she admitted. “And Sarah used to say it. Maybe it’s…” She bit her lip. “Maybe it’s why I was so upset. My family thinking it was one thing — and maybe I knew Lucky wasn’t my biggest fan. I guess I never let myself think about it. Most of the time I don’t even let myself think about before, but I’m trying to wrap my head around it. Lucky was irritated by me before. And then after, he was my best friend. My rock. He never looked at me twice until it happened.”

“I think,” Emily said carefully, “that you and I didn’t know each other well enough to have fully, fleshed out opinions. And other than my first day back at school, we didn’t run into each other much. I don’t know that I would have called you selfish,” she added. “But opportunistic.” She winced. “Does that sound harsh? I don’t mean it to—”

“No. It’s—it’s not that far off. I mean, I only helped you because I thought it would impress Lucky. Not that it did any good.” Elizabeth sighed, pushed aside her notes and reached for her lunch. “I’ve just been thinking about it lately. About when I moved here. And why I stayed. I could have gone to London that summer with Sarah, you know? And my  dad did say maybe I could finish high school there. I stayed to be with Gram, but also…I stayed to be with Lucky.”

“Do you regret it now?” Emily tipped her head to the side. “Do you wish you’d gone?”

“No. Maybe. I don’t know. I’m glad you and I became friends, and that I got to know Jason,” Elizabeth added. “I guess it doesn’t matter. I didn’t go. But I guess — I almost didn’t take this job because of Lucky, too. I never  thought I’d be that girl, you know? I made my entire life about Lucky, and when he was gone, I was so lost. I wouldn’t have been if I’d had plans outside of him. If art school had been about me, and not us maybe I’d have gone to New York.”

“I get that. I mean, I was going to run away to be with Juan, remember?” Emily wrinkled her nose. “Talk about making dumbass choices to be with a boy. And you did take this job. It was the right choice, Liz. I know it sucks how things worked out with Lucky. Believe me, I was one of the people telling you to keep the faith, right? That you and Lucky were meant to be. I never thought he’d be like this. But it sort of tracks. You know? He makes pictures of people in his head, and when they don’t act the way he thinks they should, he cuts them out. He did to to his mom over Nikolas, and his dad. And now he’s doing it to you because he thinks you should give up everything, stay at Kelly’s forever so he has someone to eat fries with.”  She pointed her fork at Elizabeth. “Don’t let whatever he said the other night screw with your head.”

“Trying not to. But it might not matter if I can’t get my passport. I still haven’t heard from Steven or my parents. And I was on hold with the people in Colorado for like an hour this morning — they can’t find me with my middle name either. But Sarah? They found. No problem.”

“Steven still hasn’t called you back? What a jerk.” Emily dropped her fork. “It’s been a week. You told him how important it was, right?”

“I did. I don’t know what else to do. I was thinking maybe I could just start calling storage places. My parents might have got one when they closed up the house.  But would they even release that information?”

“No. No, you’re not going to waste even one more minute on that phone. Or waiting for someone to call you back.” Emily rummaged in her purse, pulled out a wallet. “Let’s put your new travel skills to rest. Here’s my credit card. Get us a flight to Memphis tomorrow.” She held it out but Elizabeth just stared at her. “I’m serious. Book us a hotel and transportation and everything. We’re gonna show up at your brother’s door and force him to talk to you. And if that doesn’t work, I’m gonna get Grandfather to call Washington—”

“Emily—”

“You ran around all summer trying to save me, the least I can do is get you this passport. And you know what, I’m gonna get Grandfather on it anyway. He’s been bored. But we’re going to Memphis so you can tell your brother what a jerk he is.” Emily waved the credit card again. “Take it and start booking. You know Chloe would let you go in a heartbeat to get this done.”

“Where is Chloe letting you go?” said the woman in question, emerging from her office. She saw Emily, smiled brightly. “Hey, sweetie. How are the classes?”

“A lot of reading, and Elizabeth and I are going to Memphis to track down her brother to get her birth certificate dealt with,” Emily told her. “He won’t call her back.”

“Are you still having trouble getting a valid copy?” Chloe asked, a slight scowl pulling at her features. “That doesn’t seem right. What do your parents say?”

“I…can’t get them on the phone either. They’re with Doctors Without Borders, and I think they’re there somewhere in Eastern Europe. I’ve left messages with their contact, but nothing yet. Chloe—”

“Go to Memphis. And Emily, we should think about getting Edward on this, don’t you think? He’s always looking for a good reason to complain to his senators. Especially with the election coming up.”

“I don’t want to bother anyone,” Elizabeth started to say, but Emily cut her off.

“It’s not a bother. We’ll stay over on Saturday, and do something fun. Maybe go to Graceland. You’ll see. We’ll get this all fixed this weekend. Book a flight for after my last class, I’m done at eleven.” She held out the credit card again. “Let me do this for you, Liz. It’s my turn to back you up.”

+26

Written in 62 minutes. This part is a little short. I know the big pieces of the story, but I haven’t thought out all the connective tissue between them if that makes sense, so some conversations take longer because I want to make sure I’m as close to Jason’s voice as possible, if that makes sense.

See you tomorrow.

Tuesday, October 23, 2000

Chloe Morgan Fashions: Chloe’s Office

“Tell Barbara I’ll call her later—” Chloe paused. “No, strike that. Tell her I’ll call her nine tomorrow morning—her time. And yes, I know that means I have to get up at three to do that,” she added before her assistant could do more than open her mouth.

Elizabeth jotted a note to herself to actual learn the time zones — she didn’t really know any international ones, and could only remember how American zones worked because she’d moved from one to the other.

“Oh, Elizabeth—” Chloe whirled back at the door, causing both Lotte and Elizabeth to nearly run into her. “I know this is short notice, but you can come to New York next week, right? The whole week. I’d need you there by Monday afternoon at the latest.”

“Yeah, no problem—” But Chloe had already heard the first word and dashed down the hall to her next meeting.

Elizabeth bit her lip, then looked at Lottie. “I have a question about New York—”

“I already fast-tracked a company card so you can book future travel, but I’ll handle the flight arrangements this time,” Lottie said, wincing as she sat behind her desk. “I can get you a car to the airport if you need it—”

“No, I—” Elizabeth stopped. “A company card?” she repeated.

“Mmmm. I handle the travel arrangements—the flights, the transportation, hotels — I put together some notes for February. You need to get that right,” Lottie said, her usually friendly face pinched. “Chloe’s planning a huge return launch and if she misses a single day in Paris or Milan because you didn’t understand the time differences—”

“She won’t. I’ll get it right. I promise,” Elizabeth added. “I can do that—”

“Really? Because you still haven’t applied for your passport. Chloe made it clear, didn’t she? The only way you can even try to do my job is if you’re at her side at every minute. You have to be able to travel to London in January. That’s—”

“It’s—I’m getting it handled. There’s just an issue with my birth—I’m handling it,” she said. Or she was damn well trying. She’d spent her lunch break trying to track someone down at the records office in Colorado, and then ten minutes leaving another message for Steven and her contact at Doctors Without Borders. “I won’t let you down.”

“Okay—”

“But I still had a question. About New York. And traveling. I—where do I stay? I mean—I know that’s probably a stupid question, but is there a specific hotel? Do I stay in the same one as Chloe? That can’t be right. Hers cost so much money—”

“Travel is part of the job, so it’s paid for. And of course you travel with Chloe. You stay in her suite.” Lottie flipped through some paperwork, only half paying attention. “Except in London. She has a house there for herself. I usually stay at the flight in Knightsbridge, I’m sure you’ll be there. And there’s an apartment in Chelsea—New York,” Lottie clarified. “That’s—thank you for thinking of it. I’ll add some notes about both places to the binder I’m leaving you.”

“Oh. I—” Elizabeth sat down at her desk, her mind whirling. She’d understood there’d be travel — of course, it had been the center of Lucky’s concerns — and her dreams. But the nuts and bolts of it — the idea that she’d be staying in New York and London residences—

“You look like you’re going to pass out. What’s wrong?”

“What? Oh.” Elizabeth blinked, focused on Lottie. “Nothing. It’s just—I was a waitress at Kelly’s last week and I lived over the diner. This is…”

“A different world,” Lottie finished. “Play your cards right, and Chloe will find a place for you when I get back to work. But screw this up, and I’ll make sure you never work in this industry again. I have just as many contacts as she does.”

Lottie’s advice — or threats, depending on how Elizabeth wanted to think about it — were still echoing in her head hours later as she trudged towards her car in the parking lot, her tote bag full of fabric samples, her arms bogged down with Lottie’s notes to study at home. She had a lot to do before she was on her own — and not nearly enough time to learn it all.

As she approached her car, she realized that someone was leaning against it — waiting for her. Night had already fallen, the only light source from dim street lamps, but Elizabeth would know him anywhere.

“Hey. What are you doing here?” Elizabeth asked. “You didn’t call, did you?” She dumped her things on the hood of her car, started searching for her phone. “I was going to check when I got in the car—”

“No, Emily told me when you’d be done.” Jason straightened. “I mean, I called, but I didn’t leave a message.” He hesitated. “I didn’t really know what I’d say.”

Despite the way their last conversation had ended, her lips twitched. “Hi, it’s Jason. Call me back?” she offered, and he shook his head, but he was smiling, too. “No, I guess that would be too ordinary for you.”

“I used to just go to Kelly’s when I wanted to see you,” he told her, and she made a face. “Sorry. That’s—probably the last place you want to think about.”

“No. No, it’s—it was a good place for me. For a long time.” Elizabeth sighed when she realized the only call she had was the missed one from Jason. Nothing from her parents or brother. Or the state of Colorado. She tossed her phone back in her bag and looped it back over her shoulder, picking up the rest of her things. “I don’t mind thinking about it. I had a lot of  good memories there, and I miss it sometimes.” She unlocked her passenger door, dumped her things, then closed the door to turn back to him. “Especially when I think about how scary what I’m doing here is. Not your kind of scary,” she added when he looked skeptical. “But in a few weeks, Chloe’s entire professional life is going to depend on me, and I just realized how little I know about time zones. Like, what time is it in London right now?”

Jason furrowed his brow. “Well, it’s almost seven here, and it’s five hours. Until the end of the month when the clocks change. And then it’s four.”

“The—right.” Elizabeth let out a long breath. “You know, I didn’t know how to wait tables either and I figured it out. Eventually.” She folded her arms. “So…um, I guess you had something to wanted to talk to me about if you had to track me down.”

“I—” He scratched the edge of his eyebrow. “I didn’t really think about the car—I just—I used to pick you up at Kelly’s—”

“Gram is letting me use the car for now until I can save up for a down payment.” She bit her lip. “You could always just drop me back off at the car if—I mean—” She looked past him to his bike, parked a few spaces over. “It’s been a long day. I could use a break.”

Hangman’s Bridge

Elizabeth leaned over the stone edge of the bridge, closing her eyes. The air was chillier, and there was a bite now to the wind that swirled around this high up over the river. “It’s always so quiet here,” she murmured. She looked at Jason. “We don’t have to talk about last night. We were—it was a disaster from start to finish, and I’m sorry I bothered to go.” She paused. “I mean, I’m just—if that’s not what you wanted to talk about—”

“It—it is,” Jason said, then winced. “I just don’t…I know really know what to say. I don’t like the way I handled it,” he said finally. “With Sonny. I’m sorry you or Emily had to hear any of it.”

“And if we hadn’t?” she asked, turning so that she faced him, her hip pressing against the edge of the bridge. “It’s none of my business, I guess. I’m sorry…I’m sorry I made it weird by bringing up Carly. I, um—” She looked away when he looked at her sharply. Her cheeks heated. “It felt right in the moment, but later, I guess I realized I was sort of…putting myself on the same level, and I don’t—I know that I’m not—”

“You’re nothing like Carly,” he told her, and she dropped her gaze. “That’s not a comparison I’d ever make. She puts herself in the middle. You wouldn’t.”

“I—” Elizabeth lifted her gaze, bewildered. “Because I’m not—”

“But Sonny wanted to put you there.” Jason shifted, looked out over the distance, where the night met the horizon, melding into one. “He knows he was wrong, but he doesn’t admit that well. He’d rather turn the blame on someone else.”

“Okay, but—” That didn’t really explain anything, Elizabeth wanted to say, but stopped herself. “I guess I just don’t understand why Sonny—never mind. It really doesn’t matter—”

“You were right,” Jason told her, simply. “Sonny and I were making it personal. For whatever reasons, and all that matters is making this over. You and Emily deserve to make a clean break from all of it. The other two—” His face tightened. “I don’t really care, but I know you wouldn’t want them to take the weight.”

“I don’t. Our plan might not have a been a good one—or maybe the way we went about it — but all of us wanted the same thing. To make sure Emily couldn’t get in trouble for it. I just don’t know how we can do that anymore. I don’t know what to do. How to fix this. And maybe it’s not fair to expect you to know either—”

“You and my sister are in trouble,” Jason interrupted. “If Zander can tie any of this to you, even with rumor, that will follow you. I don’t care what people say about me. I made sure I don’t have to answer to anyone. But that’s not what you or Emily wants. I told you both — I wanted you to come to me when you couldn’t solve it on your own. Or even before you tried.”

“But I don’t want to cause problems with you or Sonny. I’m—It just feels selfish to expect you to drop everything and fix a problem you didn’t create—”

“Selfish,” Jason repeated. He shook his head. “You’re only in this problem because you’re standing with Emily. You’ve risked your life and your freedom to help her. You’ve done the same for me. When I didn’t deserve it,” he added. “Selfish is the last word I’d ever use to describe you.”

Tears pricked her eyes and she jerked her gaze away from him, staring hard at nothing in the distance. When she was sure she could speak without her voice breaking, she took a deep breath. “Okay. So we’ve cleared it all up. I don’t expect you or Sonny to give us details after this. I know it’s better when we don’t know.”

“It is—” Jason tipped his head. “Are you okay? What did I say?”

“N-nothing. Nothing,” she repeated. “It’s just—it’s been a long day,” Elizabeth said finally. “But we’re okay now. You and Sonny — you’ll handle this, and Emily and I are out of this. Right? Back to a need to know basis.”

“Yeah,” he said slowly, as if unconvinced by her answer. But he wasn’t going to push her, and she was grateful for it. “Come on. I’ll take you back to your car.”

+26

Ending is a little bit awkward, but as I was writing it, I started to doubt my own memory of that storyline on GH, so I wanted to hold off on making it worse, lol. I didn’t realize I was going to need this nugget of information, so I never looked it up, and I couldn’t find the answer in time to finish the scene properly. Off to research 😛

Written in 56 minutes.

Monday, October 22, 2000

Luke’s: Office

He’d already been annoyed when he’d talked to Elizabeth, and then to Emily — both of whom had repeated more than once that they felt trapped into attending whatever bullshit Lucky Spencer had dreamed up. After weeks of dealing with the consequences of a plan thought up by Lucky and Nikolas, Jason wasn’t interested in finding out whatever brilliant idea they’d cooked up this time.

Luke being present didn’t bother him much — but learning he’d gone to Sonny — who hadn’t picked up the phone to talk to Jason before showing up here tonight?

“I don’t understand what’s going on,” Elizabeth said, stepping out from behind him and going to Emily’s side. The two of them remained close to the door and to him, unintentionally creating a divide between them and the others.

Sonny had gone to Luke’s desk — of course, straight to the position of power. He was perusing Luke’s cigar collection, Nikolas watching him with some suspicion (maybe he wasn’t completely useless) while Lucky had planted himself in front of the desk, his arms crossed, chin lifted.

“Nothing’s going on yet,” Luke said, slapping his cigar case shut. “Corinthos showed up without an invitation as far as I know. Told me you’d set it up,” he said to his son. “Thought you didn’t need me.”

“I don’t. But your office is secure. You sweep for bugs,” Lucky said, with a careless lift of one of his shoulders. “Emily said Dara Jenson is suspicious. I figure she’s got to be watching us.”

“She’s not,” Jason said. He closed the door, but didn’t come any closer. “I know someone in her office. She thinks Zander’s full of shit trying to beat the charges. He’s been trying to sell that story to anyone who will listen. Even if his own lawyer doesn’t believe him.”

Emily released an exhale of breath, pressing a fist to her chest. “Seriously? We’re—we’re okay?”

“I said no one in that office believes it,” Jason said, gentling his tone as he shifted slightly to look at his sister. “But Dara’s just an assistant. Her boss is pushing her to use Zander to hook a bigger fish. He wants headlines before the election next month. He’s running for re-election.”

“Politicians,” Luke muttered.

Sonny scratched the corner of his mouth. “That was my read on it — Garrett Floyd. Wants to move up to mayor in a few years. Building a profile for himself to keep climbing. So if they want a big fish, I figure we give them one—”

“If Zander could give her Sorel, he’d have done it already,” Jason interrupted, and Sonny’s eyes darkened. He didn’t like being interrupted. “Dara was pushing Emily about me. No one believes the story Zander’s trying to sell — that it was Emily who put the body in his car. But they think it was us.”

Nikolas frowned. “I don’t understand—does that—does that mean the ADA isn’t looking at the rest of us?”

“They don’t seem to think Emily would have gone to anyone else with this kind of problem,” Jason said dryly and Emily dropped her eyes, looked away. “So, no, other than being her friends and possible witnesses, no one thinks you hid the body of a dead cop for weeks.” He looked at Lucky, at Sonny just behind him. “So you don’t need to get involved. I’m handling it—”

“Actually—I’m handling it,” Sonny said, and Jason grimaced. “Talked to Lucky here, and made some calls. I confirmed what you heard,” he said. “Which means it’s not just your sister’s problem. And that I need to be involved. I already put some things in motion—”

“What? I thought we were—” Elizabeth glared at Nikolas. “You told me we were coming here to talk about what to do—”

“I thought we were, so don’t get pissed at me, okay?” Nikolas retorted. “Lucky, you agreed—”

“Don’t blame him,” Sonny said with a wave of his hand. “He brought the problem to me — the way you all should have months ago. We need Zander’s case to go away. It was on the track to plea agreement before they started talking about dropping the murder charges. We make sure we can tie Zander to the cop before he was dead, and he won’t have a choice.”

Jason exhaled, slowly, trying to gather his temper. “And how do you plan to do that?”

“A witness is going to come forward in a few days,” Sonny said. He started to walk towards the door, stopping in the center of the room, in front of Jason. “He’ll tell Dara he saw the photos in the paper and remembers seeing them at the rave the night the cop went missing.”

“You’re paying a witness?” Luke said with a lift of his brows. “That seems risky.”

“I’m not worried. The guy was known to go to raves, no reason anyone could doubt him.” Sonny lifted his brows. “If he goes to trial, we’ll deal with a jury—” He reached past Jason, to grasp the doorknob and Jason reluctantly moved out of the way. “So everyone can relax. It’s out of your hands now.”

He left then, closing the door behind himself. Jason shot Luke a look, then went after his partner.

“You just couldn’t leave it alone, could you?” Emily demanded. “I told you it was being handled—”

“And now I know it is,” Lucky interrupted. “You wanted me to hand it off to your brother who hates me guts and doesn’t think much of Nikolas, and then keep me in the dark. Well, that’s bullshit, Em. I was good enough to help you when your saintly brother wasn’t around—”

“I let myself believe we could handle this! I was stupid and we were completely out of our depths. Damn it, Lucky, all it would take is for Gia to decide to come clean, and we’re all dead—”

“She won’t be doing that,” Nikolas said, and Emily shot him a malevolent look. “I handled the rest of her tuition to Columbia. She’s already back in the city. Taggert was happy to see her go, thinks she got a scholarship.”

“Until she wants more money, Nikolas. I hope you’re prepared to pay her off for the rest of her life,” Emily snapped. She squeezed her eyes shut, fisted her hands at her sides. “This happened to me. You had no right to go behind my back like this, Lucky.” She looked at him, at her oldest friend. “I was already having trouble even looking at you after last week, but you’ve just made sure I know I can never  trust you again. Liz, let’s get out of here. I have things to do.”

“Wait—” Lucky stepped towards Elizabeth, but she hurried out, down the hall towards the back entrance, with Emily hot on her heels. She slammed the door behind them.

Elizabeth stumbled to a stop when she heard angry, raised voices near the back door. She held up a hand for Emily to be quiet.

“You should have called me. The second Spencer talked to you. You knew I was handling this—” Elizabeth couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard Jason so angry. Maybe that day on the docks when Sorel had stopped her.

“How would I know that?” Sonny said, with sulky note in his voice. “You don’t talk to me. I don’t know what’s going on—”

“Sorel was mine to handle, remember? Because it was about my sister. That was the agreement, Sonny. Are you telling me I can’t trust your word?”

“You don’t trust me, you made that very clear when you told me you didn’t forgive me about Carly.” Sonny’s voice shifted, becoming more resentful and scorned. “Admit it. You’re just waiting for me to screw up with her so you can rescue her. That’s what you do, isn’t it? That’s why you’re pissed. You were going to save the day, and I took it away from you.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Jason demanded.

“I’m talking about you keeping me in the dark. Not telling me that Smith’s case might get dismissed. I told you how I wanted it handled, but it’s not enough for you. You gotta play the hero, right? I hear you already got a start last week in Kelly’s.”

“You’re not making any sense—”

“Don’t play stupid. I know exactly what’s going on. You want to be the one to make Zander Smith pay for what he did to Elizabeth—”

“For what he did to Emily,” Jason corrected, the words sounding like they’d been passed through a clenched jaw. “To my sister—”

“So your guy didn’t show you the file, huh? You didn’t read about Zander’s statement? Why he thinks he was targeted for the frame job! He admitted it! He drugged Elizabeth at one of those damn raves!”

+19

Written in 60 minutes.

Monday, October 22, 2000

Port Charles High: Parking Lot

“Complete waste of time,” Elizabeth muttered, jerking her grandmother’s car door open and tossing her purse in before she climbed in.

She closed the door, switched on the engine, then let her head fall back against the head rest, closing her eyes and considering her options.

She hadn’t heard from Steven or Sarah since the call on Friday night, and her parents either hadn’t gotten the message through their contact or were also ignoring her. The high school hadn’t saved her birth certificate either — it had been used to establish residency and age, and then they’d tossed the copy, keeping only the guardianship contact on file.

A stupid piece of paper shouldn’t be this difficult to get — or important enough to derail her future. Elizabeth was running out of time to get the passport application in before it was too late and if she couldn’t go to London in January, she’d be out of a job. Maybe Chloe would throw her a bone and let her answer phones, but the prospect of traveling and participating in the actual creation and display of the clothes had been dangled in front of her.

Elizabeth didn’t want to mess this up.

Her cell phone, which she’d left in the center console of the car while she’d gone inside, vibrated, sliding back and forth into the cup holder. She answered with looking at the ID. “Yeah?”

“Liz? Is this a bad time?”

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose, then leaved over to switch off the radio, cutting off Christina Aguilera in mid baby come on—

“Nikolas. Hey. No. I just got out of work. What’s up?” Please don’t be about Lucky. Please don’t be about Lucky—

“I just got done with Lucky. Uh, have you talked to him yet?”

“Nikolas—”

“It’s—it’s not about that. Okay? You made it clear you don’t want to talk about it, and we’re not. But we’re all meeting at Luke’s — in the back office. Tonight.”

“We’re all?” Elizabeth echoed. “What does that mean?”

“I left a message for Emily. Lucky wants to talk about….you know.”

Elizabeth pressed her lips together, silently counting to ten. “We don’t need to talk about it. Emily told you guys it’s being handled—”

“I know. And I might hate it, but I get it. It’s just—Lucky doesn’t want to do it that way—”

“I don’t care—”

“It doesn’t matter what you or Emily or even I want. If Lucky thinks he’s got a plan, we’re better off hearing him out and trying to talk him out of it. Instead of ignoring him. I don’t want him trying something on his own. He’s…look, I know we’re not talking about it, but I can’t get around it. Lucky knows fixing things with you might be impossible, but maybe you’ll at least talk to him if he can make this go away. He’s determined to be the hero, Liz. I tried to stop him, but you know how he gets.”

“Yeah.” She exhaled slowly. “Yeah, I know how he is. At Luke’s? I guess his dad is going to be there since we’re meeting in his office.” Luke could be counted on most of the time. “Is Emily calling Jason or do you want me to do that?”

“I…did not get the impression that anyone was supposed to do that. I wasn’t there last week, Liz, but I don’t know if we want the two of them in the same room—”

“Oh, but it’s fine for me to be in the same room with him? I’m obligated to hear Lucky out, but we can’t even include the one person Emily and I want to handle this? No. If you want me or Emily there, Jason has to be included.”

“Come on, Liz. You don’t speak for Emily. She knows how important this is to handle carefully, and she knows Lucky better than almost anyone. We can do this without Jason—”

“I think this entire summer has proved that wrong, don’t you? Fine. Emily can speak for herself. But we asked Jason for help. I’m not going around his back to hear anyone out unless he’s involved. We don’t know if he’s already put something into motion. So it’s me and Jason or no one at all. Your choice.”

Port Charles University: Lewis Hall Commons

Emily dumped her backpack and purse on a table in the corner of the room, and flipped open her phone. She picked through her missed calls — voicemails from Nikolas and Elizabeth — separated by only ten minutes.

“Well, that’s not a good sign.” She sat down, listened first to Nikolas, then directly to Elizabeth. As soon as Elizabeth’s had ended, Emily hit her speed dial.

“Hey, Em. Did you talk to Nikolas?”

“No, I just heard his voicemail. Why are we meeting tonight? He didn’t really explain.” Balancing the phone in the crook of her neck, Emily started to dig through her bag for her biology textbook and notebook to start the reading for the next class. “And all you said was to call you. I started with you.”

“I don’t know exactly, but Nikolas suggested that if we didn’t show up, Lucky might go off and do something stupid—hold on, I’m pulling into the driveway—” Emily heard an engine switch off and Elizabeth’s voice came back over the line much more clearly. “It was a basic blackmail.”

“I wish it weren’t about something so important so we could just tell him to go to hell,” Emily replied. She leaned back in her chair, folding one arm across her chest. “But he’s not wrong.”

“No, he’s not. But neither of them wanted Jason to come tonight.”

Emily sighed, dragged a hair through her hair. “I’m so sick of this. This happened to me. And I know you’re all involved now, but it comes back to me. And I’m tired of them acting like they’re in charge. The penis does not bestow special powers.”

Elizabeth choked back a giggle. “No, it does not. And I’d pay a thousand bucks to hear you say so in those exact words. I told Nikolas I’m not coming without Jason, and I left a message for him. You might want to follow-up with one of your own. He’s going to be pissed, and I just—I’m so pissed off by all of this. I just want this to be over, and we can trust Jason to make it over.”

“And that’s what we’ll tell him to night. That anything either of those morons do is without our consent and I won’t support it. In fact, if it goes down wrong, I’m not protecting them. I’m over it. You called Jason?”

“I just left a message letting him know when this is happening and that we didn’t ask for it. Nikolas was actually, like, you don’t speak for Emily—as if I don’t know exactly how you feel about this—you’re right. They really think they’re somehow better equipped to handle this.”

“Well, we’ll make it clear tonight. I’ll call Jason, too. I want him to hear it from me how much I hate this and don’t want it.”

“We’re going to fix this, Em. One way or another. I’ll see you tonight.”

Luke’s: Parking Lot

The sun had already set by the time Elizabeth pulled into the back parking lot where the staff generally kept their cars. The front lot was already filling up — it was an awkward hour between the happy hour rush and the usual crowd — but it was probably the worst place for a meeting.

Elizabeth had reached the trunk of her car, picking her way carefully through the gravel lot, but stopped when she heard the familiar roar of a motorcycle. It grew louder until the bike was visible down the street. It turned into the lot and pulled into the empty space next to Elizabeth.

“Oh, good. You got the message,” Elizabeth said, meeting him at his bike. He switched it off the engine, and climbed off, letting the bike rest on the kickstand. “I am so sorry about this—”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Jason told her, but his expression was tight, his words a  bit clipped. “I talked to Emily, and she said you were both basically forced into this.”

Elizabeth winced. “Forced is—well, it’s accurate,” she admitted. “But it was mostly Nikolas reminding both of us that Lucky could go off on his own without our input, and we’d be better off at least know what was going on. And I insisted you be here because — well, I guess I wanted to be fair, you know? We asked you to help us fix this mess, and here we are, making it worse. I’m so sorry—I could have filled you in later—”

“No, I want to hear the stupid plan from them,” Jason said, but his expression eased slightly. “Because whatever they’re thinking, I’m not going to do it. And I’ll make it clear they need to stay out of it.”

“Okay—” Elizabeth’s phone rang and she pulled it from her bag. “Oh—” She made a face. “She would call me back right now. Go without me, I need to take this—”

“I’m not in any hurry,” he said.

Elizabeth flipped the phone open. “Sarah, I’m so glad you called me back—”

“Well, I have like three minutes, Lizzie, and then I have to get back to my study group. I have exams this week.”

“Right, well, this will be quick. Do you know where Mom and Dad kept our birth certificates? Gram never got a copy of mine, and I can’t get it from the state for some reason. I wanted to see what yours said to see if I could figure out why mine isn’t coming up.”

“Birth certificate? Seriously? I don’t know where they were when we lived in Boulder, but Dad gave me all my documents when I went to London.” Sarah was quiet for a beat. “I don’t know why he wouldn’t have sent yours to Gram. Maybe he forget. Why?”

“I need to apply for my passport. Okay. Well — I guess I wanted to know how Mom and Dad were listed on yours, like maybe there’s something I can use to help find mine.”

“What do you mean?” Sarah demanded. “You’re making it too complicated. Date of birth and parents. It’s all you need. I mean, you probably don’t even need parents. You have that awful middle name. Make them search for that.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Okay, well, if you think of anything else—”

“I’m not going to think about this after I get of the phone, okay, Lizzie? I have better things to do. Honestly, any child could figure out how to get their birth certificate. Grow up. You’re too old to be calling Mommy and Daddy every time you run into problems.”

“I—” Elizabeth stopped when she heard silence on the line. Her sister had hung up. “Thanks so much,” she muttered to the air. She turned around, looked back to Jason. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“That depends on your definition of okay,” she retorted, then took a deep breath, dropped her phone back in her purse. “It’s—it’s fine. Sarah gave me a lead on my birth certificate that I’ll handle tomorrow. Let’s go inside. I just want this done.”

Luke’s: Office

Emily folded her arms tightly across her chest. “I don’t know what stupid plan you’ve cooked up, Lucky, but I told you, I don’t want any part of it. I don’t want your help anymore. I’m handling it—”

“Oh, we were good enough for you when Jason wasn’t around, but now that he’s here, you don’t need us?” Lucky snapped. “That’s some loyalty for you. How many times have I got you out of trouble?”

“I don’t know, Lucky. Your plans have left me and Elizabeth kidnapped, drugged, held hostage, guns in our faces—we’re not kids anymore. We’re not running away from home, are we?”

“Okay, okay—” Nikolas stepped in between them. “Let’s take a deep breath. I know we haven’t exactly had a lot of success, Emily, but we’ve tried hard to fix this—”

Emily closed her eyes, tilted her head back. “I know. And despite all of it, Nikolas, it’s not over. It’s still happening. We can’t keep going back to the same ideas, over and over again. We have someone who wants to help — help me anyway,” she added when Lucky snorted, “and he has contacts that I don’t—”

“You mean he has a gun and is willing to use it,” Nikolas said flatly.

“I have had it—”

“Are we interrupting?”

Emily turned and blinked when Luke came in — followed by Sonny. The two men came into the room, and Luke went for his cigars. He offered one to Sonny, who accepted. “What—what’s going on? Why are—” She looked at Lucky. “Why are they here?”

“You’re right, Emily,” Lucky told her. “Maybe we can’t handle this on our own—”

“Maybe?” his father offered and Lucky threw him a dirty look.

“You went to your contact, fine. But I can go to mine, right? And they’ve been in the business longer. They know more. And we’ve got a plan.”

Emily opened her mouth, then closed it. “I don’t understand. You’re asking Sonny. That’s the same thing as asking my brother. They’ll just do this together. Why all the drama? Why do any of us have to be here tonight?”

“That’s a good question,” Jason said, stepping in from the hallway, Elizabeth a step behind.

+27

Written in 64 minutes.

Friday, October 19, 2000

Hardy House: Living Room

Elizabeth folded her arms, and frowned. “What do you mean? You didn’t screw up anything, Em—”

“I did. I just—I didn’t really want to tell you or anyone else. I was hoping Zander would make a deal or that I’d just be able to ignore all of this.” Emily turned away, paced a few lengths away until she stood behind the sofa, then spun back. “I told you guys that nothing happened while I was kidnapped. He didn’t hurt me or…anything else. And that’s true. But…” she paused, looked towards the ceiling for a beat, then brought her gaze back to Elizabeth. “He sold me a sob story, and I believed him.”

“I know. You said he tried to tell you that he was in the room and argued with Sorel’s men to leave you alive. But you realized it was a lie. Don’t feel bad for believing him, Em. You were upset, and terrified. You did what you had to do—”

“I didn’t just believe him,” Emily said softly. “I told him that we’d help him get away from Sorel. That all we wanted was to make sure whoever killed Ted Wilson was punished. That…it’s what we thought we were doing. When we put the body in his trunk.”

Her words hung between them, the silence awkward. Uncomfortable.

“You told him we put the body in his trunk,” Elizabeth repeated slowly. “I thought he was making that claim because he’d leapt to the conclusion. I mean, it made sense. He knew he’d left the body with you. And now it was back with him, so—but you told him. Confirmed it.”

“I believed him,” Emily repeated. “I believed that he screwed up and was trying to make it right, but that he owed Sorel—I don’t know. It feels like a jumble now, you know? It was so clear when it was happening, but then later, when I realized he was just a lying piece of—” Her voice faltered, and she dropped her eyes to the ground. “I was just hoping it wouldn’t come up. Or that Dara wouldn’t believe him. I’m sorry—”

“It’s—” Elizabeth took a step forward. “It’s okay, Em. I’m not—I wasn’t there, you know? I can’t tell you if I wouldn’t have made the same choices. And we all do crazy things when were in the middle of the crisis. I told you, I stabbed Lucky once. I didn’t mean to, I didn’t even know it was him—anyway. You did what you had to,” she repeated and Emily looked at her. “You’ll never know if Zander was planning to kill you and make a run for the border. Maybe you made him slow down, or got his trust and he kept you alive. You made a choice in the moment because it felt like the right one. I’m not going to judge what you did now.”

“That’s…nicer than I thought you’d be,” Emily admitted. “Or maybe I figured you and Jason would handle it. Lucky and Nikolas—” She let out an shaky breath. “I don’t know if they’ll be as understanding.”

“We don’t have to tell them. We don’t,” Elizabeth repeated when Emily made a face. “Okay? They know Zander’s making the claim, and you told them we were going to tell Jason and make it his problem. He’s going to handle this, Em. I don’t know how yet, but I trust him. Lucky and Nikolas don’t have to part of this at all anymore.”

“I guess.” Emily sat on the sofa, her knees pressed together, her shoulders hunched, and her hands curled in little fists. “I remembered him,” she said softly. “Taking my clothes off that night. It’s just flashes, but…it wasn’t Sorel’s men. It was him.”

Elizabeth sat next to her, reached for Emily’s hand. She’d known that someone had to strip Emily down that night, but she hadn’t really done more than think about it. The body next to her was the more pressing issue.

“Has…anything else come back?” she asked, and Emily looked at her, confused, then relaxed.

“No. No. He didn’t—I mean, I don’t think—you’d know, wouldn’t you? I mean, especially when you never—” Emily’s eyes went wide. “Never mind. Let’s just leave it at no.”

“You’d probably know if he raped you,” Elizabeth said. Emily pressed her lips together, dropped her eyes again. “You’re a virgin. Your body hasn’t…stretched that way. There’s…sometimes there’s bleeding. We took the sheets, remember? They were clean.”

“Oh.” Emily exhaled in a long breath, like she’d finished a marathon. “Okay. Well, I didn’t…feel different. Down there. So all good.” She hesitated. “Did…did you? Don’t answer th. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—” She started to get up, but Elizabeth tugged gently, and Emily sat back down.

“It was different for me. I hadn’t been drugged. I wasn’t drinking. I wasn’t unconscious. I…everything hurt. All over,” Elizabeth said. “Inside, too. I was a mess. But it doesn’t have to go that far for you to feel violated, Em. You were drugged and a strange man undressed you. Handled your body.  That’s not something you have to ignore. Unless you want us to. I’ll do whatever you need.”

“Right now, I just…I told you, and I told Jason. That’s really as far as I can handle it right now. I just want it to go away, Liz. You know? I don’t want to think about it anymore.”

“Then we won’t.” Elizabeth squeezed Emily’s hand. “We handed this off to Jason, like we should have weeks ago. If he needs us, he’ll tell us.”

“Right.” Emily forced a smile, then got to her feet. “I really do have to work on that paper. Um, don’t forget. Call Steven and Sarah about your birth certificate. And get in touch with your parents. Maybe you’ll get lucky and get the answers fast.”

She wanted to change the subject, so Elizabeth let her. She stood. “I’m calling them as soon as you leave. Good luck on the paper.”

“Thanks.”

After Emily left, Elizabeth left messages for both siblings, and for her parents’ contact at Doctors Without Borders. She didn’t have Emily’s optimism that she’d hear from anyone, but at least she could tell herself that she’d done everything she could before bothering the high school she’d barely attended.

When she’d completed her last call, she didn’t set the phone back on the base. Instead, she dialed another number.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” Elizabeth paused, unsure why she’d made the call or what to say next. So she went with the truth. “Emily just left. She told me she’d talked to you. About what happened with Zander.”

There was a long pause.

“About what she  said during the kidnapping?” Jason asked, a bit hesitant.

“About the night it happened.”

Another pause.

“I’ll pick you up in about ten minutes.”

Kelly’s Diner: Kitchen

“I don’t know how I got suckered into this,” Lucky muttered, dropping another tub of dirty dishes on the counter.

“It’s called money,” Penny told him, sailing past him with her own tub of dishes. “And we’re short on bus boys. Don’t worry, you get a cut of the tips. But, you know, you gotta smile more.”

She was gone before Lucky could think of something to say in return, heading outside to the courtyard for the last few hours of the dinner rush. He’d never liked her.

He didn’t really have a lot of options. Working with his father was out of the question, and his mother was always asking questions, looking at him closely, like she was waiting for him to screw up, or break down.

Working at the family diner was really the only choice left.

He emerged from the kitchen, fishing in the pocket of the apron for the order pad and scowling at the pencil that had broken in the pocket. He dropped it in the cannister behind the counter, found another one.

The bell over the door jingled, and Lucky turned to see how annoying his next table would be. It was Sonny.

His father’s former business partner stopped just inside the entrance, saw Lucky behind the counter. Instead of taking a table, he walked directly towards Lucky, taking a seat at the counter.

“Didn’t know you worked here.” Sonny flipped a cup on the saucer. “I was hoping to find Elizabeth.”

Lucky lifted his brows. “You didn’t hear? She quit. Why do you need her?” he demanded. He leaned in. “Because anything you’re doing about Zander, I should be part of it. Okay? It’s my life on the line, too.”

Sonny squinted. “What?”

“Don’t play stupid. Emily told me she was letting you and Jason handle everything and that me and Nikolas weren’t supposed to worry about it or get involved.” Lucky reached for the carafe of coffee, practically jerking it from the hot plate, then poured it in Sonny’s cup. “It’s bullshit. So anything you need to tell her, you can tell me.”

“I would…except I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Lucky bobbled the coffee slightly, and it sloshed over the tip of the cup, filling the saucer beneath it. “Jason didn’t tell you?”

“No. Why don’t you fill me in?”

Vista Point: Observatory Deck

The nights were growing colder, and it was even chillier up in the hills, and at the overlook that offered a half decent view of Lake Ontario — when it wasn’t cloudy and dark.

For now, the view wasn’t much more than a gray, black mash-up, the two colors swirling together until it was difficult to tell the horizon from the lake.

“I should have asked her about it a long time ago,” Elizabeth said, leaning back against the railing, shoving her hands into the pockets of her coat. “But we really just focused on the problem, you know?”

“I didn’t ask her either,” Jason admitted. He leaned over the railing, his fingers wrapped around the cracked and peeling painted wood.

“She’d been kidnapped, Jason. You had other priorities.”

“She was found next to a dead cop, Elizabeth. So did you,” he said, and she made a face.

“So if you’re off the hook, so am I. Still doesn’t make me feel any better.” Elizabeth sighed. “And she feels guilty about telling him the whole story. I’m not so sure Lucky or Nikolas are going to handle that part well. I told her not to  say anything to them.”

“So did I. I don’t want them involved,” Jason told her. “They’ve made enough stupid mistakes. And don’t try to tell me you went along with it—you and Emily wanted to get help from the beginning. The only thing you’re guilty of is listening to those idiots.” He winced. “That’s not fair—”

“But it’s accurate. And Emily and I are more willing to leave this in your hands. They might not be.”

“I’ll handle that if I have to. Look—” Jason paused. “You passed this off to me, the both of you. I’ll handle it. But it’s probably best if we don’t talk about it after this. Any of us.”

“Right. You want us to have plausible deniability. No lying required when we honestly don’t know what happens next. I’m for it. I just—we created a mess, Jason. I know making it your problem is the right solution, but that doesn’t make me feel less guilty for dropping it on you.”

Jason nodded. “I get that. I can’t change the way you feel, but maybe next time, you remember the way you feel right now, and it’ll stop you or Emily from doing it again. Maybe.”

“Next time?” Elizabeth said, lifting her brows.

The corner of his mouth slid up in a half-smile. “It’s you and Emily. There’s always a next time.”

+32

Written in 59 minutes.

Friday, October 19, 2000

Kelly’s: Courtyard

The first mistake was stopping at the diner  for coffee — and the second was lingering long enough that she didn’t make it out of the parking lot before a familiar car pulled into the spot next to hers.

“Wait—” Nikolas practically leapt from his Jaguar, dashing to the back of Emily’s car, ostensibly to prevent her from getting in her car and backing out. “You’re not returning my phone calls—”

Emily sighed, closed her car door and turned to face Nikolas, her coffee still in hand. “I haven’t talked to anyone all week, okay? I’ve been making up all the work I missed, you know, when I was kidnapped. And there’s no reason for us to talk. I told you. I handed this off to my brother.”

Nikolas scowled, stepped closer to her. “Don’t you think I have right to weigh in?”

“We tried it your way this summer, Nikolas. Your way was to listen to Lucky and look where we are,” she hissed. “I’m not innocent either. I let you convince me to keep my brother out of this, but I’m not making that mistake again—”

“Jason has no reason to give a damn about me or Lucky. How do you know he won’t sacrifice us to save you and Elizabeth?” Nikolas demanded.

Emily rolled her eyes, shifted the strap of her bag higher on her shoulder. “Because you don’t know my brother at all. One false step, and we all go down. He knows we’re tied together. And I wouldn’t let him screw you or Lucky over. Bad ideas or not, we all agreed—”

“But I don’t have say now? This is my life on the line, too—”

“I don’t have time to argue about this again, Nikolas. I’m doing what I should have done in the beginning — making this Jason’s problem to solve. I suggest you do the same. Now, please, get out of my way or I’m going to be late for class and my coffee is going to get cold.”

Chloe Morgan Designs: Executive Offices

Elizabeth’s fingers were aching as she furiously scribbled notes, trying to absorb every beat the conversation between Chloe and one of her designers.

“We’ll show the Alana in Milan, I think,” Chloe said, flipping to another page in the portfolio. “I think the simple lines will do well there, but the Harriet is better for London — they still enjoy a bit of gaudiness, particularly the hats.”

She continued to make those decisions for another ten minutes, until Elizabeth’s hands were ready to fall apart, but then the designer left and Chloe left the portfolio in the office that Elizabeth was sharing with Lottie to take a call in her office.

The portfolio was left open to the design Chloe had called “Harriet” — a pair of trousers and a blouse. Chloe had made notes in the margin that Elizabeth had put into her own, suggesting a change in fabrics.

Elizabeth’s hands were aching, but she switched to a fresh page in her notepad, exchanged the pen for a pencil, and for the next five minutes, her fingers flew across the page, swapping the graphite pencil for some colored pencils that were on the desk.

Chloe emerged from her office, having changed for her afternoon meeting, still fastening a gold hoop to match the one dangling in her right ear. Elizabeth didn’t hear her at first until the shadow fell across her desk.

“Oh, that’s absolutely perfect! I should have thought about that—”

The sketch was plucked from Elizabeth’s grasp, even as Elizabeth made a hasty grab for it but Chloe was already comparing it to the portfolio sketch.

“I think chiffon in these deep jewel tones—and that pinstripe to the trousers—” Chloe looked at Elizabeth. “This is exactly the look I was trying to achieve.”

Elizabeth blinked, her hands falling to the desk. “What?”

“I’m relaunching Chloe Morgan this year, and I’m desperate for a new look, something to really set us apart. Everything in the last decade has been about minimalism, you know? And that’s great, but it can be really boring in the wrong hands. Do you mind if I give this to Mario? He’ll be able to mock up some examples so we can see what it looks like with the fabrics and colors—”

“Wait. You—” Elizabeth got to her feet. “I was just messing around, you know? Just seeing if I could still—you want to make this into clothes?”

“This is exactly why I wanted to bring you on board, Liz.” Chloe beamed at her. “You’ve got the artistic eye. Lottie’s amazing for details and she’s got a great sense of color theory which is essential, but she’s never been much interested in the design. You listened to Mario and I go back and forth, and twenty minutes later, you’ve taken our ideas and made them into something real. If this is your idea of messing around?” Chloe held up the note pad. “I can’t wait to see what you do when you’re trying.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth’s cheeks heated, and she wrapped her arms tightly across her chest. “Well, you can give it to him, I mean if it helps.”

“Excellent. Oh, just think of how amazing it’s going to be for you to be with us in London, and you get to see your ideas walk down the runaways. How’s the passport coming? You sent the request for your birth certificate, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I did. They said it might be two or three weeks,” Elizabeth said. “But maybe I could call the offices, and see if I could get it faster. Like, if they have overnight delivery or something.”

“Whatever you have to do. I want to make sure you’re with us when the season’s on us. You know Fashion Week is more like Fashion Weeks, rights? London, Milan, Paris, LA, New York—we’re going to have the best time. I’m going to drop this with Mario on my way out. Amazing job this week, Liz. You’re exactly what we needed.”

Luke’s: Bar

Luke emerged from the kitchens, making a face when he saw a familiar figure sitting at the bar, a bottle of Rolling Rock already in front of him. “We’re not even open yet,” he said, stepping behind the bar. He poured himself a tumbler of whiskey. “Which means this isn’t a social call.”

“No, it’s not.” Jason pushed the beer to the side slightly.  “I wanted to talk to you about this summer, and Sorel.”

“What about him?”

“I know there was a rave scene,” Jason told him. “It was mobile, right? Every weekend, it was somewhere else.”

Luke tipped his head. “Sorel’s boys were working it?”

“They were in charge of it. At least that’s what I’ve got. Every location was owned by Sorel or one of his people.”

Luke considered this information. “Makes sense. They were running drugs. That’s where Lucky and all them were at when Emily got grabbed. The last one before it got shut down. The guy who snatched her — he was the dealer, right?”

“That’s what we think, but the cops can’t prove it. No product in his car, nothing but the cop.” Jason met Luke’s eyes, lifted his brows. “And he’s telling his his lawyer and the DA that he didn’t put it there.”

Luke exhaled carefully. “Lucky came in the other day. Told me about their summer shenanigans. He mentioned Emily was talking to you.” He shook his head, sipped the whiskey. “I raised a moron. It brings me no joy to tell you that, but you already know. Admitted he stopped Emily from going higher up for help. No you, no Sonny, no me—morons. He knows better than to handle a dead body on his own. And a cop! Practically playing Whack-a-mole with him.” He set his drink down. “You don’t have to bring me up to speed. What’s the plan?”

“I…don’t know,” Jason admitted. “There’s not much we can do to stop Zander Smith from telling the truth in open court. His lawyer hasn’t gone to the media yet,  but it’s only a matter of time.”

“Quartermaines sell papers, plus the connection to you, to me—yeah. So we gotta shut Zander up. He’s a drug dealer, right? We think he’s the real killer?”

“Yeah.” Jason hesitated. “I have a few connections in lock up,” he admitted. “I could get it done. But—”

“But whacking him puts everyone under the spotlight, and whoever you hire could flip to get out of jail or get reassigned. Your best bet is for him to be out on the loose to do the job personally, but then—”

“Then I’m the suspect,” Jason admitted. “Yeah. Either way—”

“You’re screwed. But both options get Emily  and Liz off the hook. And my kid, which I know isn’t high on your list. We could work it so you got an alibi. You know a lot of people who’d lie for you.”

“I’m not putting anyone, even you, in that position.” Jason took another long sip of the beer. “I don’t know how we get Zander out of jail without getting the charges dismissed. They’re not giving him bail.”

“No. No, that’s for sure.” Luke sighed, stroked his jaw. “How long do you think before this gets worse?”

“Preliminary hearing is in two weeks,” Jason said. “It’s not a closed court, so if it doesn’t leak before then—”

“The media will get the story then. Okay. Let me—let me see who I know on the inside. I might have some connections of my own. And I got some friends I can call,” Luke told him.

“Let me know.”

Hardy House: Living Room

Elizabeth sat back in the desk chair, her fingers still clutched around the phone. “I don’t understand. Do you need more time to look?”

“Not a matter of looking, ma’am. I told you. It’s not in the computer.”

“Yeah, but—” Elizabeth got to her feet at the sound of knocking. She went to the door, flipped the locks and pulled it open, gesturing at the phone to let Emily know she was still occupied. “That doesn’t make sense. Could it be under a different date? I was born really late, maybe it’s on November 2.”

“Wouldn’t change anything. I looked by name and parents. Maybe you weren’t born in Colorado. Nothing else I can do for you.”

“Okay. Okay. Thank you.” Elizabeth hung up, scowled. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“What’s wrong?” Emily closed the door behind herself. “Was that about your birth certificate? I thought it was going to be a few weeks.”

“I called the vital records office, and asked her to look it up, to see if my order was processed yet. She did — and apparently they got it yesterday, and were planning to process next week—I’m getting a letter saying my request can’t be fulfilled.” Elizabeth put the phone back on its base. “They don’t have a birth certificate on file.”

“Well…that’s not possible.” Emily dropped her purse on the armchair, shed her coat. “You were obviously born. And you grew up there. There’s got to be some mistake. Maybe a spelling error or something. Maybe they put dad under G, you know, like G-E-O-F-F Geoffrey.”

“She looked under the last name. And my mother’s maiden name.” Elizabeth bit her lower lip. “The last time anyone saw my birth certificate, it was when I moved here. Dad was back in the country for a few days or something, and he handled it. Maybe I could call the high school. They’ve got to have it on file, right? I didn’t even graduate that long ago. And if I can see the copy—”

“You can see what Colorado should look for. It’s got to be some kind of weird mistake. Like it got digitized wrong, you know? All of that was on paper back then, and maybe they just did it wrong.”

“I’ll go into the high school on Monday. I just—” Elizabeth sighed, sat in the desk chair. “I just want to get this over with, so I can have my passport. Chloe’s talking about using my ideas in a design, Em! I want to be part of it, and I can’t do that if I can’t travel.”

“Oh, well, then we’ll get it done. Let’s not wait for Monday. Can’t you call your parents?”

“Not really. I haven’t talked to them in—” Elizabeth furrowed her brow. “It’s been a while. I have to call their contact at the Doctors Without Borders.”

“Well, do that. And you should call Steven or Sarah. They’re older, right? Especially Steven. Maybe he knows where your dad kept the certificates. If they’re in storage or something, we could get them.   You obviously have a birth certificate. No one gets to your age without one.”

“No, definitely not.” Elizabeth looked at Emily. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask you—what’s up? I thought you were planning to spend the weekend on that paper.”

“I am—but I wanted to talk to you first.” Emily twisted her fingers. “About what happened when Zander kidnapped me. And how I screwed everything up for all of us.”

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