Category Archives: Flash Fiction

August 3, 2020

This entry is part 10 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Darkest Before the Dawn

Written in 20 minutes. No time for edits or typos.

Elizabeth nervously played with the straw on her iced tea, then looked up with relief when Spinelli finally came in through Kelly’s door. He waved, then weaved through the tables to join her in the corner.

“Trying to be incognito?” he asked. “This must be really top secret.”

“Not top secret—” Elizabeth waited as a waitress came over and Spinelli gave her a drink order. When they were alone again, she continued, “It’s more that I just don’t want anyone to hear. I might be wrong—” She wanted to be wrong. Oh, man, so much. “It’s just…something is so weird and I can’t pretend that—”

“Back up.” Spinelli held up hand. “Whose results are we talking about?” He hesitated. “This isn’t, like, before, right? With Aiden? Or Jake? Like what level are we talking about?”

“A few months ago, Jason was talking with Tea Delgado about her son.” Elizabeth sighed. “This was, um, back in early August, I think. Before the whole water thing. And Tea mentioned that her son—you know, Victor?—he has this genetic illness. An illness that is…common in the Cassadine family.”

She saw the moment Spinelli knew what she was referring to. “Oh. Damn. You don’t mean—”

“Jason thought it was strange. And there were a few other things—namely, that Todd Manning was involved—that it all kind of happened in the same area—that Sam kind of…had a rough time—” Elizabeth sighed. “Anyway—he didn’t get a chance to do anything with his suspicions because—”

“The world went insane for a while?” Spinelli finished. “Yeah, okay. So how’d you get involved?”

“Well, he told me. In the hospital. After Ewen—” She bit her lip. “And I—I know how much he wanted it to be true. He blames himself.”

“Stone Cold does like to make everything his fault,” Spinelli said with shrug. “It’s one of his fatal flaws. You ran the test?”

“I don’t have the ability to just—” She gestured, then broke off when the waitress brought his drink. “I can’t just get a blood test run on my own. Patrick did me a favor, and it went through the system like a normal test. It wasn’t even a full DNA test — just one looking for enough markers. Those are faster.”

“Right, right. Then what?”

“Brad Cooper brought back the results,” Elizabeth said. “He gave them to me, and I gave them to Jason. Unopened—” she added. “I had nothing—I wouldn’t—”

“Elizabeth.” Spinelli shook his head. “I know you. Even if you’d thought about it, you’d never go through with it. So—Jason was the first person to see the results?”

“Yeah, he said that we were wrong, and we just—we put it away.” She bit her lip. They’d put it away and continued on the path they’d already been traveling. Back to each other.

“So why are you suspicious now? What’s been going on?”

“Brad Cooper. He’s acting weird around me—running from me, just being—really shady.” Elizabeth made a face. “I didn’t really know him before the test—but I know—you’re dating that lab tech, right? Ellie?”

“Yeah. She could run the test for you again if I can’t find anything on the main frame—” Spinelli hesitated. “Wait—Brad Cooper? Ellie said something about him.”

“It’s what made me wonder about all of this,” Elizabeth continued. “Because I know Steven was talking to the head of the department — they were going to make cuts. Layoffs. And Brad had only been hired a few months ago. He would have been first in line.”

“But ELQ made a donation after the water crisis,” Spinelli said. “Oh. You think—”

“Tracy Quartermaine,” Elizabeth finished. “Who does not like Sam.”

“No, I, uh, remember vividly how much she does not like Sam.” Spinelli scratched his nose. “You think she found out? Why would she care? It’s not like it was his kid.”

Elizabeth looked at her iced tea, pushed it across the table. She didn’t want to say it outloud, didn’t want to admit that everything she had right now was built on a foundation that was about to crumble.

Because if she was right, Jason was going to be able to give Sam back the child she’d lost—the loss he blamed himself for. And Sam would forgive him.

“Elizabeth.”

She looked up to meet Spinelli’s kind eyes. “You’re doing the right thing,” he said. “And this is how it went down, you’re going to do something really great for Sam. I wish I could do the same for you. I wish I could bring Jake back.”

“Me, too.” She sighed. “I think Tracy knew what we all knew—if Jason had been the reason Sam got her son back—”

“The divorce might not have been finalized.” Spinelli grimaced. “You don’t think that’s still on the table, do you?”

“I think,” Elizabeth said carefully, “that when this happened three months ago, that was a definite possibility. I don’t know about now. I can’t think that far ahead.”

“Okay.” And gratefully, Spinelli did not push her. “Well, I’ve got some good news for you,” he told her. “Ellie hates Brad, so I don’t even need to do anything nefarious. I can just…ask her to look up the test probably, and I can tell from there if it was messed with. Can you get me another set of samples for her to test?”

“I don’t know. That might be harder,” she admitted. “But let’s start with the original test result and see what comes up.”

—

Jason did not like shopping, and normally asked Carly to pick up something he needed. He’d give her a list and his credit card and that would be the end of it.

But he knew if he asked Carly to help him shop for Elizabeth and the boys for Christmas, he’d have to listen to her complain. Asking Michael meant he might tell his mother—

He just wasn’t in the mood.

So he stood at the jewelry counter in Wyndham’s, staring at the tray of necklaces, wondering why it was so hard to pick something out for Elizabeth after all the years they’d known each other.

“She’s not really a necklace person, is she?”

Jason turned around to find Sam standing behind him, a hesitant smile on her face.

August 1, 2020

This entry is part 13 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Whatever It Takes

Written in 20 minutes. No time for edits or typos.

Jason shook his head. “No. He wouldn’t have killed Carly—” He struggled to sit up, wincing as Steven finished stitching the cut on his leg. “You said—you said you left.”

“He tried to kill me,” Steven said, his jaw clenched. “He came downstairs — raging — I didn’t even know she was dead. I got home and he was less then ten minutes behind me. He threw me against the wall, tried to choke me — I managed to push him. He fell, hit his head—” He cleared his throat. “And I left.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Elizabeth murmured. “I went to your place—it looks like you’d just left. There’s nothing out of place—”

Jason looked at Elizabeth as she stopped talking, and they seemed to realize it at the same time. “Someone cleaned up.”

“You think it was Ric?” Kelly asked. “I mean, he’s done everything else—”

“We think he’s done everything else. I know you think Carly was framed for picking up the bomb, but—” Elizabeth grimaced. “Sonny still ordered them.”

She dragged her hands through her hair. “It’s—we keep running from theory to theory and we still don’t know anything for sure. We know Carly’s dead. We know Sonny ordered the bomb and Carly picked it up, but how we do even know it was the bomb in the SUV?”

Steven frowned at her, got to his feet. “What?”

“How do we know the bomb Carly picked up was in the car? Because the explosives guy died after Jason talked to him? That doesn’t prove anything. The guy might have made another bomb. The only thing we know for sure is that my daughter—” She looked at Jason. “Our daughter is alive. We don’t know how Sam ended up with her. Right now, I don’t care. I want her back.”

She exhaled slowly. “You said she’s probably being moved. Why? I thought Sam left town—”

“Sam moved to Rochester after her daughter was born,” Steven told her. “I called her—and she hung up on me. The next time I called—her number had been disconnected. She went underground right after Carly died. I don’t know where she is, but if Sam is working with Ric—”

“If,” Elizabeth repeated. “I can’t keep doing this, Steven. I can’t keep playing these games. We’re no closer to finding out who planted that bomb than we were a year ago. All I know—I want my daughter. I need—” Her voice broke.

“Spinelli.”

Jason struggled to his feet, pulling out his phone, wincing. The screen was cracked but it still worked. “Let me call him. He found Kelly’s address—”

“That’s how they knew you were there,” Steven snapped. “He told someone—”

“No—” Elizabeth shook her head. “No—that doesn’t make sense. The car exploded after we’d been driving in it—the bomb must have already been in it. They waited until after we’d talked to Kelly.” She bit at her thumb. “Someone was following us. They didn’t need Spinelli to find out anything. They followed us and detonated the bomb. They must have thought you told us something.”

“I don’t know anything,” Kelly insisted. “Except—”

“Except enough to put us on the trail for our daughter,” Elizabeth told her. “They know I went to the hospital. I came straight here. Steven was looking for you. They don’t even need to know what I found out from Patrick.”

“And you don’t think they is Ric?” Jason asked.

“I think that it would be a mistake to say we know who is behind this. Jason—Ric’s been in Port Charles for most of the last year,” she told him. “He didn’t come after you personally in Cairo. Which means he sent someone. This is bigger than Ric. He’s part of it—I’m sure of that. I just—I just want to find our daughter.”

She looked at Steven. “I know contacting Spinelli might make us vulnerable, but I also know if anyone can find Sam, it’ll be him. I think it’s worth it.”

Steven pressed his lips together, then nodded. “Okay. It’s your call.”

“Call him,” Elizabeth told Jason. “Because I think if we find Sam, we might get closer to an answer. She has to know she has our daughter. Otherwise, why move? Why not stay in Port Charles? She’s running.”

Jason nodded, then texted Spinelli to call him on a secure line. As he finished sending the message, Elizabeth’s phone buzzed. She frowned, pulled it out of her pocket, and her face paled.

“It’s Ric.”

“Don’t answer it,” Steven snapped.

“I don’t think I have a choice.” Elizabeth pressed the speaker phone. “Ric.”

“Hello, Beautiful.”

Her skin crawled at his use of the endearment. “What do you want?”

“I hear you’ve had quite a day today. I thought maybe we could discuss a deal.”

“A deal?” she repeated. What a strange thing to say—

“I have something—well, someone—you want. And you have someone I want.”

Elizabeth frowned, looked at Jason. Did he want Jason? “I don’t understand.”

“It’s simple. I’ll tell you where Lily is if you come to see me. Alone.”

July 31, 2020

This entry is part 14 of 20 in the Flash Fiction: Desperate Measures

Written in 20 minutes. No type for typos.

Spinelli took a step back from Sam, trying very hard not to look more worried than he actually was. So what if Sam had killed Franco? Franco had needed killing, and Jason had been trying for nearly a decade — but there was something in the look in her eyes that made Spinelli very uncomfortable.

“Uh, okay, well, then I’m glad I know—” Spinelli flashed her a smile he hoped looked casual. “I’ll just be—” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll just be going.”

Sam narrowed her eyes, walked towards him. “Going where?”

“Uh.” Spinelli pursed his lips. “To Portland. To, uh, Ellie and Georgie. My family. They need me, and I’m really getting too old for this crap—”

Sam folded her arms. “You know I did the right thing. Elizabeth will go to jail like she should have for what she did to me, and Jason will get Jake. That’s the right thing. Then Jason and I can pretend none of this ever happened.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Spinelli said slowly, though he wasn’t entirely sure that Elizabeth’s sins against Sam warranted such a drastic revenge considering Elizabeth had largely let Sam get away with all her shenanigans.

Either way, Spinelli very much wanted to make sure that he didn’t give Sam a reason to think that he did not agree with her. Because if he could just…get out of here, he could tell someone who could fix this.

Because this was not a Sam that he knew how to reason with.

“You agree that she deserves it for lying about Jason, don’t you?” Sam demanded. “For trying to steal him from me again?”

Not the time to mention that Elizabeth had actually been lying about Drew — Spinelli just nodded. “Uh, yeah. I mean, we were all mad about it, right? So…this is fair.”

Sam stepped away from the door, studied him for a long moment, then shook her head. “I don’t believe you.”

“Uh, listen—”

She walked over to the nightstand and Spinelli tried to inch towards the door. No quick movements, no fast talking — he slid his phone out of his pocket, behind his back, navigated to his emergency contact lists and hit a random number, hoping it would be Jason because, man, Ellie would not know how to deal with any of this crap in Portland—

“I need to make sure no one knows it was me,” Sam said as she turned back to him, a gun in her hand. Aimed at him.

Damn it.

—

“I can’t just sit here and wait for Spinelli to find something,” Cam said as he got off the sofa and started to pace. “He’s not returning calls—his phone tracker is off—”

Elizabeth pressed her hand to her eyes. She just wanted to go back to the world she’d gone to sleep in — with nothing more than regrets about a bad boyfriend in her thoughts — not this elaborate revenge plot that had put her boys in the middle of it, shoved her past with Sam into the forefront—

She was exhausted by life right now, and the fact that any hope rested on one Damien Spinelli did not give her any optimism.

There was a sharp knock at the door. Diane frowned at it, walked over to it, and opened it, narrowing her eyes at Chase.

“I’m not happy about this either,” the beleaguered cop snapped.

“You’re not taking my son—” Elizabeth stepped in front of Cameron.

“Cameron?” Drew said, looking back and forth between the cop and Cameron whose face had paled. “Why the hell—”

“I’m here because we got DNA results back for blood under Franco’s nails,” Chase told them. He looked at Elizabeth. “It’s a match. For you.”

“For me?” Elizabeth shook her head, looked at her hands, at her arms— “I don’t have any scratches on me—”

“Circumstantial,” Diane sniffed. “They used to be in relationship—”

“No,” Elizabeth snapped at the redhead who scowled at her. “You’re not going to explain this away by suggesting I scratched him during sex. We broke up a month ago. I am not going to lie and say anything differently—” Her throat closed, her stomach pitched.

“Mom—” Cameron put a hand on her shoulder as Jason and Drew both started towards her. The teenager halted them both with a hot look. “Mom, he was trying to hurt you last night. Is it—” He cleared his throat as she looked at him blindly. “We know you didn’t kill him. But maybe—before I got there—it was worse than you thought—”

“Cameron,” Diane hissed. “Don’t—”

“Shut up!” Cameron threw at her. “My mom didn’t kill him! I didn’t kill him! I’m tired of all of this—tired of being protected—I’m not a kid anymore!”

“He didn’t,” Elizabeth managed. She squeezed her eyes. “He didn’t—” She exhaled slowly. “He tried—but he didn’t.”

“If I could?” Chase suggested with a mixture of irritation and discomfort. “I didn’t see any evidence of injuries last night that would have drawn blood the way you’d need to in order get these results.” He hesitated. “We found a pool of blood in the living room. The results aren’t back, but it looks smeared.”

“Someone dragged his hands through her blood?” Drew made a face. “Christ.”

“It’s time to stop protecting each other, Mom.” Cameron found his mother’s eyes. “We were victims. And if Chase thinks someone else was there, we should tell him who it might be.”

Chase lifted his brows. “We’re still working the scene. We might find more evidence to support a third party, but yeah, I’m thinking someone else had to be there. No other way to explain the timeline. Who was it?”

Drew exchanged an uncomfortable look with Jason, started to open his mouth, but his brother got there first.

“We think it was Sam.”

Before Chase could process that, Jason’s phone rang. “It’s Spinelli—” He answered it, putting it on speaker. “Spinelli—”

“Hey—listen, put away the gun, and we’ll talk about it—” Spinelli’s tinned voice echoed in the silence.

“No! There’s no talking!” The shriek was unmistakeable. Then a gunshot rang out over line, and they heard a phone hit the ground.

“What—” Sam’s voice was closer as she came towards the phone. “Is—did you try to call Jason—damn it—” Then the phone clicked off.

July 30, 2020

This entry is part 9 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Darkest Before the Dawn

Written in 20 minutes. No time for rereads or typos.

Elizabeth handed Patrick a chart with a wrinkle of her nose as she watched one the nursing students drop a huge stack of charts by the vending machine. “I’m trying to remember if I was that bad when I started.”

Patrick frowned, followed her eyes, then shrugged as he looked back at the computer. “Probably. You’re not much better now.”

She narrowed her eyes, then whacked his arm. “You’re a jackass.”

“It comes naturally.” Patrick scowled at the chart in his hand. “Did you take handwriting class from Satan or something? I can’t read this—”

“You’re just getting old,” she muttered, snatching it back from him and read out the medication dosage. “Why are you in such a cranky mood today?”

“Because the world is stupid and I’m tired of it—” Patrick exhaled sharply. “I went downstairs this morning.”

“Downstairs—” She sighed. “To the lab?”

“Yeah. I haven’t been down there in months, and I wanted to avoid it—I usually do. That’s why that weird lab tech is always up here.” Patrick gestured at Brad who had just left the elevator. “They gave her station to him.”

Elizabeth looked at Brad, who looked at her at the same time. His eyes got wide and he immediately turned and sprinted away. She squinted. “He keeps running from me,” she murmured.

“Who does?” her brother asked as he walked up to the hub, set down one chart and picked out another from the tray. “What’s wrong?”

“Brad Cooper, the weird lab tech,” Elizabeth said. She looked at Patrick. “I mean, isn’t he always running from me? What did I ever do to him?”

“Maybe he was running from me,” Patrick said. “I was a little…irritated when I saw he’d moved into Robin’s station.”

Steven hesitated. “I should have warned you, man—”

“No, it’s fine—”

“I don’t think it’s you,” Elizabeth insisted. “He’s been weird around me for, like, months.” She wiggled her shoulders. “Since the water thing—” Then her pen dropped from her fingers.

She could almost pinpoint the day his strange behavior had begun—the day he’d delivered those test results to her.

Sam’s test results.

“Well, maybe that’s it,” Steven suggested. “Everyone’s been a little weird since then—” He tipped his head to the side. “You okay, Bits? You look weird.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth blinked a few times, then focused on her brother. “I’m, uh, fine. I was just, um, thinking about Thanksgiving. You said Mom and Dad are going to Sarah’s this year. Are you coming to the house? Patrick and Emma are coming.”

“That depends,” Steven told her with a lift of his brows. “Is Jason going to be there?”

Elizabeth pursed her lips. “You mean one of my best friends and whom I’m currently dating? Yes. He will be there. You’re not going to do this again, are you? I didn’t want to hear it on my birthday, I don’t want it now—”

“Well, you love to make the same mistakes over and over again, it’s not my fault that I means I have to—” Steven scowled, looked at Patrick. “Come on, man. You were around for her first round with him. Can’t you talk sense into her?”

“He is not in charge of me—”

“Uh, point of correction—” Patrick put up his finger. “None of us were around for that first round. No one knew it was happening.”

“That—” Elizabeth glared at him. “One, that’s not the point. And Two, not helping!”

“Also,” Patrick continued, giving Elizabeth an eye roll before looking at Steven. “You weren’t around for any of that either. You wanted her to give Lucky another chance which really made me want to punch you.”

“That—” Elizabeth stabbed a finger at her brother. “That is an excellent point!”

“Fine. You be an idiot. I’ll talk to Liv and see if she wants to come, but I think we might be invited to Dante and Lulu’s—”

“Son of a criminal by the way!” Elizabeth called as her brother walked away. “Honestly,” she muttered. She saw Brad step on the elevator. “Hey, Brad!”

He looked at her, and almost in a cartoon manner, started pressing the button faster. Elizabeth scowled, and started over to him — but he was able to get on the elevator before she could reach him.

“Sorry! Send an email!” Brad said as the doors closed.

“This is…not good,” Elizabeeth decided as Patrick stepped up behind her. “I told you it’s me he’s avoiding.”

“Yeah, but why?”

“I—” she sighed. “I have a bad feeling I know why, but I need to check something out first.”

“All right, but if you get arrested, make sure to give me a heads up in case you need bail,” Patrick sighed as they returned to the hub.

——

That night, Jason came over for dinner as he did most nights now, and after Cameron had finished his math homework (with a lot of grumbling and complaining), he decided this was a good time to teach Jason how to play video games.

“Okay, so you press this button—” Cameron said, pointing at something on the controller. “Then this one—”

“Uh huh,” Jason said, looking at it skeptically. “I’m going to be bad at this,” he warned.

“That’s okay.” Cameron pressed play, and sat next to him. “I like to win, anyway. Why do you think I want you to play me? Patrick and Uncle Steven always kick my butt.”

Elizabeth ignored them, reaching for her phone when it lit up with a message.

Happy to help! What do you need?

She bit her lip, looked at her son and Jason playing video games as Aiden cackled in the background—because it turned out Jason wasn’t too bad at the game after all and had already beaten Cameron in the first round of Mario Kart.

She should leave this alone. She’d done what she was supposed to do and had no reason to believe the results had been faked.

But then Elizabeth sighed. She’d never be able to live with herself if she didn’t find out for sure.

Can you get into test results at the hospital?

A few minutes later, Spinelli replied. Yeah, but why?

Because I think someone lied to me, and we need to fix this.

July 29, 2020

This entry is part 16 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: An Everlasting Love

Written in 20 minutes. No time for rereading.

Elizabeth hadn’t planned to return to Diamond Springs — ever — but when she’d received the telegram from Jason about Ric’s sentence, she’d asked Patrick to follow up and find out when the execution was planned.

Part of her felt uneasy at the idea that Ric would executed for what he’d done—but there was also a part of her that thought that some people were too evil for the world. If Ric were still alive, maybe he’d find a way to do this again one day. Elizabeth didn’t want to feel like she had any more blood on her hands—not after what had happened to the Lewis family for simply trying to help.

When Patrick had given her the execution date, Elizabeth found herself buying a train ticket and arranging for his wife, Robin, to look after Cameron for a few days. She still wasn’t sure why she was going back until she saw Jason and his grandmother step out of the jail.

He looked at her, blankly, almost in shock as she approached him. Elizabeth frowned when she saw Lila hand something back to him, then walk away. “Is that your badge?” she asked as she reached him.

Jason exhaled slowly, looked down at his hand. “Yeah. Today is my last day.” He rubbed his finger over the gold star. “You—” He looked up, met her eyes. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here. Not today.”

“I wonder if part of me just couldn’t believe it would really be over. I saw the telegram, and Patrick brought back some newspapers, but…” Elizabeth turned to look at the gallows, at the noose that hung from the strip of wood. “There was no other ending, was there?” she murmured. “Once he was charged with theft.”

“No,” Jason said. “But—”

“He’d only hurt someone else one day,” Elizabeth cut in. “I know that’s true. But I suppose after Alexander and his brother, after my grandfather, Cameron, even my father for all his faults—” She sighed. “There’s been enough death.”

“I’m sorry—”

“No, don’t—” Elizabeth touched his arm—just a brush of her fingertips against his sleeve. “He knew the penalty for theft as much as anyone else. He simply never thought he’d get caught.”

“Do you want to—Are you sure you want to watch?” Jason asked. He grimaced as he saw his cousin leading the sullen Ric towards the gallows where the judge and the executioner were standing. Dillon’s face also looked pasty and pale.

“No, I think—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Can we go somewhere? Or do you have to—”

“They won’t notice if I’m not here.” Jason took her arm and they turned their back on Ric Lansing to walk across the street to the house where Jason rented a room. His landlady would normally not countenance an bachelor escorting a woman to his rooms, but Faith Roscoe had never turned down the chance to go to a public execution.

When he opened the front door, he heard the trapdoor across the street drop down and he closed the door—not even looking to see what happened to Ric.

Elizabeth pressed a hand to her stomach as the crowd’s cheers rose. “I’ll never understand it,” she murmured. Jason agreed and led her upstairs to his rooms.

“If you didn’t come back for the execution,” Jason asked, “then why—”

“You’re leaving your job,” Elizabeth interrupted. She licked her lips. “Where are you going? Back to the marshals service?”

“Maybe.” Jason took her hand in his. “I was actually planning to go to San Francisco first. To see you.” He searched her eyes. “I want a chance.”

“I—I came back to see you. To see if there was a way—” She swallowed hard. “I don’t want to spend my life running away. I still don’t know if I can live here, in town, but I don’t want to look back one day and regret—”

He tipped her chin up and kissed her. After a moment, Elizabeth slid her arms around his neck and kissed him back. He drew back slightly, brushed his fingers over her cheek. “I love you.”

Elizabeth smiled, kissed him again. “I love you, too.”

——

Three Years Later

Elizabeth laughed as her son picked himself up from the mud puddle and brushed at his trousers. “Mama!” Cameron said with a glare. “You said you wouldn’t laugh.”

“I didn’t say any such thing, Cam.” She opened the gate to the paddock, the reins of her horse in her hand as she led Penny inside. “I told you to slow down and not to run when we’ve had all that rain—”

Cameron stomped his foot. “I’m gonna tell Papa—”

“Tell Papa what?”

Elizabeth turned, her smile broadening as her husband strode towards her, their two-year-old son in his arms. “Oh, you’re just in time! I’m putting Cameron on Rusty for the first time.” She nodded at the pony tied to the post.

“I’m glad I’m didn’t miss it.” Jason stopped just outside the gate and leaned over to kiss her. “We just came back from seeing Grandma Lila.”

“Candy!” Jake proclaimed with a grin. He had his father’s sunny blonde hair and his mother’s bright smile.

“I can see the chocolate,” Elizabeth said. She looked at Jason again, her own smile matching his. “She can’t help herself.”

“Mama, I wanna ride!”

“Better go help him,” Jason said, “or he’ll skip Rusty and move on to Penny—”

“He wouldn’t—” Elizabeth whirled around just as Cameron stopped, his hands dropping from Penny’s reins. He turned an innocent grin towards his mother. “Cameron Hardy Lewis—”

“Fine,” Cameron said with a huff as he stomped back towards the smaller pony.

“That boy will be the death of me,” Elizabeth muttered as Jason laughed. “And don’t start. I know he’s exactly like I was at that age.”

“As long as you know it.” Jason leaned over to kiss her. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

July 28, 2020

This entry is part 15 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: An Everlasting Love

Written in 20 minutes. No time for rereading.

Two days after the town of Diamond Springs lined up outside of the jail, Jason walked back to the cells, keys in hand.

Ric looked disheveled—his shirt was wrinkled and dirty, stubble on his face. He scowled, rising off the thin cot in the corner. “It’s about damned time you let me out! I’ll have your job for this—”

“No need,” Jason said simply. He unlocked the cell. “I’ve already submitted my resignation. Circuit judge is out front, waiting for you.”

Ric narrowed his eyes as he walked towards Jason who slapped a pair of handcuffs on his wrists. “Who’s the judge?”

“No one you know,” Jason told him. He grabbed his upper arm and shoved him towards the front of the jail. “You’ve been charged with sixteen counts of forgery and twelve counts of extortion. You know what that means if convicted, don’t you?”

Ric’s face paled as he turned to look at Jason. “Extortion—”

“Same sentence as stealing a horse, and out here, that’s still hanging offense.”

“No—”

“Did you really think that no one was ever going to stop you? You stole people’s homes, their life savings—”

Jason steered the banker into the room where the judge held his hearings when he came to town once a month. “And now it’s time to pay.”

—

He sent a telegram to Elizabeth as soon as the judge passed sentence on Ric—with the testimony of the people in town, the documents that he and Dillon had unearthed from the bank, including the mortgage foreclosure papers he’d prepared for the Webber ranch—

It had only taken the judge twenty minutes to convict Ric and sentence him to hang. Ric’s face had turned a ghastly white—he’d never expected anyone to come for him—to turn on him. But as his grandmother had told him—sometimes it just took one person to stand up and say no.

Elizabeth had responded to his telegram with a brief message — simply Thank You. He didn’t know how to take it—how to interpret it. She’d boarded that train with her son, and now he wondered if she really had meant that night to be one last memory—if she’d really intended it to be a goodbye.

“I am deeply unhappy to learn you won’t take back the resignation,” Lila declared as she swept into the jail the day Ric was due to be executed. “Clearly, we have a need of you here—”

“Grandmother.” Jason got to his feet. “I came home to take care of you, but to be honest, once I got here—” He looked around. “I’m not sure this is where I’m supposed to be.”

“Nonsense. Who is going to do this job as well as you? Barely two months back home and you’ve already freed this town from the clutches of that dreadful man.” Lila sniffed. “I won’t hear of it.”

Jason shook his head, walked over to the post and took down his hat. “Elizabeth can’t live here anymore,” he said quietly. He met his grandmother’s eyes. “She made that clear before she left. She knows the ranch is hers again, free and clear. Patrick is coming back to arrange a sale. She’s not coming back.”

“I can understand why she would be reluctant to stay, but surely, you could speak some sense into her. If she doesn’t want the ranch, why, you’ll inherit my home here in town—”

“I can’t ask her to come back, so I’ll go to her.” Jason put on the hat. “If you’ll excuse me, Grandmother, I have to attend the execution.”

“I do wish we didn’t have these in public,” Lila grumbled as she followed him out of the jail. She wrinkled her nose at the lot next door where the gallows had been erected. “Such things should be done in private.”

“Well, you try to tell this crowd that they don’t get to see Lansing swing from the rope.” Jason looked at the crowd already gathered. It didn’t sit well with him—he’d never been a fan of sentencing a man to death for anything less than murder — but maybe Lansing deserved it nonetheless for what he’d done to the Lewis family. Alexander and Peter would likely still be alive if Ric hadn’t stolen their inheritance.

“How soon will you go to San Francisco?” Lila asked.

“This is my last official duty.” Jason unpinned the badge, handed it to her. “I’ll be boarding the train tomorrow morning—”

Lila sighed. “Well, if I can’t talk you out of it—”

“You can’t—” Jason started to walk over to the lot, then stopped as someone stepped out of the crowd, towards him. He stared at her for a long moment. “Elizabeth.”

“Well, perhaps you may need this after all—” Lila took his hand and put the badge in it, then walked away as Elizabeth approached.

July 27, 2020

This entry is part 14 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: An Everlasting Love

Written in 20 minutes. No time for rereading.

Elizabeth stirred, feeling the bed beneath her sink and shift slightly. She opened her eyes, then rolled over to find Jason pulling on his clothes. She blinked blearily, then smiled lazily for a moment—

Then remembered. The smile faded, and she slowly sat up, holding the coverlet to her chest, watching Jason fasten the buttons on his pants, then tug his shirt over his bare chest. “Is it dawn?”

Jason nodded with a regretful smile. He slid the curtain away from the window a bit and Elizabeth could see the gray light creeping over the horizon in the distance. He rounded the bed and sat on the edge of it to lean forward and kiss her softly. She wrapped her arms around his neck to hold him there—

SHe wanted to stay in this moment, live here forever—pretend that this could be her life, her future—

“I didn’t want anyone to see my horse,” he murmured against her lips. Jason pulled back slightly, dancing his fingers over her temple. “Unless…” he tipped his head to the side, searched her eyes. “Stay,” he said. “Last night…Elizabeth—”

“Part of me wants to,” she admitted. “But I just—” Elizabeth bit her lip, touched his lips. “I want to, but I can’t live here—with all these memories. I stayed because I was terrified of what Ric might try if I left.” She sighed. “Until he tried to take my son, and I realized there was a line. There was a limit. I’d run forever if it meant Cameron was safe.”

Jason dipped his head, then nodded and stood, starting to button his shirt again. Elizabeth winced, slid her legs onto the floor, her toes brushing the cold hardwood. “Jason. I know you think this will work. I want it to work. I want Ric to pay—”

“But you can’t trust it.”

“I can’t.” Elizabeth’s throat tightened. “I don’t want to have the same argument again. Please. I—”

“You have no reason to trust me. To trust anyone,” Jason told her. He pulled her to her feet, framed her face in his hands and kissed her again. “And maybe you’re right—maybe this won’t work. You need to make sure you’re safe—that Cameron is safe. So go to San Francisco.”
‘
Elizabeth closed her eyes, let her head fall against his chest as he held her in his arms. “Will you—will you send me word? Tell me what happens?”

“Yeah. I will.” He kissed her one more time. “I’m not giving up on us yet,” he told her softly. “But I understand why you are.”

Elizabeth’s lips curved into a smile as she tightened the coverlet around her bare body. “Clearly, I didn’t give up after everything else that happened. So—maybe I’m not giving up either. I’m…just taking a break.”

“I promise that I will find a way to make this right and give us the chance we deserve,” he told her — then went to the door and left.

—

Jason didn’t go to his rooms after leaving the ranch — he knew he wouldn’t be able to find any more sleep, not after spending a few hours in the bed of the woman he’d loved all his life.

He’d let her down in so many wany ways — he wasn’t going to let anything come between them again.

When the clock on the court house rang that morning at eight, Jason was in the jail, pouring over documents that they’d taken from the bank after the arrest, looking for the evidence he knew the circuit judge was going to need.

Then he heard the train—the whine of the locomotive as it pulled out of the station on the other side of town—

He knew Elizabeth and Cameron were on board—he knew she wouldn’t change her mind at the last minute, so it was important to make sure this counted—

That Ric Lansing paid for everything he’d ever stolen from Elizabeth and anyone else.

“Hey, Jase—” Dillon came in, shoved his hat up his head. “Something very strange is happening outside.”

Jason blinked, then got to his feet. He walked over to his cousin, then stepped out of the building onto the sidewalk. There was a crowd lining up down Main Street, and first line — his grandmother.

Lila lifted her chin, met his eyes. “I heard that you’ve arrested that scoundrel.”

“I did—” Jason blinked, looked down the line to see Lucas Jones, his aunt Felicia, and some of the bank tellers—twenty or thirty more people behind them. “What is this? Did he threaten you?”

“Yes. And that’s why I came. I paid a few visits after I received word yesterday.” Lila leaned heavily on her cane. “I thought I was the only person Ric Lansing terrorized, blackmailed, but I wasn’t.”

Jason frowned, looked at the line again. “Are all of these people—”

“We’ve all been scared,” Felicia Jones murmured. “He threatened to take my home—”

“He threatened to take my mother’s store,” Lucas reported.

“I wasn’t strong enough when you needed me to be,” Lila told Jason. “And I think that I helped Ric take something very precious from you. I don’t want to help him anymore.”

“But—but why now?” Jason shook his head. “Why didn’t anyone say anything before?”

“We all thought we were the only ones,” Felicia admitted. She folded her arms. “But we’re not.”

“Sometimes, dearest,” Lila said, touching his arm. “It just takes one person to stand up first.”

July 21, 2020

This entry is part 13 of 20 in the Flash Fiction: Desperate Measures

Written in 20 minutes. No time for typos or edits. I mean it. I do not reread this before I post them, and I am aware there are errors. Please assume I have basic spelling comprehension and know how to reread and revise. Thank you. I can’t write almost 1000 words in 20 minutes if I worry about spelling or typos.

When Jason and Elizabeth went into the living room, they found that Diane and Cameron had let Drew into the apartment. He immediately strode over to Elizabeth and wrapped her in a tight hug.

“Hey. I’m sorry I didn’t come by earlier—I didn’t—the PCPD wouldn’t tell me if you’d made bail—”

Elizabeth hugged him back briefly, then stepped back. She couldn’t forget that this was another man who had chosen Sam, who had protected her, She folded her arms, stepping gingerly away from the brothers, looking over at Cam. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Diane and I worked out a statement in case the PCPD gets a material witness order.” Cam flicked his eyes at his lawyer. “And she works for me now.”

“I should be able to buy a very nice pair of discount sneakers…on clearance,” Diane said dryly. She cleared her throat, looked at Elizabeth. “I’m…sorry…if what happened before gave you reason not to trust me. But—”

“It’s—” Elizabeth bit her lip, looked at Jason for a moment, before returning her attention to the redhead. “It’s fine. It’s just been a lot today.” She looked at Drew. “What are you doing here?”

“I—” Drew hesitated. “I’ve been trying to find Sam. I believe you—” he told Jason quickly who had furrowed his brow. “I—I hate that I do, but with what happened last year—” He looked Diane. “It could be her.”

“It is her,” Jason said flatly. “Elizabeth remembered seeing her there.”

Drew closed his eyes, absorbed the hit, and nodded. “Okay. Okay.” He dragged his hands through his hair, then down his face. “Okay. I tried to find her, but she’s not returning her calls. Alexis hasn’t heard her—”

“Spinelli is tracking her down,” Jason said. He folded his arms, then frowned. “What happened last year?”

“Sam got sick,” Elizabeth said softly. “After Scout was born, she was really sick. And she had some sort of—” She hesitated, looked at Drew. “What did Finn say? A kind of psychotic break?”

“Toxoplasmosis,” Drew clarified. “She—she tried to kill Sonny.” His smile was grim. “I ended up shot and nearly died. It was…she’s okay. She recovered—at least that’s what the doctors told her—”

“That’s what she said the doctors told her,” Diane pointed out. She folded her arms. “The PCPD dropped charges—they didn’t mandate reports from the doctors, so unless you spoke to Finn directly…?” she trailed off and Drew shook his head.

“No. I never—I took her word for it. I—” He looked at Elizabeth. “I thought she’d recovered, but maybe—maybe it explains it. I mean—I know she’s done terrible things, Elizabeth, but this—this is different.”

“Is it?” Elizabeth asked numbly. “You have no idea.” She closed her eyes. Maybe it was easier for Drew to believe that Sam was sick. Maybe he was right.

“Mom?” Cameron asked quietly. “What’s wrong? Why—what are they talking about? I know—I know Sam was part of what happened when the house caught on fire—she shouldn’t have been following Jake around—”

“Following Jake?” Jason said, sharply. “What?”

“She thought he was—she thought he was in trouble,” Drew said, almost faintly as if it sounded as ridiculous now as it had then.

“He got hit by a car—again—running away from her,” Elizabeth told Jason. “She came into my home, accused him of doing things that would make Drew want to come back. He got scared, and she fell down the stairs. He ran away and nearly died. Again.”

Jason exhaled slowly. “I—I didn’t know.”

“You wouldn’t. We don’t talk about Sam’s crimes very often.” Elizabeth flicked her eyes to Drew who couldn’t meet her gaze. “Somehow when she does it, there’s an explanation. A justification.”

“Elizabeth—”

“Mom—”

“Do you remember when Jake was kidnapped—the first time?” Elizabeth asked Cameron. “You were young. He had just been born.”

“Yeah.” Cameron rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. Everyone was crying a lot, but Jason found him. Brought him home.” He managed a faint smile. “I remember that.” His eyes widened. “Wait. Did—”

“Sam watched Maureen Harper take my child out of the stroller and walk away from him,” Elizabeth told her son. “Then she refused to let me and Lucky go on her show to beg for him back. She came over to my house — knowing where my baby was, knowing he was Jason’s son — and told me we were the same. We’d both lost a child. She never told the truth, by the way.”

“She would—” Drew trailed off, looked at Jason. “She would have—”

“No.” Jason met Elizabeth’s eyes. “No. She probably wouldn’t have.” He cleared his throat. “You never told me she came to the house.”

She raised a brow. “If I had, would you still have forgiven her? Married her?”

“I don’t understand,” Cameron said, holding up his hands. “I don’t—Sam basically kidnapped my little brother.” He turned his eyes on Drew and Jason, who both had the memory. “She has tormented my mother since Jake was born — I know that. I’ve been there for that. She made sure that Drew left Mom and enjoyed it, by the way,” he added sarcastically, “and you’re telling me—that you still—you both still—” He looked at his mother. “I don’t understand.”

“That makes two of us.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “But as I am often reminded by everyone, I am not entirely innocent. So let’s put all that away. Sam hates me and has for years. I can understand if she’s sick again that it might have escalated like this. So—” she faced the brothers who were both extremely uncomfortable. “Did Spinelli find her?”

“He hasn’t called yet,” Drew said, looking at Jason. “Did he call you?”

“No.” Jason took out his cell phone. “I’ll check in with him again.

—

Spinelli had found Sam, but he hadn’t told either Drew or Jason. He wanted to help—he wanted to fix things. He was sure it was all a giant mistake.

He knew Sam—he knew she wouldn’t do something so awful to Elizabeth and her children. Jason and Drew—they were wrong.

So he went by himself to the motel where he’d tracked down one of her aliases and knocked on the door. “Sam? It’s Spinelli.”

Sam answered the door a moment later, then stepped back. “Spinelli, come on in.”

A bit unnerved at the welcome, at the empty expression on her face, Spinelli gingerly stepped past her, into the rundown room. He looked around that water stained walls, the cracked drywall. “Sam, what are you doing here? No one—your kids—they haven’t heard from you.”

“They’re safe,” Sam said, closing the door. She turned to face him. “I had to make sure they stayed safe.”

Spinelli swallowed hard, searched her eyes, looking for some hint, some trace of the woman he’d considered a member of his family for so long. “Have you heard the news? What happened to Franco? And Elizabeth? At her house last night.”

“Yes. I know what happened.” Sam’s lips curved into a smile. “It’s about time someone ended his existence, don’t you think?”

“Uh. Yeah. Sure. But, uh, don’t you—I mean, Elizabeth was hurt—attacked,” Spinelli told her. “And she’s been charged with his murder—”

“I saw that.” Sam leaned against the door, her smile deepening. “Karma, ain’t it a bitch?”

Spinelli blinked, then shook his head again. “No—”

“She protected a rapist for years.” Sam shrugged a shoulder. “And now she’s paying for it. People generally get what they deserve, Spinelli. And she deserves this.”

July 20, 2020

This entry is part 13 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: An Everlasting Love

Written in 20 minutes.

The arrest of Ric Lansing by the still relatively new sheriff spread through Diamond Springs like wildfire, even to the ranches outside of the town proper. Patrick had brought the news to Elizabeth himself when he’d come out to take a look at the horses whose sale he was arranging on Elizabeth’s behalf.

Elizabeth had been stunned that Jason had not only meant it when he said he was taking on Ric directly, but that he’d followed through. She was sure the charges wouldn’t stick — Ric had stolen enough money over the years to keep him out of trouble—but no one had stood up to Ric like that before. She’d tried to report him — had tried to talk the previous sheriff into helping her and Cameron — but no one had believed her.

Jason had.

She wondered if Jason had planned to arrest Ric that day or if he had done so more quickly because she was leaving in the morning. She wondered if he’d come to see her, if he’d try to stop her again.

And believing he might, Elizabeth waved Gail Baldwin goodbye one last night as her son picked up for the ride back to town, tucked Cameron in tight for his last night in his room, then went to sit on her porch.

The moon was high over her head, after midnight when she caught sight of his horse in the distance. When Jason tied up the reins, Elizabeth stood and walked into the pool of moonlight. He blinked at her, then took a deep breath.

“You’re…awake.” He stepped onto the first step as she stood at the top of the staircase.

“I thought you might come.” She stepped down one step, then arched a brow. “What were you planning to do if I wasn’t?”

“Sit there.” Jason nodded at the bench. “Until morning. To stop you from leaving. I arrested Ric—”

“Patrick told me.”

They met on the middle step, but he didn’t touch her. Didn’t reach out to take her hand. She could only dimly see him in the moonlight.

“He’ll bribe someone,” Elizabeth told him, but she smiled faintly. “But he’ll spend a day or two in jail. That—that brings me more joy than it ought to—”

“He won’t buy himself out of this,” Jason insisted with a shake of his head. “He already tried to contact someone—but he didn’t remember something important.”

Elizabeth frowned, tried to search his gaze, but she couldn’t in the dark. “What?”

“My family—your family—the Lewises—they’ve been here longer. You remember Jimmy?”

“Jimmy? Your cousin?” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “Not really. He only visited a few times from San Francisco—”

“He’s a politician. And he remembers Dr. Lewis. And your grandparents. He also—” Jason exhaled slowly. “He was one of Ric’s victims. In exchange for political favors, Jimmy got to keep his house.”

“Then—”

“When he realized I could arrest Ric, he contacted two others in the legislature who had been exhorted by Ric. Ric played too many games. Went after too many people. He got greedy.” Jason reached for her hand. “They were just waiting for someone to stop him.”

Her lips trembled as she took that in, then she closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. I wish I could—I know you believe it. I know you’re not lying to me, but I—”

“You’ve lost too much,” Jason finished. “I know. And no one else in this town stood up to Ric. You still plan to leave.” He rubbed his thumb over her palm. “I know.”

“I thought it would be enough to save the ranch,” Elizabeth admitted, “but I can’t. It’s not. Every where I look, I see something he destroyed. I want to start over. I want something new. I just—” She touched his jaw. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he told her, roughly. “It’s not enough to fix it now. I should have came home when you didn’t answer the telegrams. I should have done more a long time ago.” He stepped closer to her, their bodies just brushing. “I should have taken you with me.”

Elizabeth bowed her head, her forehead leaning against his chest. “But I wouldn’t have my son. I can’t think about what ifs, Jason. I don’t have that luxury.”

“So we won’t talk about before anymore.” Jason tipped her head up, resting his fingers under her chin. “I know you have to leave tomorrow. I came here to tell you I understood. That it won’t stop me from making sure Ric pays, but that I—I think you deserve more. You deserve that new start.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. He caught a tear with his thumb, then brushed it away. “But that’s tomorrow. There’s—” She cleared her throat, then licked her lips as their eyes met, somehow connected in the darkness and shadows. “There’s still tonight.”

They were standing so close that she felt his breathing change—the way his chest moved against hers. “Are you—Do you mean—”

“I just—I want a memory with you,” she told him.” Elizabeth leaned up to brush his lips against his. Once, then twice—and on the third time, Jason crushed her against him. “Cameron’s asleep, but his room is in the back of the house,” she told him when they parted, their breathing shallow and raspy. “Mine is in the front. Will you—”

He answered her with another kiss, then lifted her in his arms and started up the stairs.

July 19, 2020

This entry is part 8 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Darkest Before the Dawn

Written in 20 minutes. No time for edits.

“Cameron Hardy Webber—”

The eight-year-old dressed as Flynn Rider paused, his eyes wide, the unwrapped lollipop a centimeter from his mouth.

“I told you she’d see you,” Emma Scorpio-Drake sniffed.

Elizabeth shoved the pumpkin-clad Aiden at Jason and stalked across her living room to glare at her eldest son. Still clutching the lollipop, Cameron grinned back at her.

Behind Jason, still in the entry of the house, Patrick grimaced. “A Webber stand-off. We could be here for hours. Shove over, I need to remind my kid about rules.”

“Daddy, I told Cameron not to eat the candy before his mommy told him he could,” Emma assured her father. She fluttered her eyelashes.

“Uh huh.” Patrick, standing next to his fellow parent and comrade in arms, raised a brow. “What’s that on your face?”

“Where?”

“Corner of your mouth.”

Emma’s tongue darted out to lick the spot, and then her eyes narrowed. “It was Cameron’s idea!”

Stunned at this betrayal, Cameron whirled on his—now former—best friend. “You lie! You said we should sneak a piece!”

“And we would have gotten away with it if you hadn’t picked a Blow Pop!” Emma shot back. Her Rapunzel wig slumped foreward on her forehead. She shoved it back.

“You have chocolate all over your face—”

“Candy.”

Jason looked down at the two-year-old he held and saw that Aiden’s chubby hand was reaching for the plastic container he had on his arm—filled with Aiden’s candy. “Uh—no,” he told him. With one hand he set the container on the table and stepped down into the living room, behind the sofa.

“They always dime themselves out,” Elizabeth said as she traded a grin with Patrick. “Works every time.”

“Divide and conquer,” Patrick agreed. “God help us if they ever figure out they’re stronger together.” They shared another smile before Patrick strode over to pick up his daughter before she landed a kick to Cameron’s shins.

“Cameron, go upstairs and change and wash up. We’ll have order pizza, and then you can have some candy.”

Cameron scowled as he stomped across the living room, up the raised stair to the entry, then up the stairs, grumbling all the way about dumb girls and their stupid plans.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Patrick told Elizabeth as Emma kicked over his shoulder, railing at the injustice of taking the blame for the candy crime. “Dinner? Emma made you a card, so you can’t skip it.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you then. Bye, Emma—”

“Bye Aunt ‘Lizabeth,” Emma muttered, remembering her manners as Elizabeth closed the door behind them. She turned back to Jason.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” she asked, as she retrieved the pumpkin from his arms. Aiden pouted, pointed at the candy on the table.

“No. I, uh, don’t think I’ve been trick or treating in a while,” Jason admitted. “Joss usually goes with Jax and Carly. And Michael hasn’t gone out—” His mouth tightened slightly, remembering that Michael’s last Halloween had likely been the year before he’d been shot in the head.

“Thanks for coming, by the way,” Elizabeth said as she dropped Aiden on the sofa and started to strip him of the costume. “With three adults and three kids, it’s easier to keep an eye on them.” She exhaled slowly. “Last year, Cameron almost wandered in front of a car.”

Jason sat next to her, Aiden between them. “Hey.”

She met his eyes, smiled ruefully. “Sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay. You want me to order the pizza?” he offered, relieved that the sadness in her eyes had been fleeting.

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll get Aiden washed up, and we’ll pick a movie.” She lifted Aiden, then hesitated. “Um…do you—do you want to stay? I mean, for the movie.”

“Sure.” Jason watched her go up stairs with her son, then pulled out his phone to make the call.

—

A few hours later, Cameron had passed out in front of the television, a pile of candy wrappers in front of him, the ending credits of his favorite Halloween movie, Hocus Pocus, scrawling across the screen.

“I might just let him sleep on the floor,” Elizabeth told Jason as she reached for the last slice of pizza in the box on the coffee table. “You know…” She looked at her son again. “I read somewhere that one day, you’ll realize that you picked your kid up for the last time, and you didn’t even know it. He’s—he’ll be as tall as me in a few years.”

“I can take him up if you want,” Jason offered. Elizabeth bit her lip, looked at him. “If you want,” he repeated.

“I—” Elizabeth hesitated, set the pizza down. “This is going to sound insane,” she said. “But I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

“I won’t drop him—”

“No—” Elizabeth shook her head. “No, that’s not what I mean. I just—” She met his eyes. “I like having you around. With the boys. Tonight. I mean, Patrick and I—we’ve mostly got this single parent thing down. He’s struggling a lot, but he’s getting there. I’ve been doing it longer.” She paused. “I don’t want to depend on anyone to help me with the boys.”

She waited for him to tell her that it was just a trip up the stairs—that it wasn’t that serious—but Jason didn’t do that. He just took in her words, then nodded.

“I understand. I—” He looked at Cameron again. “I promised you once that I wanted to do that. To be with them. I thought—I thought he’d be mine,” Jason murmured, almost inaudibly. “And the last few weeks, sometimes I’ve….”

“Found yourself pretending,” Elizabeth offered when he trailed off. He managed a slightly embarassed smile.

“Yeah.”

“Me, too,” she admitted. It had been almost six weeks since that day at Sonny’s non-wedding. Since they’d brushed up against that line, and she’d run away from it.

And he was still here. Still not going back to Sam.

Was it time to stop being so scared?

“Why don’t you take him up?” Elizabeth told him. “I’ll be up in a minute to tuck him in.”

“You sure?” Jason asked as they both stood. He caught her elbow. “I don’t want to do anything that might hurt you—”

“I know.” She leaned up, their eyes met for a second before she brushed her lips across his. “But I think it’s time we stop pretending this isn’t happening, and find out if…this time…”

He tucked her hair behind her ear, leaned down to return the soft kiss. “This time, it’s different,” he promised her.

“I know,” Elizabeth said. She smiled at him, even as her stomach fluttered, even as her brain screamed at her that it never was. She was going to ignore all common sense and try—

Just one more time.