Written in 110 minutes. The first scene was supposed to take 5-10 minutes. It took 40, and once I realized I was going to have to either make the ending really abrupt and terrible or go over, I decided to go over and take a little more time, lol. I’m sure you won’t complain.

---

Late June 2000

It was strange to think of Jason having a favorite restaurant anywhere, Elizabeth thought, but if she had to picture him out to eat somewhere other than Luke’s or Kelly’s, she supposed the nondescript wooden building set only a few dozen yards from the shore might fit that bill — except it was filled with people, lights, and music — three things she would never associate with Jason.

“Zaco’s Tacos?” Elizabeth asked, reading the words scrawled over the restaurant before looking at Jason with surprise. “Really?”

“It’s to throw off tourists from the casino,” Jason told her, taking her hand and winding around the crowded inside to a back deck where there were a few tables. “People mind their own business here.”

“Oh, well that explains everything,” Elizabeth said. She sat in the chair Jason pulled out for her, and let him order for the both of them when a man came over to the table, greeting Jason by name with a huge smile. “I forget sometimes that you probably know everyone on the island.”

“Yeah. I mean, they’ve heard of me,” Jason said. “Sonny started buying up land and property here a few years ago, as soon as he started to make real money,” he added. “Eventually, he owned enough to be the largest property owner on the island, and taking over the resort and casino meant that he was also the biggest employer.” He grimaced, reached for the water on the table.

“And you’re business partners now, so—”

“It’s still Sonny’s. But sometimes they don’t see it that way.” Jason shrugged a shoulder. “And it’s easier not to argue.”

“So Sonny doesn’t really own an island, he just controls one.”

“Most of it,  yeah. He just…likes to own things.” Jason shifted, a bit uncomfortable, and Elizabeth decided to change the subject. She didn’t really want to talk about Sonny anyway, though she was fascinated by how Jason had built such a strong and deep relationship with someone who seemed so different from him.

“You know, this is the most time I’ve ever spent near an ocean,” Elizabeth told him after their food had been delivered. She swirled her fork around her jerk chicken dish. “Colorado is land-locked, so the most I ever saw was lakes and rivers.”

“I didn’t—I never thanked you,” Jason said, and she frowned at him. “I know Bobbie’s a friend, and gave you a break on Kelly’s, but I’m sorry you had to put your life aside—”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah, I’m really being put out here. Spending two weeks in the Caribbean, not dealing with customers—spending time with you—the horror.”

Jason smiled slightly, but his expression remained a little tense. “You—you didn’t have to do any of this. I just want you to know I’m not taking it for granted. I know I wasn’t really—I’m not a good patient.”

“No, you’re really not,” Elizabeth agreed and his smile was a little wider now. “I couldn’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be,” she said a bit more softly, and Jason looked at her. “You got hurt because of me—”

“No—”

“We were standing next to each other, but not that close.” She looked down at her dinner, moved the food around on the plate. “You could have easily dived in the other direction to safety, but you didn’t. Your first thought was—was me—a-and I don’t know if I’d—I saw what that bullet did to you.” She lifted her eyes, saw his intense stare. “I was scared when I realized you’d been hurt, and so angry with myself for not seeing it before. The blood—” She looked down at her hand, pressed her fingers together. “I should have known—”

“You were upset and scared—and I’m glad it was me and not you—” Jason leaned forward. “I wouldn’t change anything. Except passing out in the parking garage,” he said with a wince.

“Well, yeah, that wasn’t particularly fun. You’re not exact the lightest thing I’ve had to drag around,” Elizabeth said, and she was relieved to see the smile back on his face. “But I got you upstairs, and thank God Sonny was there to take over. I don’t know where I else I might have gone.” She folded her arms on the table. “Um, we haven’t—I mean, I know what we talked about before we came down here. But I guess I wanted to—” She rubbed her finger across her lip. “I don’t know. I guess I wanted to ask if you’d changed your mind.”

“Changed my mind?” Jason echoed.

“That day in my studio, we—we talked about why you didn’t want—” She hesitated, struggling to find the words, then just sighed. She was edging around the subject, hoping Jason would fill in what she was trying to ask. “I wanted to know where we are. Figuratively, not literally,” she added. “What…what we’re doing.”

Jason exhaled slowly, looked out towards the ocean, the sun dipping below the horizon, the reflection rippling out over the water. “I think it’s too late to stop it,” he admitted, and she frowned. “Maybe if I’d realized it sooner, I could have.”

“Makes me sound like a fungus,” Elizabeth said, trying to force some humor into the pit that curled in her stomach. “As inevitable as the chicken pox—”

Jason winced. “That’s not how I meant it.” He dragged a hand through his hair, then slid into the chair next to her so that they were closer and he was no longer directly across her. He looped his arm over the back of her chair. “By the time I realized what I was feeling,” he told her, his voice low, “it was too late to stop it. I’m not going to apologize for thinking you deserve better. For knowing it,” he added, and she wrinkled her nose. “But you’re the one that decides if that matters. So if this—if I’m the choice you want to make—then I’m going to do whatever I can to make sure you never regret that.”

Elizabeth reached for his other hand, taking it between both of hers. “You said my name,” she murmured. “That day in our dorm room. Do you remember?”

Jason frowned, shook his head. “No, I don’t.”

“You said my name, and I stopped for a moment, because I couldn’t remember if I’d ever heard you say it before. I must have, but maybe you’d never said it that way before that day. And our hands brushed when I tried to move the desk. I felt your touch.” She licked her lips, met his blue eyes. “And it startled me. The way it felt against my skin—” Her fingertips danced down the line of his index finger to his palm, then up again. “I’m not going to say that I started falling that day, but I noticed you in a way I hadn’t before.”

Jason swallowed hard, looked down at their joined hands. “Elizabeth—”

“That’s what I mean—right there—the way you say it. It’s softer than the rest of your words.” Her lips curved into a smile. “I felt safe with you from the moment I met you, and that wasn’t true of most men. I could talk to you, tell you things I hadn’t even said to Lucky—or maybe I had, and he hadn’t heard me. You always listened. Even when you couldn’t have cared less.” Their eyes met again. “That night you came to the dorm, and we went up to Vista Point. You told me I was letting myself down, that what I thought was love wasn’t good enough. That I should never settle for less than I deserve. I heard you, and I’ve spent the last few months learning to believe that.” She touched his jaw. “I did deserve better than what I had, and I’ve found it. I found you. So I hope you know when I make this choice, I’m choosing it with my eyes wide open. I’m choosing you, and I’m going to do whatever I can to make sure you never regret it either.”

He leaned forward, captured her lips in a brief, searing kiss, but drew back almost before she could really sink in. Then he sat back, and she looked around, remembered that they were in a crowded restaurant. She bit her lip, looked back at her dinner. “We should probably finish eating.”

“Yeah.” Jason returned to his chair. “Do—we can take a walk on the beach if you want, when we’re done.”

Elizabeth looked out over the nearby shoreline, then smiled, looked back him. “I’d rather walk on our beach. Just us.”

—

It had been hours since his conversation with Luke, and Sonny still couldn’t shake the sensation that he’d missed something. That there was a detail he couldn’t make fit. He mulled over it the rest of the day, and continued to roll it around in his head when he went home, poured himself a drink.

What was bothering him? Sonny paced over to the windows. It was a simple set of facts. Someone—probably Anthony Moreno—had put out a contract using David Reece as their middle man. They’d shot at Jason and missed. So why hadn’t there been any issues since that night? If it was Moreno, why wasn’t he trying to get Jason out of hiding? Why didn’t he go after Sonny now with the momentum on his side?

It was that detail, Sonny thought. Something about the way it had all gone quiet and he’d never found any of the hint of the contract on the street. Only the shooter had known, and Reece wasn’t responding to any of the usual outreaches. The contract was unfilled, but even if it was personal, why not go for the jugular? Why not force Jason to come out? A few attacks on Sonny would have done that.

Sonny went over to the desk, reached for the phone. He needed more information, and there was only one person he could ask.

—

The house was quiet, cloaked in shadows, with only a few exterior lights to illuminate the driveway when they returned. Night fell quickly when there was little civilization to hold it back. The moon was tucked behind some shadows, so that even the water was black against the dark sky.

But Elizabeth didn’t care that there wasn’t enough moonlight to walk the beach. Somewhere between the restaurant and the house, she’d made a decision.

As soon as they were inside, when Jason had, by force of habit, flipped the lock, Elizabeth slid her hands up his chest. “I was thinking,” she said, “of the beach.”

Jason’s hand curled over her shoulders, his fingers rough against the skin left bare by the thin straps of her tank top. “I could get a flashlight if you really want that walk—”

“No, I mean—” Her fingers drifted down his torso, played with the hem of his shirt. “Earlier. On the beach. Today.”

“What about it?” Jason murmured, tucking an errant curl behind her ear, then trailing his fingertip down her cheek.

“And tonight at the restaurant—I keep coming back to this one thing. When you touch me—” She slid her hands beneath the shirt, careful to keep away from his injury, only touching the tight muscles of his abdomen. “I stop thinking.”

“You—” Jason swallowed hard. “You said that earlier.”

“I think I want to test that theory—” She leaned up on her toes to kiss him lightly. “See how long I can stop thinking. If you’re…I mean if you’re not too tired. Or hurt.”

His hand cupped the back of her neck, and then he was kissing her the way he had earlier, hungrily, backing her up until she was against the wall, the heat sliding through her like a lava flow, scorching everything in its path. She dragged his shirt over his head, desperate to feel him against her. Then her top was gone, thrown somewhere behind them.

Panting slightly, Jason broke away, his hand at the base of her neck, his fingers curved around her throat. “Are you sure? You have to tell me if you want me to stop—”

“I will, I will—” Greedily, Elizabeth dragged him back to her, worried that this feeling would go away, that she’d start thinking again and lose her nerve. “Just don’t stop touching me.”

——

Sonny grimaced, paced the length of Luke’s office. “I know it’s here. I know it’s in the contract from Reece. That’s the key to this whole thing—”

“Yeah, yeah, but you’ve been over it a thousand times with Benny.” Luke offered him a cigar and Sonny shook his head, turned it away. “So what’s different today?”

“Today, you’re going to listen to him talk about the conversation he had with the shooter before we, uh, arranged for his exit,” Sonny said. Luke smirked, and went to let in Benny Abrams, Sonny’s business manager.

“Luke, Sonny. I hope nothing’s wrong,” the older man said. He closed the door. “You said you wanted to talk about the shooter, but I told you everything—”

“Start from the top for Luke,” Sonny directed, and Benny just shrugged.

“Shooter wasn’t that forthcoming, mostly because I think he know who hired him. That’s the beauty of going through some like David Reece. You get to have some deniability.” Benny paused. “He gave us Reece’s name and said his only directive was to make sure that Emily Quartermaine wasn’t hit in the crossfire.”

Luke pursed his lips, considered the words. “That’s it? You got Reece and lay off when Emily Q isn’t around?”

“Yeah.”

“You know, I never understood why they went after Jason here,” Luke said. “On that night. Jason’s at the damn garage all of the damn time. Why not take him out there?”

“We thought it was the message to you—”

“Maybe.” Luke squinted. “How long did he have the contract?”

“A day, he said. Why?” Benny asked.

“Something I’m just—” Luke tipped his squinted. “He named Jason as his target? He said that? He had orders to get rid of Jason Morgan.”

Benny opened his mouth, then closed it. “Well, no, not in those specific words. He just said he picked up the contract the day before from David Reece, that the target spent a lot of time with Emily, and to keep her and the family out of the crossfire—what, what?” he demanded when saw Sonny’s grimace and Luke whipped the cigar from his mouth.

“Shit, shit, shit—” Sonny muttered, snatching up the phone on Luke’s desk.

“What am I missing?”

“Elizabeth didn’t work on that Friday. She wouldn’t have been out in public until the concert.” Luke hissed. “Damn it—she lives on the Quartermaine estate—”

With the phone in the crook of his shoulder, Sonny’s scowl had only deepened. “Jason was shot shoving Elizabeth to the ground. He aimed for her! God damn it—Jason’s not picking up.”

—

Jason lifted Elizabeth, ignoring the pinch in his side when her legs wrapped around her waist, kept kissing her. He carried her down the hall, by passing her bedroom and heading for his, backing in, knocking the already ajar door wide open, then kicking it closed, never breaking contact or concentration.

Elizabeth was the focus, the center of everything, and for as long as she as she’d let him, he was going to spend every second making sure she never regretted it. He planted one leg on the bed, then gently laid her down, his fingers reaching for the button of her jeans. Her hands covered his for just a minute, and he froze, his eyes going towards his. Did she want him to stop—

“I can do that faster,” she breathed. She leaned up kissed the underside of his jaw. “You worry about your pants, and I’ll take care of mine.”

He cupped her face in his, kissed her again, then leaned his forehead against hers. “Best deal I’ve ever heard.”

—

“There’s not a storm on the island, is there?” Luke wanted to know. “I mean, we can call up to your resort, leave a message—”

“No, no, you don’t understand—damn it, I was so stupid. So goddamn stupid. We all were. We were so sure Jason was the target, that Moreno was behind it or hell, your stupid kid, that I didn’t even think to ask myself what if it was Elizabeth—”

“Okay, but other than my kid who didn’t do this,” Luke bit out, “who the hell would hate Elizabeth enough to do this—”

Sonny pressed his fingers to the phone, hung up the current call, then dialed again. “I sent her right into the lion’s den, God damn it—Marco?” he bit out. “Yeah. Yeah. I need you to find Dario Colon and shove him in a jail cell until I get there. Tell Armando I’ll handle it. Then get up to Jason’s. The phone must be out.” He hung up the phone, took a deep breath.

“Who the hell is Dario Colon?”

—

She clung Jason, her legs wrapped tightly around Jason, her heart pounding so hard that it drowned out the sound of everything, even the roar of the ocean waves just beyond the house.

He pressed his forehead against hers, his own chest still rising and falling rapidly. “Are you all right?” he managed to say.

“I am….” Elizabeth finally opened her eyes, saw his face above hers. She touched his cheek. “If there something better than perfect because that’s where I am.”

He nuzzled her neck, rolling off her, but pulling her against him. She curled into his side, enjoying even the way the sweat rolling down his chest felt against her fingers. She’d done that to him, they’d done that together, she marveled. This gorgeous man had been out of breath from making love to her.

“Are you—” Jason frowned. “Are you laughing?”

“No—” She giggled, pressed her fingers to her lips. “No.”

“I might not pick up on all the cues—” Jason shifted and now she was on her back again, and he was looking at her, his elbow planted in the mattress. “But I know what laughing sounds like.”

“I just—I can’t help it. I laugh when I’m happy.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “And I’m happy right now.” She bit her lip. “Are you?”

“That is definitely one of the things I’m feeling.” He leaned down, kissed her lazily. “Relieved. Grateful that you didn’t decide to go with your third date idea.”

Elizabeth drew her brows together for a moment, then laughed again. “I forgot about that. Well, if you count correctly, this is our third date.”

Jason arched a brow. “How do you figure that?”

“Well—” She touched his chest, tracing the hollow of his collarbone. “If you count the beach in March, then the club a few weeks ago—I mean you did give me the ticket and drive me home, so—that would make this our third date.”

He just shook his head, but kissed her again. She sighed, contented—and thirsty.

“Mmm, I could drink a gallon of water.” Elizabeth sat up. “I’m going to grab some from the kitchen. Do you want any?”

“I’ll get it—” Jason started to get up, but she shook her head.

“No, I’ve got it.” She saw her jeans, then wrinkled her nose. “Can I just borrow one of your shirts? I don’t feel like putting those back on—and don’t say I don’t need something to wear—” she said when he opened his mouth.

“I wasn’t—yeah. Top drawer.”

Elizabeth shimmied into a dark blue t-shirt,  then kissed him one more time. “I’ll be right back.”

She left the door partially ajar and headed down the hallway towards the rest of house, all her body cells practically humming. She was practically dancing on air, she thought. All the pieces of her had been stitched back together, and she was alive in ways she hadn’t even been before that night—

So distracted in her own happiness, Elizabeth didn’t notice that her bedroom door had been opened sometime between their arriving home and her trek towards the kitchen. She always kept it closed, worried that Jason or anyone who came to the house might see what she was working on before she was ready.

But the partially ajar door didn’t register to her—until she was just past it. She paused, frowned, and started to turn—

Not fast enough. The hand clamped down on her math, an arm jerked her off her feet and yanked her back, into the room, kicking the door closed.

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