Written in 57 minutes.

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

Jason woke abruptly later that night, though he couldn’t say why. The room was pitch dark, without even a glimmer of moonlight sliding through the curtains. The snow had moved in a few hours ago, though they’d never made it out for that ride.

He listened intently—had there been a door creak or footsteps that had jarred him out of sleep? But there was nothing. Just the sound of Elizabeth’s soft breathing. She was curled against his side, her arm hooked across his chest, the tips of her fingers brushing his shoulder.

She was still deeply asleep, though that didn’t mean anything. Elizabeth barely responded to an alarm clock blaring right next to her head.

But there was nothing in the penthouse. No sounds. No movements. Nothing outside beyond the whirl of the wind and the sleeting snow against the windowpane. There was no threat. Just his own thoughts.

He closed his eyes, tried to slide back into sleep. He’d done this before, in the studio, when he’d had pain or worry about the world outside. He’d focus on Elizabeth, sleeping just below him on the floor. Her breathing always lulled him back to sleep, and it was even better now. She was in his arms, and he could feel her soft skin everywhere, her breath warm against his skin where her face tucked into his shoulder.

He stroked her back, and she moved slightly. Her breath changed, and he winced now. Had he woken her?

She shifted, her hand sliding down his chest, away from his shoulders, towards herself, and then she slid up on her elbow. “Jason?” she asked, her words slurred. “Are you awake?”

“I’m sorry, go back to sleep,” he murmured. He touched her face, brushing her hair back, but he couldn’t resist sliding his fingers down her cheek to her neck. He couldn’t see her very well in the dark, but he knew she wasn’t going to listen.

“What’s wrong?” She shivered, and he reached for the blanket that had slid down. He tucked it around her shoulders, but he could see the white of her eyes now and knew she was awake now.

“Nothing,” Jason said, but Elizabeth didn’t accept that. She reached across him, straining for the lamp on his night table. He squinted when the soft light flooded the room and illuminated her face, worry etched into her features.

“Jason—”

He laid back, stared at the ceiling, the way the light cast shadows above them. She tucked herself back into his side. “We have to do the reception.”

“I know.”

Jason frowned, but he didn’t look at her. Still stared at the ceiling. “How did you—”

“Sonny said yes. It’s why you were so angry.” She tilted her head up so that her chin rested on his shoulder, and now he met her eyes. “Once he said yes, it didn’t matter what you wanted. What I wanted. It was already done.”

And that was it, of course. That was why he’d woken in the middle of the night. Why he’d been restless and irritated all day. It didn’t matter. Sonny wasn’t asking Jason, and he hadn’t presented it that way. He’d just told him. This was how it was, and there was no choice.

“I don’t know why things are like this between you and Sonny,” Elizabeth continued, “but I know something’s wrong. You don’t have to tell me,” she added. “It’s just that I’m worried. Your job is to take orders from him, isn’t it?”

And it was that simple, wasn’t it? Would Jason be this resistant if that night in December hadn’t happened? If Sonny had already proven that he was no better than the Quartermaines or Robin or anyone else who thought Jason didn’t know how to think for himself—

“It is,” Jason said hesitantly. “But not about this. Not when it involves you.”

“But it’s not about me—”

“It’s—” Restless, Jason slid out of bed and reached for the briefs nearby on the floor. “I can’t explain it.” Didn’t want to explain it. Didn’t want to explain to Elizabeth that it all traced back to that horrible moment standing in Sonny’s penthouse, bleeding from a bullet he’d taken for Sonny, watching the woman he thought he loved saunter down the stairs in Sonny’s shirt.

How did he begin to tell her about any of that without making it seem like it was the sleeping together that bothered him? It had in the beginning, but then it didn’t anymore. And after watching Elizabeth’s face change that day in the church—

He didn’t want to go through it again.

“You don’t have to—” Elizabeth began, but for some reason that answer irritated him. He turned back towards her, some of his frustration bubbling up and out.

“Stop that,” he said, and it sounded harsher than he’d meant it to because she flinched, then swallowed hard. She dragged the blanket up more tightly, seeming to draw back inside herself.

Jason dragged his hands over his face. “Stop telling me I don’t have to explain myself,” he said, a bit more calmly but the damage was done. “This is about you. Don’t tell me what I’m feeling.”

“I didn’t mean to—” Elizabeth tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t mean to. I just—I just don’t think Sonny sees it as it being about me, and maybe that’s the disconnect, you know? He’s seeing it as business, and you don’t—”

Jason just shook his head and walked away, went over to the window to shove aside the curtain. The bedroom sat over the living room, so the view from here was the same as the balcony, over the lake and the harbor though he could barely see either through the snow.

He heard rustling behind him and turned. Elizabeth had reached for the first clothing she could find—the gray sweater he’d discarded somewhere on the floor, and his mood softened. The collar slid to one side, and the hem hit her midway on the thighs. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“You don’t have to apologize—”

“No, I just—” He sighed. “This would be easier if I told you why Sonny and I are having issues, and I don’t want to do that.”

“Because it involves Carly.”

Jason drew his brows together. “How—”

“I’m not an idiot,” she said with a roll of her eyes. She folded her arms, tucking the ends of the sleeves into her palms. “You talked about Carly doing something that made you see who she was, and you cut them both out at the same time. Why else would you be so mad at Sonny over me? Because it’s not about me,” she said flatly. “It’s because of Carly. They slept together, right? The night you were shot.”

“Yes,” he confirmed with a slow nod, and she sighed. “I’m not mad about that. Not the way you think. I was for a while, but I meant what I told you the day we got married. That I see Carly for who she is, and I’m glad—”

“Jason—”

“And I wouldn’t give a damn about it anymore if it hadn’t been for what Sonny said to me the day after,” Jason hurried to add and she frowned at him. “He came to the boxcar and told me that now I knew who they both were. He did it because he thought I was better off without Carly.”

She swallowed hard, looked away, and there it was. The hurt he hadn’t wanted in the first place, but— “He was right. I know that. But it wasn’t his place to prove it to me.”

“Okay—”

“I thought he understood that. I thought—” Jason shook his head, looked away from her again, out the window to the blinding snow. It had snowed like this the night he’d gone to the boxcar. He’d laid out in the snow, waiting for the numbness to seep throughout his entire body. “I never expected much of Carly, but Sonny was supposed to know better. He was—” How did he explain this? How did he make her understand when he could barely put it into words for himself?

“You told me once that Robin and Sonny had taught you everything you knew,” Elizabeth said. He met her eyes. “And that you grew up in Sonny’s eyes, but not Robin’s.”

That was it. Exactly. He swallowed again. “Robin thought she knew what was best for me. She was right about Carly using Michael, but I didn’t care. I knew she was. But I wanted Michael. It was worth it to me. She took the choice away from me. Just like the Quartermaines,” he murmured.

“And Sonny did that again with Carly.”

“Yes.”

“And now he’s doing it again with this reception thing.” Elizabeth reached for his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“I was wrong about Carly. I know that, and Robin and Sonny were right. And maybe the Quartermaines were right, too. I don’t know. But it wasn’t their job—” His throat tightened. “I’m not damaged. I’m allowed to make mistakes, and no one—” He couldn’t force out the words anymore. Couldn’t make himself finish.

“No one has the right to make choices for you.” Elizabeth clasped his hand between both of hers, bringing it to her chest, resting it against her heart. “Or tell you what you’re feeling. Or be angry when you don’t live your life the way they think you should.”

He nodded. Cleared his throat. “I don’t know if I can keep working for Sonny if this is how it’s going to be.” He met her eyes. “But I don’t know who I am if I don’t work for Sonny. I don’t have anything else.”

“You have me,” Elizabeth said. “I know it’s not a lot, but it’s nothing, right?” She chewed on her bottom lip. “That’s not where either one of us lives anymore. You told me that the day we got married. That I dragged you back into living.”

He dipped his head, kissed her, wishing there were words. Wishing he could make her understand just what she’d done for him.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he lifted her in his arms, marveling for just a moment that he could do this now. That she’d trusted him.

“Do you know why this morning happened?” She murmured against his lips, hooking her legs around his waist. He carried her back to the bed and set her down. “Because you gave me the choice yesterday. When you told me what Sonny had said about not needing the whole year.”

Jason blinked, a bit confused by that. He drew back, but Elizabeth just smiled. “You let me make the choice for myself,” she continued, tracing her thumbs over his cheekbones.  “Trust me to keep making that choice, and I promise you I won’t ever make one for you. We’ll do this stupid reception. Not because Sonny said so,” she added, “but because it’s probably not the worst idea in the world. And then—when you know what you want to do, I’ll still be here.”

“Yeah?” He leaned down and kissed the shoulder left bare by his sweater. “For the whole year?”

“For however long you want me.”

Jason focused on her, on the way she’d said the words and what she might mean, then he kissed her again, losing himself in how she tasted and felt. He didn’t need anything but her.

+12

Written in 61 minutes.

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

Sonny poured himself a cup of coffee and grimaced as Max opened the door for Jason. He was not looking forward to this conversation. “Hey. Sorry if you had plans today.”

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

“I might have been hasty yesterday when I suggested you and Elizabeth could wrap up this marriage thing on your schedule,” Sonny said. He gestured towards the coffee bar, but Jason shook his head. “Had a call from Tagliatti’s people.”

Jason tensed. “What the hell does he want?”

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

“Why the hell not? It’s personal—” Jason began, then shook his head. “It’s not coming from Tagliatti, is it?”

“No. Not only him.” Sonny sat at the dining table, sipped his coffee, even as his blood boiled. He didn’t want Elizabeth in the middle of all of this any more than Jason did, but that was where she’d ended up. “They’re gonna use the party as a cover to take out Sorel. Tagliatti and Vega have their eye on Moreno’s territory, and they’re not interested in letting Sorel solidify his hold.”

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

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

“Wait. Wait—” Jason shook his head. “You know the plan? Damn it, Sonny, you’re in on this—”

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

“I’m not—”

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t get order me around—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Elizabeth set the phone back on the hook and frowned, glancing up when the door was thrown open. Jason stalked in, and slammed it behind him. “Oh. That was quick.” She tucked a piece of hair behind her ears. “You made it sound like you’d be gone for a while.”

“Yeah, well—” Jason glared at the door, before forcing himself to take a deep breath. He turned his attention back to her, his eyes softening even as the tension remained in his face. “If Sonny tries to talk to you, don’t listen.”

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

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

“I do trust you, and I won’t talk to Sonny if that’s what you want.” She bit her lip. “Can I least know what’s going on or—”

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

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

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

That was the absolute last thing Elizabeth had expected to hear and she simply stared at him. “Are you kidding me? That’s what Sonny wants to do? Why does he think I’ll say yes when you don’t think it’s a good idea?”

“It’s—” Jason grimaced. He stalked across the room to glare out the balcony doors. “Because it’s how things are done,” he muttered. “Sonny thinks I’m an idiot, and I don’t know that.”

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

“No.”

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

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

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

“I don’t want this to touch you—”

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

“Then what—”

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

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

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

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

“Okay. So we won’t do it and Sonny will have to figure out something else.” She shrugged and turned back to the phone. “Emily called while you were gone. She’s home for the weekend and wanted to have lunch. I told her I’d let her know—”

“You’re not going to ask any other questions?” Jason wanted to know.

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

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

“Right. That’s what I said.” She gestured to the phone. “Do you want me to call Emily back so we can meet her for lunch or did you have something else you wanted to do?”

“I should head into the warehouse and make some calls, but you go ahead.” Jason leaned down, kissed her. “Thank you.”

It was strange, she thought after Jason had left and she’d made plans with Emily, that Jason seemed so grateful that Elizabeth had taken his side with so little pushback. This was Jason’s way of life, and he was the one calculating all the risks. What business was it of hers to say differently?

She wasn’t surprised, however, when Sonny came knocking mere minutes after he’d likely learned Jason had left. It put a bad taste in her mouth because she knew what he’d be doing.

And Sonny must have seen how she felt when he opened the door, because he sighed. “Jason already got to you?”

“Got to me?” Elizabeth scowled. “What the hell does that mean?”

Sonny walked past her into the penthouse, even though she hadn’t invited him in. “Look, I get why Jason is angry at me, and I hate that it has to be this way. But this life means doing the hard things—”

“And it means you trying to shove a wedge between me and Jason because you think you’re right,” Elizabeth cut in sharply. Sonny stared at her blankly. “What do you expect is going to happen if Jason tells you know, and then I tell him that I’m on your side? You think Jason isn’t going to be mad at me?”

“Elizabeth—”

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

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

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

“Okay, maybe—”

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

“That’s not—”

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

“I didn’t mean for that to happen—”

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

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

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

“This wedding reception is going to happen,” Sonny warned her. “I already told the others yes. So you tell Jason—”

She slammed the door before he could finish.

Kelly’s: Dining Room

Elizabeth was still in a rotten mood when she took a seat across from Emily a few hours later. Emily made a face. “Jason couldn’t be here?”

“No, he had work.” Elizabeth picked up a menu and scanned it. “He said maybe tomorrow—”

“He’s working? Didn’t you just get married? I knew it.” Emily sat back. “I knew something was weird and off about all of this.”

Elizabeth laid the menu down and stared at her best friend. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Since the Christmas Party, you’ve both been acting really weird,” Emily said. “I mean, I’m trying to be okay with all of it, and I’m still glad it’s not Carly, but you have to admit, this all feels really forced.”

She really wasn’t in the mood. “Forced.”

“Is it about the business?” Emily lowered her voice. “Are you helping Jason cover up something?”

And because it was partially the truth, tears pricked at Elizabeth’s eyes. Even her own best friend and Jason’s sister couldn’t believe Jason would be in love with her enough to get married. “Because he couldn’t possibly want to marry me otherwise, right?”

“Elizabeth, that’s not what I meant—”

“But it’s what you think. It’s what plenty of people think.” And even it had started like that, she knew it wasn’t just about the business. About Carly or the PCPD.

“Oh, don’t sound so offended—where are you going?” Emily demanded. “You just got here—”

“I lost my appetite.” She jerked away from the table and stalked out.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

A few hours of grunt work at the warehouse hadn’t rid Jason of his bad mood or irritation, so he left and went home. Maybe Elizabeth would want to take a ride. The roads were clear, and they were supposed to get snow the next day. It would be the last chance for a while—

He found her out on the balcony, the doors wide open, letting the swirl of January winds into the penthouse. Not that he cared, but—

Jason stepped out onto the balcony. “Hey, are you okay?”

Elizabeth turned, then blinked at the doors behind him. “Oh. I didn’t realize—” She sighed. “I just got back from lunch with Emily, and she thinks—it doesn’t matter,” she muttered. “I’m just not in the mood to deal with her. And Sonny came by as soon as you left,” she threw over her shoulder as she looked back out over the edge of the balcony.

Jason tensed. “What did he say?”

“I yelled at him for a while, but it didn’t change anything. He said he’d already said yes, so you need to get used to the idea or something.” She jerked a shoulder. “I’m really tired of everyone telling me what they think or acting like they know better than I do.”

He joined her at the balcony. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow, tell him to leave you alone—”

“I did that before I threw him out. We’ll see if it works.”

He drew off his jacket and dropped it on her shoulders. “Aren’t you cold?”

“I didn’t want to feel anything,” Elizabeth replied, then made a face. “It sounds stupid now. I was just so mad at Sonny, and then Emily—”

Jason ran his hands down her arms, then back up to her shoulders. “Let’s go take a ride. Before it snows and we can’t go for a few weeks.”

“We can do that later, can’t we?” Elizabeth slid her arms around his neck, the jacket dropping to the ground. She leaned up to brush her mouth against his. “I want to be with you. Everything goes away when you touch me.”

That was the best offer he’d had all day, so he lifted her in his arms, kicked the doors closed behind them and headed for the stairs.

+10

Written in 57 minutes. Rated R. Shorter than most of my usual parts, but I wanted to make sure I took my time with this scene and did it right. I don’t normally write things like this, but I’m pretty happy with how it turned out.

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

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

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

“Not until tonight,” he said, and her cheeks flushed when she dragged her eyes up to meet his, to find him smiling because he’d probably known what she was looking at.

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

“Did you want to do something?”

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

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

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

You.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay?” he asked, roughly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You were saying?” she murmured.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

+11

Written in 62 minutes.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

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

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

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

She heard the click of cue balls and looked towards the pool table finding Jason standing there, the long cue in his hands, staring at her. “Oh. I didn’t see you there.”

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

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

“What did she say?” Jason demanded.

“Nothing.” Elizabeth shook her head. “Just came and glared at me. I don’t know what’s going on with that, but I didn’t say anything to her either. I figure with Carly, it’s usually better not to engage.”

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

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

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

“I was thinking of going over to the studio for a few hours anyway,” Elizabeth said, determined not to let his odd mood discomfort her. “Um, did you get lunch or whatever—

“I have to tell you something.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They’d barely even kissed a week ago, and then they’d poured gasoline on everything with this marriage.

Now Sonny had lit it on fire.

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

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

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

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

“It’s fine.” Elizabeth smiled at him. “Really. I’ll just go over to the studio and get some work in. I’ll, um, see you when I see you, I guess.”

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

“I know.”

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

Elizabeth closed her eyes, took a deep breath. She waited until she knew the elevator was gone. Until Jason was probably out of the building, then opened the door again to Francis. “Hey. I’m going to my studio.”

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

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

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

Quartermaine Mansion: Nursery

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

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

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

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

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

She’d seen that insipid little girl at the diner today, but she couldn’t say anything. What was left to say? What threats did Carly have left? She’d blown up the remnants of her last bridge with Jason by going after Elizabeth Webber—whatever chance she’d had at forgiveness for that night with Sonny—

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

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

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

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

They’d never see her coming.

Morgan Penthouse: Hallway

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

He knew he’d messed everything up—had seen the way her entire body had flinched when he’d told her about Sonny and his six month theory. The life had drained out of her eyes, the color fading her from her cheeks. He’d hurt her, and he didn’t know how to make it right.

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

But how did he fix it? Could it even be repaired? Had he ruined everything? She’d probably sat in the studio which had nearly been blown up because him and maybe she’d decided Sonny had done her a favor, pointing out they could end all of this sooner.

He knew from the guard on the door that she was here. The guard was on duty until he came home so she was never alone, but maybe she already given up and was in another bedroom—

Jason didn’t realize how much he’d expected that until he reached the master bedroom and saw light filtering out from beneath the door. She was still awake? That couldn’t be good. Could it?

He twisted the knob, then exhaled in relief. The light at the side of the bed was on, but Elizabeth was on her side, curled up, eyes closed. She’d fallen asleep, the magazine she’d been reading on the floor beside the bed, her fingertips dangling of the edge as if she’d turned over and let it fall.

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

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

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

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

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

Her eyelids fluttered and Jason tensed. He should get up before her, be out of the room before she woke, even if that felt cowardly. He wasn’t ready to face her yet, hadn’t figured out what to say to her to keep her from making that face again, from smiling with her mouth and not her eyes—

But it was too late. She rolled onto her back, stretching her arms over her head, then crossing them over her eyes. “We need darker curtains,” she mumbled. “Can we get them in black?”

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

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

“I can do that.”

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

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

“Good morning.”

“I spent yesterday at the studio,” she said, “thinking about what you said.”

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

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

Jason frowned. “I—”

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

He was, but— “Not that way—”

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

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

“I don’t know what I want to do,” she interrupted. “Because six months doesn’t feel like enough time, but I don’t think it’s right to just…drift into marriage either. It’s a promise. And I don’t think we should just ignore it like it doesn’t matter.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Does that make sense?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Yeah. It does.”

“Do you have to be anywhere?”

“Not for a few more hours.”

“Good.” Elizabeth slid closer. “Can we just lay here for a little while? I missed you last night.”

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

+10

Written in 62 minutes. Took a few minutes to get going, but hey, we have a cliffhanger, so there’s that.

Vista Point

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do what?”

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

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

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

Jason squinted. “You’re not driving.”

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

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

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

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

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

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

“I know it.”

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

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

“But the threat to Elizabeth and Bobbie isn’t there anymore, either. Legally, Carly can’t do anything. She might still try to torment you or go after Elizabeth, but what damage can she really do?”

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

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

Maybe it had been a favor.

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

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

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

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

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

“But—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, yeah. It’s just—”

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

Kelly’s: Dining Room

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not everyone gets a chance to pursue their dream job, Elizabeth. Independence is important, and don’t lose that. But don’t let it cloud everything. Don’t be so stubborn. I’ll miss the hell out of you, but you should think about giving it a go.” Tammy frowned, and turned to look at the door as it jingled. “At least then you’d never have to see people you hate.”

Elizabeth followed Tammy’s eyes, then clenched her jaw as Carly sauntered into the diner and slid onto a stool at the counter.

+8

Written in 65 minutes. Went a bit over, sorry. Ending is a bit awkward, lol, but didn’t want to take another 20 minutes.

Quartermaine Estate: AJ & Carly’s Room

AJ flipped his cell phone closed as he entered the room, finding his wife standing at the window. “The PCPD served a search warrant at the penthouse and the studio.”

Carly turned, her eyes narrowed. “And?”

“And nothing. No arrests.” That didn’t matter to AJ. He’d encouraged her to call, had sat next to her while she’d made her report. He’d grimaced, listening to her depict visiting Jason at the studio and seeing the bullet wound. She’d even thrown her own mother and Elizabeth under the bus, claiming them as witnesses.

While AJ regretted to the risk to Elizabeth and Bobbie, he had more respect for Jason’s way of life. No arrests had been made, and AJ’s source suggested something had gone wrong in the search at the penthouse that had scuttled the case but no one was sure quite what. Either way, Jason and the new wife didn’t look like they were in danger, and Bobbie wasn’t even on the table.

Not that it would matter. Carly had betrayed Jason once again, and this time, AJ hoped like hell his brother would get the picture. Carly didn’t give a damn about anyone but herself and wasn’t worth caring about.

Carly’s lips thinned. “I don’t understand—”

“You threw a grenade at Jason, thinking he’d jump to protect himself, Elizabeth, and Bobbie.” AJ smirked “He did—just not the way you hoped.”

“Shut up—”

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

“Jason would have a scar—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It might even be fun.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jason clenched his jaw. “I—”

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

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

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

“Elizabeth—” Jason got to his feet.

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

“No, but—”

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

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

“Would I be safe in the park?”

“I—”

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

“I guess, but—”

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

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

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

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

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

+9

Written in 57 minutes.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

Alexis and Sonny had followed Taggert and Jason, but by the time they caught up with them, Alexis thought she might be defending Jason on an assault charge.

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

Jason lunged forward but Sonny grabbed his partner’s arm at the same time Taggert hauled Capelli away from Elizabeth who was crying, her cheeks flushed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It was on the floor—”

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

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

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

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

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

“I have every right—”

“Shut your goddamned mouth,” Taggert threw at Capelli who growled. “She’s right. You’ve been pissed ever since you found out about the wedding—”

“He married a witness—”

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

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

“I can do whatever I want—”

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

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

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

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

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

“And that helps us?” Jason asked skeptically.

“They clearly got this warrant based on Carly’s statement,” Alexis said. “The only way to give her statement any corroboration was to find some evidence backing it up. They can’t search now, and I assume even if they searched the studio, there’d be nothing to find.” She shrugged. “They can’t question Elizabeth now because of the intimidation. I won’t let you answer questions under any circumstances,” she said. “No lawyer would. Their case is dead in the water. Without any other evidence.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

+10

Written in 60 minutes.

Quartermaine Mansion: Master Bedroom

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

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

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

“So my little brother got shot at the same time Anthony Moreno went missing?” AJ repeated. “And you knew about it. How?”

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

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

“That’s not answering my question—”

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

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

“I wasn’t wrong!”

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

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

AJ wasn’t that wild about Jason these days — not after months of being lied to and then having to go to court when Jason sued for visitation. But at the end of the day, Jason had loved Michael and been a decent father. He’d walked away from the visitation, and to the best of AJ’s knowledge, walked away from Carly. No way she was this angry if Jason had still been giving her hope. Still —

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

She clenched her jaw. “But—”

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

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

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

General Hospital: Waiting Area

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gail?” Jason echoed, remembering that Baldwin’s stepmother was also a therapist. “Is everything okay?”

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

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

“Yeah.” She stripped off her coat and tossed it over the desk. “You know, like I trust you. Obviously—” Her cheeks flushed, and he knew she was remembering the night before. Standing in front of the mirror. He wasn’t that great at picturing things — but he didn’t think he’d ever forget that moment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I wouldn’t—”

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re not—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Whatever you want.”

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

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

“And you’d—if—I mean, if I asked you to take everything else off—” Her cheeks were flaming now, her voice a bit less sure. “You’d do that, too? You’d stand here in front of me naked?”

“If that’s what you want me to do.” He put his fingers at the buckle of the pants, undid his belt. “Is that what you want?”

“Um. Yes. That’s—” Her voice nearly squeaked as Jason stripped off the belt, tossed it with the shirt, then unzipped his pants. He paused when he was just in his briefs because he wanted her to be sure. Her breathing was even quicker now—

And then there was a knock at the door. Not just a knock, but an aggressive pounding. “Open up! It’s the PCPD! And we have a warrant!”

+10

Written in 73 minutes. Went over again, but some of the Liason scenes are taking longer than usual because I want to make sure they’re just right.

Morgan Penthouse: Kitchen

Elizabeth lingered outside the kitchen for a long minute, playing with the cuffs of her white sweater, still feeling terribly awkward after the night before. After that…incident in the bedroom, they’d had a mostly silent dinner, and then they’d gone to sleep, though she wasn’t sure how much sleep either of them gotten. She remembered laying in bed, staring up the ceiling, feeling Jason next to her, and wanting to set herself on fire from humiliation.

But they should talk about it, right? She chewed on her bottom lip, debating. He obviously wasn’t going to bring it up, but she had started it, so she should finish it right? Maybe. Or she should never speak of it again and run away to join a convent—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. Part of the reason was your protection,” Jason reminded her. “Now we have to go negotiate it.” His eyes iced. “I’m not convinced Sorel wasn’t behind the bomb, but even if he wasn’t—someone was.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good morning. Jase? You about ready?”

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

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

“Um, most of them. There are a few more things I need, but I didn’t really live there long.” Elizabeth shrugged. “Does it really matter? Jason only just moved in here, what—” She looked at him. “A few months ago? And I’ve only been here a few days. If we change everything too fast, wouldn’t that look more fake?”

“Maybe.” Sonny made a face. “Yeah, probably. Still.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then the phone rang, jarring her.

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

“Hey, Mrs. Morgan—”

Mrs. Morgan. Holy crap.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, he did. Gram—”

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

Elizabeth folded her arms. “Gram—”

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

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

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

“I’m glad, Gram. Um—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No Name Restaurant: Private Dining Room

Jason didn’t think much of any of the men he and Sonny worked with, but Joseph Sorel might be one of the worst. He’d almost believed someone else had set the bomb that night in the studio, but Sorel’s stupid, smug smile made Jason think differently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tagliatti?” Sonny said.

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

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

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

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

+10