Written in 76 minutes.

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May 2000

“Where’s your lesser half?” Luke asked, setting a bottle of Rolling Rock in front of Jason. “He too good for me?”

“Dealing with vendors at the warehouse.” Jason reached for the bottle. “He’s been doing all the paperwork down there since we opened last year—”

“Are you trying to invite the feds into the business?” Luke smirked, then poured himself a tumbler of whiskey. “You still pretending you’re just a garage mechanic?”

He wished he was just a mechanic, Jason thought, taking a long pull. “You said you had something about Moreno?”

Luke took the hint, sipped his drink. “Can’t prove anything which is why I said it could hold off a few days. People talk, they gossip, and I keep my ear to the ground. And the word is that Moreno is getting tired of the ceasefire. He’s not happy he’s been limited to just a few clubs and what’s left of the Courtland street market. It seems that he thinks you did him dirty when you sold out.”

“I—I didn’t—”

“Now, I know that, and so does everyone else. You had a kid to think about at the time, and Vega was more than happy to broker that deal to keep the bloodshed to a minimum. But you threw in with Sonny to get the territory back. Makes you look like a welsher.” Luke lifted a brow. “So don’t be surprised if when Moreno comes for you both, he’s gonna start with you and go harder.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Jason asked.

“I think I don’t know what goes on in your head these days. No one does. You and me, we used to talk. But maybe you think since you tried to murder my kid, I’m not still an ally.”

Jason hesitated, then exhaled. “If you’re looking for an apology—”

“Are you kidding? No. He’s not coming around the club anymore. I’ve told him about mouthing off to Sonny and you without a good reason. Not that Elizabeth isn’t a good reason, but somehow I doubt you schemed to break them up.”

“I don’t want to talk about this—” Jason started to shove the bottle back, preparing to leave, but Luke held out a hand.

“Then I’ll talk and you do what you do best and keep quiet. We go back, you and me, and I know the reason my kid didn’t end up freezing to death in that damned boxcar or under the docks was because you gave him a place and a job. I’m grateful for that. I don’t know what’s gotten into him. Every time I try to talk to him, he just feeds me that bullshit about Elizabeth going back to her old self, and I just—” Luke took another drink of the whiskey, his eyes troubled. “I don’t know if he hears it, you know? If he understands what he’s really saying. Because I believe him. She’s gone back to her old self. And he doesn’t like that. He didn’t like who she was before.”

Jason dropped his eyes to the green bottle, slowly the bottle back and forth in his hands. “Emily said something like that,” he admitted reluctantly.

“It messes me up to think he preferred her after. You didn’t know her then, and that’s good. You shouldn’t have that picture in your head, but I do. I can’t stop thinking about it. He brought her to back to our place that night, and I can’t—she was just shattered. Broken.” His gaze grew distant. “Nervous, twitchy. Couldn’t look anyone in the eye. Barely could talk. Barbara did what she could, but she was a mess. But then she pulled herself together. She had to. Didn’t want Audrey to know, so she had to pretend it was all normal.”

Luke rubbed his chest, troubled. “I saw her off and on over the next few months, and she fought her way back. I don’t know much about who she was before that night, but I know who she is today, and she’s special. She…” Luke hesitated, searched for the right word. “She sparkles. I stopped by that art thing she had. Barbara dragged me, and you should have seen the way she was smiling. And then my kid goes and talks about her like she’s garbage—hell.” He finished his whiskey.

“What’s your point, Luke?”

“I don’t know why Lucky’s taking it out on you—maybe because he knows he can’t say that to her face—God, I hope he’s not talking that way to her, don’t you tell me different. I’m sorry my kid threw that away. I thought I raised him better than that, but you know, maybe that was just a dream. But if there’s a chance there’s any truth to what he’s saying, if maybe you’re looking at her—”

“I’m—”

“I just hope you know how special she is.”

Jason finished his beer, got to his feet. “Yeah. I do. I tell Sonny what you said about Moreno.”

—

It had been a fantasy to think he could just quietly go back to the way it all had been before the island. That he could just put Elizabeth back into the compartment he’d labeled Emily’s friend and lock it up tight and forget any of this had happened. Even if he could, no one else seemed ready to let him. His sister was angry at him, Sonny was treating him like an idiot, Luke was trying to give him relationship advice, and Lucky was trying to speed run a broken jaw.  He’d have to resolve this situation and actually talk to Elizabeth, even if he had to do it with his hand tied behind his back.

But since he couldn’t just show up on Audrey Hardy’s doorstep and ask to see her granddaughter, he started with his sister. Though stepping foot on the Quartermaine estate wasn’t a welcome prospect either.

“I thought I felt a shift in the force,” Emily drawled, pulling open the door to the pool house, then leaning back against the frame. “I never thought I’d get you to visit me here.”

“I know three ways out of this place that never go near the house,” Jason said, shoving his hands in his jeans. “I, uh, thought we should talk.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’ve been trying to find the way to call and apologize—” Emily stepped back, and let him in. The pool house, already absurdly large, had been completely redesigned inside with a kitchen area tucked into the corner, and a living and dining area near the front. Beyond the kitchen, there was a hallway that probably led to bedrooms.

“They really went all out,” Jason said, a bit unsure how to start all of this. Architecture and interior design seemed like the safest start. “I guess they never want you to move out.”

“That’s what Mom said. Though when she found out Liz was going to rent a studio near the docks, she wished she’d put one in here.”

“The docks?” Jason echoed. “What part?”

“Van Ness. Yeah, I know, I made the same face, but Liz doesn’t listen to anyone.” Emily closed the door. “Um, speaking of Elizabeth—well, not it’s about her, but something she said to me. I talked to her about our fight. What I told you. So that you both knew and we were all on the same page.”

Jason grimaced, dragged a hand down his face. “Em—”

“Before you start talking about how you’re not talking about it, she told me I don’t get to be angry because you’re not acting the way I want you to. That you’re dealing with things on your schedule, not mine.” Emily tipped her head. “Even with you basically standing her up at the art show—”

“That’s not—”

“It’s not that far off, Jason, and you know it,” she said quietly, and he sighed. “She invited you to something that mattered, and you never told her you wouldn’t go. Everyone went, I told you that. Except you. Even with all of that, Elizabeth took your side in the whole thing, in case that matters to you.”

“Why does there have to be sides?” Jason muttered.

“Because you’re my brother and I love you. And I’m on the side of the living. And you’re over there, pretending you don’t exist. I get to want you on this side of the line. I get to root for you and my best friend to figure out whatever this is. Because I love you both, and I think you’d be lucky to have each other. I get to have that side, Jason. But, like I said, you don’t have to want the same things I want. I wouldn’t want you to do something just to make me happy.”

Jason sat on the arm of the sofa. “You were easier to please when we first met,” he muttered.

“I know, right? All you had to do was be nice to me and my day was made.” Emily hesitated. “You get to be sad, Jase, about how things unraveled.”

His head jerked up, his eyes wary. “What?”

“You were happy with Robin and Michael. You’d left all that…stuff behind, and you had the garage. You were happy,” Emily repeated. “And then it fell apart. I don’t know how much of that was Carly, but I’m sure she’s not blameless. She came home and decided she liked the life you were building, but wasn’t exactly wildly about Robin in it.”

“Em—”

“What Robin did, the way she left, the way she told the truth—maybe the petty part of me thinks you deserved it for the lie you asked her to live. But mostly I’m just sad that she felt like that she had to break what was left of your heart on the way out the door. And then Carly accused you of kidnapping, and then you gave up visitation rights—none of that was right or fair—”

“I made that situation what it was—” Jason said. He got to his feet. “I started it, I asked Robin to lie—and I tried to get out of the country with Michael when I knew he wasn’t my son—”

“Does any of that change how much you loved him?” Emily asked, and Jason sighed. “You get to be sad,” she repeated. “You get to take as long as you need to handle this. But I reserve the right to nudge you along and remember that there’s still people who care about you. There’s a still a life to be lived.”

“I—” His throat was tight, but he forced the words out. “I know I’ve pulled away a lot this year. Longer than that. And it’s—okay, it’s part of that,” he admitted. “But not just that—”

“No, it’s getting back into business with Sonny and you worrying about people around you again. I could kill Sonny sometimes, you know. Because he had no right coming home when you were out and asking you to go back.”

“Em—”

“You’re going to say it’s because you didn’t have enough else, and sure, that’s true. But now you feel like you never get to have anything in your life. Because now we’re going talk about why you’re avoiding Elizabeth, and I’m pretty sure you’re going to say the word dangerous, and I’m going to throttle you with my bare hands when you do.”

“It’s not just the danger,” Jason said slowly, and Emily just arched a brow. “It’s not. That—that would be a choice she needed to make. If that was on the table. It’s not.”

“Okay, so if it’s not the danger, and it’s not you just generally being anti-social, then—”

“The Jerome Galleries. I know what that is. Robin took me to an opening for one of her college friends once. She told me how important it was. You told me the same thing. This woman—she has a place in New York, too, right?”

“Yeah, but—” Emily sighed. “You’re worried about her name being linked with hers. People choosing not to pay attention. Or maybe Ava Jerome won’t want the bad press. Or maybe it’ll attract the wrong kind of attention to Elizabeth’s work.” She grimaced. “I don’t have anything for that,” she muttered. “That’s a good one.”

“Okay—so there’s that. So we’re good now—”

“I also know that’s a question for Elizabeth to answer and not me,” Emily called when he started for the door. “Just like the other thing. And you know that. People get to make their own choices. Haven’t you said that for years?”

Damn her. He looked back. “Yes.”

“So it can’t be her career. It doesn’t even exist yet, though it will. And it’s not the danger. So we’re back to you being messed up from what happened before. That’s okay. You get to have your reasons, Jase. I just want you to be honest with yourself.” She crossed to a counter, scribbled something on the corner of a paper. “So that when you go have this conversation with Elizabeth, you’re prepared.”

“I—”

“Then again, she’s nicer than I am. She might just let you off the hook.” She held out the address.  “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

—

Elizabeth slid another empty canvas into the storage, then went to finish unpacking her oil paints. The light was exactly perfect here, she thought, taking a look at the lone window. It was a large one that pulled in all the morning light from the lake, but she’d need a few more lamps to brighten the corners of the room.

The knock at the door jarred her, and she looked over at it with some trepidation. There weren’t many people who had this address. She flipped the shade back, blinked when she saw Jason on the other side. Their eyes met, then Elizabeth let the shade fall back into place, and took a deep breath.

Did she have the energy for whatever this was? No. But he was here, and maybe it was just to clear the air. She finally flipped the locks and pulled the door open. “Um, hey. Hi.”

“Hey.” Jason slid his hands in his pockets. “Emily gave me the address—”

Behind her, the freshly hooked up phone rang, and Elizabeth held a finger up to Jason, and went to answer it. “Hello?”

“Hey, Liz. It’s me,” Emily said, a bit breathless. “I went back and forth on this, but I figured better to warn you. Jason might be coming by—”

“Yeah, he just got here—” She mouthed the word Emily to him and he grimaced, came in and closed the door. “Why is that a warning?”

“Um. We talked. A lot. I didn’t tell him anything you said, not specifically. Not about him. But he knows we’ve talked.”

“Ah. Got it. Okay. Thanks.” Elizabeth set the phone back on the receiver, then looked at Jason who still stood at the door, peering at the lock with a frown. “I know, it’s not great.”

“It’s useless,” he muttered. He flicked the shade with derision. “It’s a security disaster. The door’s a flimsy piece of crap, and the lock could be picked by a toddler.”

“Well, it’s a shame you weren’t around when I was looking for places.” Elizabeth went back to her box of paints. “If you wanted to have an opinion, then you needed to say so. But you don’t, do you?” She stacked the paints. “Did you come here just insult my door, or—”

“I came to apologize. About the show. Not about—I should have told you I wasn’t going.”

Her fingers stilled on the tube of color, ironically a cerulean blue she’d ordered because of his eyes. “Yeah, you should have. But that would have to mean talking to me, and you don’t really want to do that, either, do you?”

She refused to look at him, didn’t want to feel bad for being short or irritated.

“I know how important that night was to you, and I’m—I hate the idea that something I did made you unhappy for any part of it. You deserved better.”

Elizabeth squeezed her eyes closed, fighting back the tears stinging her eyes. With a careful, low breath, she turned around to look at him. He hadn’t budged from the door, his hands back in his pockets. “I wish I could tell you I didn’t even notice you weren’t there, but we both know that’s not true because Emily is annoying.” Her voice wobbled slightly on her next words, and she hated herself for it. “Why didn’t you just tell me you didn’t want to go?”

“Because it’s not true,” Jason said, and he took just a half step towards her, seemed to rock back on his heels before staying where he’d started. He swallowed hard. “I wanted to go. To be there for you.”

“But you didn’t. So it doesn’t really matter what what you wanted to do, does it?” Elizabeth folded her arms, not feeling at all victorious when he just tipped his head in quiet acceptance. “I don’t understand any of this, Jason. I don’t know what I did. It—it’s like we were friendly enough before the island, but then when we were there—” Her hands fell to her side, and she waited for him to look at her. “I felt like we…we understood each other.  But then we came back, and it all went away. You never came to Kelly’s anymore. And when I went to see you, it was like none of that happened.”

“I know,” Jason said, his voice low, a bit pained. “I’m sorry—”

“And Carly—” She forced the words out. “You let her talk to me, about me like I was nothing.” The first tear slid down her cheek and she didn’t stop it, didn’t bother to swipe at it.

His eyes changed and his expression softened, even as she could his mouth pinched. He stepped towards her, just a few steps though it still felt like the Grand Canyon had opened up between them. “I didn’t mean to do that,” he said. “I didn’t want to show her any—I knew if I said anything, it would make it worse—”

“Make what worse?” Elizabeth demanded, her voice climbing. “Why would it have been so awful to tell Carly to shut up? To tell her that my show mattered? That I mattered?”

His hands finally came out of his pockets, dragged through his hair, disheveling it. “That’s not how it works with Carly, okay? You can’t show her any weakness or she’ll make you pay for it—”

“That’s just a copout,” she bit out. “Just admit it. Admit it. You didn’t want her to know because you don’t want it to be true. That’s why you said nothing. And why you didn’t show up—because you know what’s here and you don’t want it. You don’t want me.” She strode forward, heading for the door. “Well, that’s fine. I’m not going to beg you to stay where you don’t want to be—”

He snagged her hand as she passed him, the way he had that night on the terrace—his hand just shooting out almost as if he hadn’t planned it, catching her forearm, then sliding down until his fingers laced with hers. Elizabeth looked at him, startled to see the longing in his expression.

“Every word you said is true,” he managed, “except — I do want it. I do—” He swallowed hard, and her heart started to pound. “I do want you. I just—I can’t have any of it. I can’t have you.”

Her lips parted in surprise and she looked down at their hands, at his larger one wrapped around hers, then she looked at the other hand, looked back at him. Trembling, she laid it against his heart, and felt it pounding beneath her fingers.

She lifted her gaze to his, absorbing that every word he’d just spoken to her was the absolute truth. That Jason Morgan wanted her. He wanted her. He wanted her. That night on the terrace, it had been real. And on the beach. And on the sofa. And right now. Right now—

She raised herself on her toes, and kissed him.

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