Written in 55 minutes.

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Morgan Home: Master Bedroom

Elizabeth sank down onto the mattress, her eyes wide. “Are you kidding me? Jordan’s really—” Her mouth pinched, and she looked away. “And Cameron and Trina…”

“They looked miserable about it,” Jason admitted, sitting across the room to pull of his boots. “I didn’t feel much better. I hate that he knows who I am.”

“Jason—”

“And that he had to come warn me that the police—” Jason shook his head, sat back. “I don’t want this for them. I’d get out if I could—”

“But it would mean leaving Port Charles and everyone else,” Elizabeth finished. She smiled wanly at him. “We’ve talked about it, Jason, and I’ve always accepted what you do, and I don’t think any of the boys are interested in going into the business. Sonny might have a battle with Morgan—” She sighed, moved to sit at the vanity table. “But our kids, Michael and Joss, Dante and Kristina, I think we’re safe on that score. None of us want this future for them.”

“I hate that a choice I made before I even understood what I was giving up—” Jason paused. “I didn’t care about the future. I didn’t think about having a family, kids—” He stopped. “That’s not the point of any of this,” he muttered. “I don’t know if I can add the extra guys at the hospital that we talked about.”

Elizabeth’s hands stilled as she reached to unfasten her necklace. “Jason.”

“And I can’t have anyone following Baker. Sonny called a little while ago to confirm what we suspected. Our guys at the PCPD said they’re focusing surveillance. Baker’s being watched. Not because of who he is,” Jason said, his jaw clenched, “but because they want to tie anything back to me or Sonny. And they’re watching new hires at the hospital.”

“They care more about you watching a rapist than a rapist working there,” Elizabeth said softly. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. “Laura won’t cooperate—”

“The board is going over her head. I called Monica. They get funding for this parole program Baker’s in. Anything happens to Baker on their watch, the state might pull the funding. And as far as the system is concerned—”

“He’s nothing more than a blackmailing piece of a shit who served his time.” Elizabeth exhaled slowly. “You have guards on me at the hospital. I want them on the kids.”

“Elizabeth—”

“I’m never alone,” she told him. She twisted in her seat to face him. “I’m on Patrick’s team in the OR and when I’m not with him or one of the other nurses, I’m with Epiphany and Bobbie doing paperwork. Emma, Joss, and Trina—they’re sent on errands all over the place. I’ll talk to Laura. They need a buddy system or something.”

Her hands were shaking as she tried to remove the necklace again. Jason came over behind her, brushed away her hands with his own. He handed her the chain a moment later. “Baker knows the reason he served every possible second of his sentence was because of you.”

“Because of me and Taggert,” Elizabeth said, tightly. “Taggert went to more of the hearings. What if he finds out Trina is his daughter?” She shook her head. “I’m too old for him now—”

“You have zero evidence that he has a preference,” Jason argued. “We don’t know if it was you at age sixteen or opportunity—” He grimaced as color slid from her cheeks. “I’m sorry—”

“No, you’re right. You’re right.” She rubbed a fist against her heart. “Maybe it was just the way he talked about it,” Elizabeth murmured. “He liked the hunt, and he talked about the dress I was wearing. He blackmailed Emily, remember? And we were the same age.”

“I know.”

“I just—I would never forgive myself if I had guards watching me and one of those girls got hurt. Or any of the girls in the program,” Elizabeth continued. “Thanks to the PCPD, you’re limited by just the people who are already at the hospital. I don’t want Cam to be unprotected, either. But those girls—Emma, Joss, and Trina—they’re mine, too. They’ve grown up here. They’re our babies just as much as the boys are.”

“I know,” Jason said. He put his hands on her shoulders, gently kneading them. “All right, I’ll look at what we have in place at the hospital. Get me a schedule for the program. But don’t ask me to leave you unprotected.”

“I’m not. I just—” She closed her eyes. “Ten years ago. After Manny kidnapped me, and I told you it reminded me of Baker, you asked me if I wanted you to do something about it. I should have said yes. I wanted to.” She swiped at the tears sliding down her cheek. “But I wanted it to be weak. I thought it made me stronger to walk away from him. And now it’s too late. I’ll be damned if the PCPD comes after you because of me.”

“Eventually,” Jason said, “the pressure will be off. The PCPD can’t keep up this surveillance for long. And they don’t know I’m aware of it. When it cools down, all you have to do is say the word.”

“Maybe by then I’ll have change my mind again. I guess it’s just knowing it’s off the table that’s making me feel this way.” She smiled at him in the reflection of the mirror. “I don’t want to think about Tom Baker anymore.”

“Then we won’t.”

Kelly’s: Dining Room

Emma sipped her milkshake, then pursed her lips as she watched Trina behind the counter. “The Homecoming dance.”

Cameron tore his eyes away from his Switch and frowned at her. “What? Wait. That’s not for another month, is it? Oh, man. Is it sooner?”

“No, relax, I’ll warn you,” Emma promised absently. “I’ll make sure you remember to ask me.”

“I have to ask you?” Cameron scowled. “What’s the point of dating if I still have to do that? Can’t you just assume we’re going?”

Emma looked away from Trina, then matched his scowl with one of her own. “You have to do the work, Cam! You can’t just take me for granted!”

“I kind of think that’s wrong.” Cameron shook his head. “We’re dating. We go to movies every Saturday and I don’t ask you—”

“That’s different! And this is our freshman year!” Emma was positively scandalized. “This is our first Homecoming! How can you not want to ask me?”

Sensing the trap he’d walked into, Cameron decided it time to back up. “Okay, it’s not that I don’t want to,” he said carefully. “Because, like, sure. We gotta talk logistics. You know my mom and your mom are going to spend an hour with photos, and then there’s the car—and do we go with people? You know Joss is gonna wanna go and make eyes at that new kid, and Trina—” He stopped. “Oh, man that’s what started this.”

“Don’t change the subject, Cameron Webber.” Emma was incensed as she shot to her feet. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing?”

“Listen, I am on board with this whole get Spencer and Trina thing together—”

“No, you’re not.”

“Okay, I’m not. I think Spencer is a moron and Trina can do better, but you want them together, and I don’t care enough—” Cameron hissed, sat back and folded his arms. “I’m gonna shut up. There’s no winning here.”

“You don’t think I deserve to be asked out like any other girl?” Emma demanded. “We’re not married, you know! You have to put in the work!”

“Well, what about you?” Cameron shot back. “How come I gotta do the work? Why aren’t you asking me?”

“What?”

“Yeah! How come I gotta ask you! You wanna go to the dance more than me. You should ask me!” Almost gleeful because he’d found the loophole to get him out of trouble, he was sure of it, Cameron jabbed a finger at her. “This is the twenty-first century, and women are equal, right? We split the paychecks and all that crap. You know what?” He got to his feet, folded his arms. “I’m not asking you anywhere. You wanna go to Homecoming, you gotta put in the work, too!”

Emma was positively incandescent with fury as she snatched up her coat and purse. “You don’t get it, and I’m not going to explain it to you!” She stalked out of the diner as Cameron stared after her dumbfounded.

“So, I only overheard like every other word,” Trina said, coming up to his side, “but I did get enough to know you’re a moron.”

“Ah, shut up.”

Out in the courtyard, Emma was still fuming as she headed for the bus stop. The absolute nerve of that dumb boy not to just ask her? Why was it so hard? Why did she have to do everything?

Still wrapped up in her rage, Emma ran straight into someone coming around a corner. “Oof! I’m sorry!”

Someone’s hands went to her elbows to keep Emma on her feet. “You okay, little girl?”

“Fine, fine. Sorry—” Emma looked up at who she’d run into, then frowned. The man was average height, a bit stocky. A ski cap was drawn over his head, and he wore a much thicker jacket than most people did in late September, but there was something about him — “Sorry,” she said again. “I need to watch where I’m going.”

She edged away from him, then continued down the block — stopping to take out her phone and text her parents, hoping for a ride home instead of taking the bus.

Tom watched her go, smiling as he drew out the new phone he’d picked up. What a lovely thing — the photos and videos it could take — technology was a beautiful thing. He snapped a few photos of his sweet girl as she stopped at the corner, then walked away, starting to whistle.

Robinson Home: Living Room

“Why I am not surprised?” Portia muttered, as she started to rearrange the magazines on her coffee table — a nervous habit that Taggert recognized. Portia was keeping her hands busy because she really wanted to slap him.

“I came because it was an emergency, but I’m on a case—”

“You’re always on a case.” Portia got to her feet, folding her arms. “When was the last time you spent meaningful time with Trina, huh?”

“I don’t want to—”

“A year ago, she saw you for a week. You come in for a day or two, then zip off again. She deserves more than phone calls, Marcus—”  She hissed. “And you’re leaving after I told you that Jordan Ashford is going to use this case to be the complete bitch she’s always been—”

“What am I supposed to do?” Taggert demanded. “I warned Jordan not to get wrapped up in taking down Corinthos and Morgan. She doesn’t listen to me. She never has. I was a DEA agent when you met me. You knew my schedule and you said you wanted to get married and have a family anyway. You can’t blame me—”

“I thought you’d change—” Her mouth twisted. “And if it hadn’t been for Jordan—”

“Don’t start this shit with me—”

“Well, if you didn’t want to hear about it, then you shouldn’t have had an affair—”

“I never—” Taggert growled. “You know, the nice thing about being divorced, Portia? I never have to listen to this bullshit from you again. I never touched her, but you couldn’t believe I spent all that time away from my family with another woman without sex.” His eyes burned into hers. “I always wondered if you were so sure because you were having an affair of your own.”

Portia stalked over to the door. “You can go.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice.”

General Hospital: Break Room

“Real talk,” Patrick said, setting down his coffee and sitting across from her. “You’ve been around Jason for like, two decades, right?”

“About that.” Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

“And also the Cassadines.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“What I’m thinking is between the supervillains and the gangsters—” Patrick leaned forward. “You know how to get away with a crime, don’t you?”

Elizabeth pursed her lips. “Patrick—”

“I’m just saying. I know Jason can’t do shit about this guy, but you and me—” Patrick nodded. “Yeah. I think that’s what we need to do. We’ll make him disappear, you make sure the husband has an alibi. We’re golden.”

“You’re insane,” she replied, forcing a smile on her face. “You have just as much to risk as I do. As Jason does.”

“Yeah, I know. Doesn’t change how much I want to rip off his face or hire it to be done,” he grumbled.

Her stomach rumbled, and she winced. “Oh man, I want those Doritos,” she muttered, looking at the vending machine. “I have lunch packed, but I just—”

“Cravings.” Patrick nodded sagely. He took out his wallet and flipped through it. He found three dollars — “Highway robbery what they charge us—” Then he stopped, frowning at the photos. “Hey, the one from Aiden’s party is missing.”

“The one of Emma and Robin?” Elizabeth leaned forward. “I saw you put it in there.”

“Yeah, it was in there last week.” He wrinkled his nose. “Probably fell out at home. I’m just used to seeing it when—” He handed her the money. “Go get the Doritos, Webber. I won’t be responsible for what happens if you don’t.”

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