How you gonna ever find your place
Runnin’ at artificial pace?
Are they gonna find us lying face down in the sand?
So what the hell now, we’ve already been forever damned
Anywhere you go, I’ll follow you down
Anyplace, but those I know by heart
Anywhere you go, I’ll follow you down
I’ll follow you down, but not that far
– Follow You Down, Gin Blossoms

---

Saturday, January 8, 2000

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

As much as Elizabeth had wanted to try to stay in bed all day, eventually her stomach had growled, and Jason had insisted on feeding her. She’d thought about trying out his suggestion about the shower, but when she’d finally slid out of the bed, her muscles protested —

And it turned out you really couldn’t make love all day when you were new to the whole thing, but how absolutely amazing to know she could do it again tonight—

“You have to stop doing that,” Jason said, jerking her out of her thoughts, and handing her a slice of the pizza he’d just pulled from the box they’d had delivered. Elizabeth frowned. “You know what you were doing.”

“I do not.” Elizabeth bit her lip, and he scowled. “Oh. That? I always do that—”

“And I told you—” Jason kissed her quickly, but thoroughly before releasing her. “What it makes me think about.”

Her cheeks flushed but she forced herself not to bite her lip again. She took her pizza and went over to the sofa. “I’ll try to remember, but I’m not gonna lie — I’m not going to try very hard.”

Jason just sighed and came to sit next to her, “You’re a menace, you know that?”

“No. But you can tell me again.” She beamed at him. It was so lovely to realize just how much Jason wanted to be with her. Sure, he’d said it, and sometimes she’d gotten hints. But since this morning, he’d stopped hiding it. And she liked it. It made her feel beautiful and desirable—and all the things she’d never thought possible.

Jason Morgan was sexually attracted to her, and almost everything she did made him hot for her. She grinned at him, and he just narrowed his eyes. “Eat your pizza.”

“That’s right. Fuel for later.” Elizabeth sat crossed legged. “You know, there are probably lots of things we can do that—”

The phone on the desk rang, and Jason sprang up, almost looking relieved. She just shrugged and bit into her pizza. She had done a lot of reading in her life, and she had a lot of ideas just waiting to try out, and now that she knew she could, she wanted to do everything—

“Can it wait?” Jason grimaced, looked over at her. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll be over.”  He set the phone back on the base. “I have to go over to Sonny’s. He said it wouldn’t take long.”

“Okay.” Elizabeth lifted her pizza. “I’ll be here—refueling.”

This time he laughed, and came back to the sofa to kiss her. “Mmm. You taste like pizza.”

“That doesn’t sound like a good thing—”

“It is when you’re hungry.” Jason kissed her again, lingering. “I don’t want to go, you know that, right?”

“Yeah. I know. But we had all morning and part of the afternoon.” She touched his face, trailing her fingers along his jaw. “The rest of the world isn’t going to stop for us. So go get dressed, and then hurry back.”

“I will.”

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

Sonny grimaced as Max opened the door for Jason. He was not looking forward to this conversation, and from the way Jason had spoken on the phone, Sonny had interrupted something at the penthouse.  “Hey. Sorry if you had plans today.”

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

“I got a call to meet Vega and Tagliatti at the No Name this morning.” Sonny paused. “Vega wants something from us.”

Jason tensed. “What?”

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

“Why the hell not? It’s personal—” Jason began, then shook his head. “No. It’s not, is it?”

“They’re gonna use the party as a cover to take out Sorel. They didn’t say what the hurry was, but I figure Tagliatti and Vega have their eye on Moreno’s territory, and they’re not interested in letting Sorel solidify his hold. Better to act now while things are up in the air.”

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

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

“Wait. Wait—” Jason shook his head. “There’s already a plan? Damn it, Sonny, you’re in on this—”

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

“I’m not—”

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t get order me around—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Elizabeth had just set her plate on the desk by the half-empty pizza box when Jason stormed back in, the door slamming so hard behind him that it vibrated. He stalked right past her, towards the fireplace and windows. Her smile faded. The sweet, sexy, frustrated man who’d left her less than ten minutes ago had been replaced by a furious one, and she wasn’t entirely sure how to handle it. Was she even allowed to ask?

“Is everything okay?”

Jason turned, his eyes softening even as the tension remained in his face. “If Sonny tries to talk to you, don’t listen.”

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

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

Mystified, she took a step towards him. “I do trust you, and I won’t talk to Sonny if that’s what you want.” She hesitated. “Can I least know what’s going on or—”

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

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

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

That was the absolute last thing Elizabeth had expected to hear and she simply stared at him. “Why does Sonny think I’ll say yes when you already said no?”

“It’s—” Jason grimaced. He glared window overlooking the terrace. “Because it’s how things are done,” he muttered. “Sonny thinks I’m an idiot, and I don’t know that.”

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

“No.”

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

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

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

“I don’t want this to touch you—”

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

“Then what—”

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

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

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

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

“Okay. So we won’t do it and Sonny will have to figure out something else.” She turned back to the pizza box. “Do you need more food or are we good with that now?”

“I’m fine.” There was another pause. “You’re not going to ask any other questions?”

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

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

“Right. That’s what I said.” She went over to him, slid her arms around his waist. “Do you want to keep talking about Sonny?”

“Not even a little bit.” Jason cupped her face in his hands, kissed her. “But we also can’t do that.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not that sore—”

Jason just shook his head, kissed her again, and then swatted her butt. She jumped, then grinned. He’d never done that before. “Get dressed,” he told her. “We’ll take the bike out.”

“Can I drive—”

“No.”

Elizabeth grumbled and head for the stairs. “So much for the sexual favors I was gonna surprise you with—” She squealed as he scooped her up and carried her to the stairs. “You changed your mind?”

“What do you think?”

---

They never did make it out on the bike, and Jason had been a little regretful about that when he was called out for a last minute issue at the warehouse.

Since he didn’t know how long it would be, Elizabeth decided not to wait up in the bedroom. So far, they’d only been there, and she was thinking about branching out to other rooms.

She was pretty proud of herself, she thought as she curled up on the sofa and reached for the remote. She’d jumped head first into the whole sex thing, and it turned out she was pretty good at it — or at least, Jason thought she was good enough that she’d managed to distract him from whatever argument he was having with Sonny.

It was strange that Jason seemed so grateful that Elizabeth had taken his side with so little push back. This was Jason’s way of life, and he was the one calculating all the risks. What business was it of hers to say differently?

She flicked through the channels, restless, because there wasn’t really anything she wanted to watch but she needed a way to pass the time—

There was a knock at the door. “Mrs. Morgan?” Francis called through the door.

Elizabeth beamed the sound of the name that was almost legally hers. She’d forgotten to tell Jason she’d signed the forms — she’d do that when he got home. “It’s open,” she called back.

“Mr. C needs to talk to you.”

Elizabeth frowned, then scowled. Jason had left ten minutes ago, and here Sonny was, knocking on her door.

If Sonny tries to talk to you, don’t listen.

That little twerp. So much for a last-minute warehouse snafu. She got to her feet and went over to the door to pull it open, surprising Francis and Sonny. “What do you want?”

“Can we—” Sonny gestured, and Elizabeth stepped back, folding her arms. He came past her and she closed the door. “Sorry if I’m interrupting dinner—”

“You know you’re not interrupting anything. You’re the reason Jason had to go to the warehouse, aren’t you?”

Sonny blinked, then grinned ruefully. “You’re pretty quick—”

“And you’re a shitty friend.”

The grin faded. “Excuse me?”

“Whoever called Jason made it sound serious.” She folded her arms. “He left right away. You did it so you could get me alone to talk to you about something Jason already said no to. You didn’t care if we had plans. You just cared about yourself.”

“Look, I get why Jason is angry at me, and I hate that it has to be this way. But this life means doing the hard things—”

“And it means you trying to shove a wedge between me and Jason because you think you’re right,” Elizabeth cut in sharply. Sonny stared at her blankly. “What do you expect is going to happen if Jason tells you no, and then I tell him that I’m on your side? You think Jason isn’t going to be mad at me?”

“Elizabeth—”

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

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

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

“Okay, maybe—”

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

“That’s not—”

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

“I didn’t mean for that to happen—”

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

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

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

“This wedding reception is going to happen,” Sonny warned her as he went into the hall, turning back to face her. “I already told the others yes. So you tell Jason—”

She slammed the door before he could finish.

And all I want from you is what you are
And even if you’re right next to me
You’re still too far away
If I’m not inside your arms
I get dramatic, baby, yes I know
But I need you, I want you, oh man, I love you so
You’re gonna see
I’m gonna run, I’m gonna try
I’m gonna take this love right to ya
All my heart, all the joy
Oh baby, baby, please
– Rush Rush, Paul Abdul

---

Saturday, January 8, 2000

Morgan Penthouse: Hallway

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

He knew he’d messed everything up—had seen the way her entire body had flinched when he’d rejected her offer to make plans for after she’d finished work. The life had drained out of her eyes, the color fading her from her cheeks. He’d hurt her, and he didn’t know how to make it right.

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

He hated knowing Sonny was right, that Jason had caused her all of this pain by not simply reassuring her that he wanted her to stay with him—

But it couldn’t be ruined completely, Jason reminded himself. Elizabeth hadn’t moved to the guest bedroom—which he’d seen yesterday was now furnished. She’d stayed in their bedroom, in their bed.

And she lay there now, fast asleep. As long as she was still here, he could fix this. He just had to open his damn mouth and tell her what he was thinking. And keep doing that. And then she’d never smile at him that way again, with the lie on her lips and the truth in her eyes.

He changed into a pair of sweat pants, then crawled into bed beside her, unsurprised when she didn’t stir. He laid on his back, and listened to her breathe.

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

Her eyelids fluttered and she rolled onto her back, stretching her arms over her head, then crossing them over her eyes. “We need darker curtains,” she mumbled. “Can we get them in black?”

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

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

“I can do that.”

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

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

“Good morning.”

“I spent yesterday,” she said, “thinking about what you said the other day. About not having to stay married.”

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

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

Jason shook his head. “No—”

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

He was, but— “Not that way—”

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

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

“I talked to Alexis.”

Jason frowned. “What?”

“She doesn’t agree with Sonny.” She rolled over so that she could see him. “About the PCPD just going away.”

“Oh.” Relief swirled in his gut. He still had time.

“But if Sonny were right…” Elizabeth hesitated. “If Alexis said we didn’t need the year…” her eyes searched his. “Would you still want it? I mean, if we had the choice.”

“We did have the choice,” Jason reminded. “I made mine.”

“Before the wedding, yeah. But now, it would be different. Carly isn’t a threat anymore.” Elizabeth nibbled at her bottom lip. “Would—would you agree with Sonny? That we’d just stay married until we didn’t want to be?”

“Isn’t that what everyone does? They stop being married when they don’t want to be anymore?” It wasn’t an answer to her question, he knew that, but he wasn’t really sure now that she was asking it. He didn’t want things to change right now, but he knew that wasn’t what she wanted to know.

“I guess.” Elizabeth paused. “But it’s different. I don’t know. And I don’t think we should just ignore it like it doesn’t matter.”

He hesitated. “I’m not doing that—”

“We both are.” She sighed, stared at the ceiling. “I knew we’d be married for a year, and I thought, well that’s enough time to figure out what this is, so that’s fine. And you know, I think I was expecting you to be done with me by then.”

Jason scowled. “Done with you—”

“Or maybe I’d be ready to move on,” she said, and he stopped again. “Which would make that year agreement a relief, right? An out. An exit plan.”

“Right—”

“But what if we don’t want an exit plan in a year?” Elizabeth rolled on her side, waited for him to look at her. “What if we still want to be together? That’s—I mean, that could happen. Do we just stay married?”

“I—”

“I don’t think it’s right to just…drift into marriage either, and that’s all we’d be doing. Marriage—it should be a promise.” She met his eyes. “We didn’t make it. Not the way I’d want to. Um, does that make sense?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Yeah. It does.” And he didn’t have an easy answer to that.

“And we’re not ready to talk about making that promise.” She slid closer and he tugged her into his arms, relieved that she fit just the way she had the day before. “I’m not trying to get you to do that.”

“I know that.”

“I just—I don’t want to ruin the chance that maybe one day…” The tips of her fingers traced a pattern on his chest. “Maybe we’d want to.”

“We won’t.” He kissed the top of her head. “As long as we’re honest with each other. If—if you change your mind—if you don’t want to be here anymore—”

“I’ll tell you.” She tiled her head up so that their eyes met again. “And you’ll tell me if you’re the one that changes their mind. That’s — that’s a promise we should be able to make.”

“It’s an easy one.” He brushed his mouth against hers.

“Do you have to be anywhere?” she murmured.

“No.”

“Good. Can we just lay here for a little while? I’ve missed you.”

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

---

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

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

“No,” he said, and her cheeks flushed when she dragged her eyes up to meet his, to find him smiling because he’d probably known what she was looking at.

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

“Did you want to do something?”

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

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

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

You.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay?” he asked, roughly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You were saying?” she murmured.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No Name Restaurant: Private Dining Room

Sonny frowned when he entered the room and only saw Sammy Tagliatti and Daniel Vega waiting—no Sorel.  An emergency meeting already didn’t bode all that well — but one missing the most unpredictable member wasn’t particularly encouraging.

“Uh, you commanded my presence?” he said, rubbing his chin.

“Sonny.” Daniel Vega rose. “Take seat—”

“No, thanks. I’ll stand.” Sonny rested his hands on the back of the seat left empty for him. “What did you need?”

“We’ve been discussing the matter of Joseph Sorel,” Vega continued, resuming his seat at the other end of the table, clearly elected to lead this particular meeting. He steepled his fingers in front of him. “And we thought that perhaps we might offer you a chance to make good on some…broken promises.”

Sonny tensed. “Broken promises,” he repeated.

“Two years ago,” Vega continued, “you were supposed to marry the lovely Brenda Barrett. We were invited to attend, and continue the tradition of trading favors in honor of the marriage.”

“The marriage didn’t happen—” Sonny said, his throat tight, remembering that terrible day. And Brenda, lost forever to the deep, still waters of the lake.

“Yes, my Carlotta was quite disappointed in you to not even have the decency to call off the ceremony before it began.”

Sonny grimaced. “What’s your point? What does that have to do with Sorel?”

“We’d like to arrange a way to rid ourselves of the pest,” Vega said. “And celebrate your partner’s marriage in a manner befitting such a lovely bride. We’ll hold a reception here at the No Name. Sorel will be reluctantly invited. We will celebrate the young love of Mr. Morgan and the lovely Elizabeth, and then we will solve our Sorel problem.”

Sonny hesitated, then swallowed the immediate denial that came to mind. Jason would never agree to it — he’d never want Elizabeth to be part of this.

But he took an extra moment, took a look at Tagliatti who had said nothing, leaving the entire matter in Vega’s hands.

“All right. Let’s talk details.”

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

Jason wasn’t one for dreams — when he closed his eyes, there was nothing between falling asleep and waking up. But if he dreamed, he didn’t think he’d be able to think of anything that was better than this moment.

Elizabeth was in his arms, curled up and dozing, her body soft and relaxed tucked against his, as if she’d been designed to fit there. She’d picked today of all days to take the next step—one he hadn’t thought possible for at least a few more weeks.

He’d fumbled so badly the other day—and yesterday—letting her think that he didn’t want to be with her anymore, and somehow, without Jason doing anything to fix it, Elizabeth had found a way to bridge that awkwardness—to resolve their tension—

It almost didn’t feel fair, Jason thought, for her to have been the one to fix it when he’d broken it in the first place. But maybe that was okay. Maybe it was supposed to be like this.

“Can’t we just stay like this all day?” Elizabeth murmured, her lashes fluttering. Her eyes remained closed.

“We could,” he murmured against her forehead. “If you don’t want to eat anything.”

“I’m afraid if I move—” She stopped, her voice faltering, and Jason was startled when he felt something damp on his chest, and Elizabeth rolled away from him hiding her face.

“Elizabeth?”

“It’s stupid.”

“Hey. It’s not.” Jason leaned down, kissed her shoulder, left bare by the sheet that had slid away when she’d moved. “Talk to me.”

“I just…” Elizabeth rolled to her back, and he hovered over her, worried about the shimmer of tears he still saw in her eyes. “What if I wake up and it’s all a dream? Sometimes dreams feel so real when you’re in them, and then you wake up, and it’s so much worse. Because—”

Jason dipped his head to hide the smile tugging at his lips. He nuzzled her neck, then—nipped her collarbone. She jerked, startled. Her eyes wide. “Still think it’s a dream?” he asked.

“You think that’s funny, don’t you?” Her eyes narrowed.

“A little.” He grinned and the irritation smoothed away from her expression. “It’s not a dream,” he told her. “And if we get up and get dressed, it doesn’t mean we can’t come right back in here later and do this all over again. If that’s what you want to do.”

Elizabeth studied him. “Is that what you want to do?”

“Spending the day in bed with you,” Jason told her, his voice deepening, “is all I’ve wanted to do since the first time I kissed you.”

“Really?”

“I told you—” he swept his thumb across her bottom lip, then leaned down to kiss her again. “I told you days ago that I wanted you.”

“I know.”

He stroked the long line of her torso with his fingertips, until he reached her knee, lifting it so that she rested more firmly against him. She bit her lip again— “Every time you do that, you know what it makes me want to do?” he asked her.

“What?”

He kissed her, taking that bottom lip into his mouth and flicking his tongue over the nicks her teeth had left. She sighed, tangled her fingers in his hair. He started to raise himself over her, to cover her, then stopped.

“What’s wrong?” she murmured, her eyes unfocused. “Don’t you—”

“Do you want to?” he asked. Her expression cleared and she realized what he meant. She’d needed to be in charge, to make the moves. And he’d made sure she was on top, completely in control of moving.

This way, with her underneath him—he’d stop if she wanted him to, but he didn’t want her to feel trapped. To feel fear or anxiety even for a moment.

He slid his hand down to cover her heart, feeling its rapid beat beneath his fingers. “I need you to be okay,” he said, almost roughly. “To want this, too.”

“I do.” She swallowed hard. “And just like this. I do. You would do it this way with anyone else—”

“You’re not anyone else,” he cut in.

“But I want to be.” Her eyes filled again and he exhaled. Better to have this conversation now then be in the middle and hurt her worse. Jason swept her up, rolling so that he was sitting up and she was in his lap, straddling him.  “Jason—”

“I need you to listen to me,” he said, a bit more roughly than he meant to. He cupped her head by the nape of her neck and kissed her hard, until she was panting and her eyes were glazed over again. “Look at me and listen, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I want you. Like this. Underneath me. Against the wall. In the shower. Bent—” he stopped as her eyes widened, not with surprise or shock, but something else and he really needed to finish this part without being distracted again. “But you are not just a body in my bed. You’re not anyone else,” he repeated. “You’re Elizabeth. And I don’t want you, not for one minute, to feel anything but good when you’re with me. That’s all that matters. I need you to understand that. As long as I have my hands on you—I don’t care how it happens.”

She smiled tremulously. “You really mean that.”

She was going to kill him. “Yes.”

Elizabeth licked her lips and he thought maybe he’d just kill her instead— “Then I think I want all of the above. Including the one you didn’t finish.”

“What?”

“Maybe not all at once,” she continued, wiggling until his eyes nearly crossed, and she smirked. Fast learner, he thought.  “But definitely making a list.”

He groaned, dropped his forehead until it rested against her collarbone. “You’re going to kill me,” he said, this time out loud, and he felt her laugh, more than heard it.

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” She tilted his head back up, cupped his jaw with her hands so that their eyes met again. “I mean that. When you look at me, when I’m in your arms like this, there’s nothing else. I was so scared it wouldn’t be like that. But it’s just us. Just you.”

He swept her hair back, kissed the hollow of her throat. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want to be underneath you.” Her hands braced at his shoulders. “If that’s okay.”

“That…is definitely okay,” he managed after a moment to take a deep breath. Then he gave her exactly what she wanted.

I’m too shy to ask, I’m to proud to lose
But sooner or later I’ve got to choose
And once again I’m thinking about
Taking the easy way out
But if I let you go I will never know
What my life would be holding you close to me
Will I ever see you smiling back at me?
How will I know if I let you go?
– If I Let You Go, Westlife

---

Friday, January 7, 2000

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

The skies were just beginning to lighten with hints of dawn as Jason finally got home, after a shipment had arrived three hours later than they’d expected and a chunk had been missing—

Cursing the security at the border which had held up a second shipload, Jason was feeling the edges of exhaustion fighting at the edges. He didn’t need a lot of sleep, but he still needed some, and there hadn’t been much to go around lately. They’d gone to bed late after the PCPD had destroyed the penthouse, and he’d woken with Elizabeth at four-thirty in the morning for her shift at Kelly’s.

Now he stood in the middle of his living room as weak, gray morning light illuminated a room that had been mostly bare the day before — the only piece of furniture to get delivered before he’d left had been the pool table.

A leather sofa that looked similar to the one the cops had destroyed had been delivered, along with a matching arm chair. A new coffee table sat in front of the sofa — and a console table with a new television set.

He glanced towards the stairs, to the bedroom he’d shared with Elizabeth for nearly a week. He’d left yesterday with a strange tension in the air — she hadn’t really reacted to his news about the time limit on their marriage, and he didn’t really know what to do with that.

She hadn’t seemed disappointed or relieved — two emotions he would have understood. Something in the middle that left him uncomfortable and questioning himself — which was not a position he enjoyed.

He considered just stretching out on the sofa for a few hours, but would that hurt her? Would she be angry he didn’t come upstairs? Would she care?

He exhaled slowly. Only one way to find out.

He removed his boots before he went up the stairs, his steps not making a sound on the carpet. He stopped outside their bedroom door, then looked over at the third bedroom which hadn’t been taken over as her temporary art studio.

What if the furniture downstairs meant that she’d also ordered a bed for that room? Maybe she wouldn’t even be in the master bedroom. After all, it wasn’t like the PCPD would come back to search and notice separate bedrooms.

Jason didn’t realize how much he’d expected to find an empty room until he twisted the knob and gently pushed it open.

There was a light still on at the side of the bed. Elizabeth was on her side, curled up, eyes closed. She’d fallen asleep, the magazine she’d been reading on the floor beside the bed, her fingertips dangling of the edge as if she’d turned over and let it fall.

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

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

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

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

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

Taggert folded his arms. “How long did it take you to cave to Alexis Davis?” he demanded.

“Not just me.” Mac said, getting to his feet and going to close the door to the office. “She showed up here yesterday morning with a lawsuit already written, prepared to file if I refused to take the meeting. The last thing this department needs is a public relations nightmare like this—”

“Suspend Capelli, but let me have my investigation—”

“The city’s attorney took one look at the lawsuit, the photos, and that damned dress, and told me that we’re lucky all Alexis Davis asked for was us to back off Elizabeth Morgan.” Mac scowled. “Don’t make that face. That’s her name now. You’re making this personal because you like her—”

“And you don’t?”

“She’s married to him,” Mac said bluntly. “We can speculate all we want why she did it—”

“They were not sleeping together a month ago, damn it! Carly might not be credible, but you know her statement lines up with the facts! You know that’s how it went down!”

“What we know and what we can prove are different,” Mac said, and Taggert just shook his head. “Are there any other witnesses other than Carly that can corroborate Morgan getting shot last month?”

“If we can get him in for a physical—”

“We might get lucky and get a new scar. But no judge is signing a warrant after Capelli destroyed that bedroom. The downstairs was bad enough—but that bedroom, that dress—you’re not getting anything. And Carly is not enough to go into a court room. Alexis Davis would tear her apart.”

Taggert scowled. “So that’s it. Morgan gets to walk away again—”

“You didn’t have anything on him to begin with. A gunshot wound doesn’t tie him to Moreno—”

“The timing—”

“Circumstantial. And you can’t even drag Elizabeth in and subpoena her—”

“Because he married the best witness against him!” Taggert exploded. “Why am I the only one who sees it?”

“Prove it. Go ahead. Prove their marriage isn’t real.” Mac lifted a brow when the detective remained silent. “You want to question her again, you go through Alexis. You want to question Jason, you go through Alexis—”

“Conflict of interest—”

“Prove it,” Mac repeated. “You get me evidence that Jason only married Elizabeth to circumvent the legal system, then we can take it to the city attorney. But until then — you can investigate Moreno’s death all you want. But stay away from the Morgans.”

Morgan Penthouse: Kitchen

Elizabeth had just sat at the table with her hot chocolate and a bagel when Jason strode in, stopping short at the doorway. They looked at each other for a long moment, then he cleared his throat. “I thought you had work.”

“I did—I do. Um, the lunch shift.” Was that the only reason he’d come downstairs? She’d been surprised to find him still asleep when she’d woken—he so rarely slept longer than she did. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

Jason opened a cabinet, took down a bag of coffee beans. “I didn’t get in until four.”

She flicked her eyes at the clock over the stove. Four hours ago. “You could have slept longer.”

“I have to take care of something at the warehouse.” He switched on the grinder, the loud sound forestalling further conversation.

The day before, they’d woken up together — her alarm waking him first, actually, and he’d had to nudge her awake. She’d smiled, and stretched lazily—and then they’d spent a few more minutes in bed—

Her cheeks felt hot, and she glanced down at her breakfast. Today was different. He had barely looked at her—and he was such a light sleeper, she realized now it was hard to believe he’d slept through her shower and getting dressed — only to wake up directly after her and take a shower of his own.

Which meant he’d laid in bed, pretending to be asleep and hoping he’d miss her entirely.

Doubt swirled in her chest, and everything felt heavy—like it was a chore just to hold up her own head. Did Jason—did he regret how hastily they’d gotten married? Now that he knew it didn’t need to last even a year. What if they’d found another way to stop Carly —

Maybe Sonny giving him an out made Jason realize he didn’t want to be married, or worse—

Elizabeth pushed her plate aside, picked up her hot chocolate. “Um, I get done work around eight,” she told him. He glanced over to her, then back at the coffee pot. “I was—maybe we could—”

“It’s supposed to rain,” he cut in, and she closed his mouth. “And I’ll probably be at the warehouse most of the day. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“Right.” She forced herself to take a sip. He was pulling back, pushing her away — either way, the dynamic had shifted. She didn’t know how to fix it. What if she was just making this all up in her head—

“Hey.”

Elizabeth blinked, cleared her throat, and found Jason at the table. He pulled out a chair and sat down. “Hey,” she said almost weakly.

“I was out of the picture for almost a month,” Jason reminded her, his eyes soft — and she relaxed. “Sonny held up a couple of—” He paused. “Shipments,” he finally said, and she nodded. “He didn’t reschedule until he knew I was back at work. The Christmas party, Moreno, and then…it just means I’m going to be busy for a few nights. Tonight definitely.”

“Okay.”

“But you have Francis to take you anywhere you want to go.” Jason went back to the counter, finished making his coffee, and she felt the withdrawal like a sharp, cold snap. “And I left the bank stuff on the desk—”

“I don’t want your money,” Elizabeth muttered.  Especially now. It felt…more like a transaction than it had before. Hadn’t they just been looking at wedding photos? How had it gone so badly?

“I know. And I know you won’t use it. But I’d feel better if you had at least one of the debit cards—”

“One of?” Elizabeth scowled. “We agreed that you’d set up one account—”

“One that’s just yours, yeah. But I’ve got others. You’re on them now. And there’s a credit card. Maybe two. Alexis thought you might—” Jason glanced over at her. “In case there’s an emergency. She left some forms for you to sign. I didn’t get a chance to tell you yesterday.”

“Forms?”

“Uh—” Jason came over to the table with his coffee. “Forms for a name change,” he said finally. “Social security, DMV—”

Name change. It hadn’t seemed like a big deal a few days earlier, but now— “Do you think I should still do that? Change my last name?”

Jason hesitated. “You don’t have to. I mean—” He met her eyes briefly, then as he’d done before, looked away. Focused on his coffee. “It’s your name. It doesn’t matter to me.”

She knew that was true. She knew that he probably wouldn’t care even if he’d gotten down on one knee and promised her forever. But somehow, hearing it today, it felt different. As if none of this mattered at all.

Why go through all the paperwork if the time limit was gone? They could have a fight in three weeks and break up. No reason to stick now.

“I’ll look at the forms,” she said finally. “And talk to Alexis. See what she thinks.”

“Okay.”

“I should—I need to do some more work upstairs.” Elizabeth picked up her hot chocolate. “Um, let me know if you go anywhere, I guess. If you can.” She flashed a quick smile, then headed for the door, tossing her barely touched bagel in the trash on the way.

“Yeah. I will.”

She hurried out of the kitchen, irritated with herself for not pushing the conversation further, and sick with knowing that she’d only backed off because she’d been afraid of the answers.

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

“Everything go okay last night?” Sonny wanted to know when Jason came by later that day. Jason shoved his hands in his pockets, trying not to glower at his partner. It wasn’t Sonny’s fault that Jason had somehow killed his own marriage, but damned if Jason didn’t want to punch him all the same.

“Yeah, nothing that didn’t get resolved. Last round of shipments are tonight, aren’t they? And then nothing until next week?”

“That’s the plan.” Sonny sipped his coffee. “You got something else to do this weekend?”

Not that it mattered now, Jason thought darkly. He’d thought about checking Elizabeth’s work schedule and seeing if she’d go away for a night or two. Not to pressure her anything, but well, it was what people did, wasn’t it? When they got married?

But that had been before. Now she didn’t even want to change her name, even though she’d asked Alexis for the damn forms in the first place—

“No. Just wanted to know.”

Sonny hesitated. “Everything okay?”

“Yes.”

“Doesn’t sound like it—”

“It’s none of your business either,” Jason cut in, sharply, and Sonny exhaled. Set his coffee down. “So just stay out of it.”

“If this is about yesterday, what I said—I didn’t tell you to get divorced tomorrow. I just thought—you should check with Alexis first—”

Jason scowled. “Wait. I thought you said that she—”

“No. She didn’t. She was meeting with the PCPD yesterday, but it won’t change anything. The cops still won’t be able to touch Elizabeth after that search.” Sonny got to his feet. “Before, it was spousal privilege protecting Elizabeth. Now it’s Capelli’s impulse control and the witness intimidation.”

“Why did you say anything then?” he demanded.

Sonny rubbed his chin. “Uh, I have to say I’m a little baffled why you’re angry with me. All I did was tell you—”

“That Elizabeth doesn’t need to be married to me,” Jason interrupted.

“No, that’s not what I said. I said you might not need a year. No one said anything about Elizabeth not—” Sonny stopped. “Did you talk to Elizabeth about this? Does she want a divorce? Or annulment?”

“No.” Jason raked a hand through his hair. “Not yet.”

“No, you didn’t talk to her—”

“She didn’t ask for one yet,” Jason said, his teeth clenched. “But now she’s talking about not changing her name—”

“Ah.” Sonny nodded, and Jason wanted to deck him — why did he have to look so smug? What did he have to be smug about? “That explains it.”

“Explains what?”

“You told Elizabeth you didn’t have to be married a year.” He tipped his head. “Why did you tell her anything at all if you wanted to stay married?”

“What?”

“You’re ticked at me because I told you the time limit had changed. I’m not the one who turned around and told her,” Sonny pointed out. “So I’m asking you why would you open your mouth and give her an out if you’re happy with the way things are?”

Jason grimaced, looked away. “That’s not the point.”

“No, I think it’s exactly the point. You could be pissed at me if I’d told Elizabeth, because that wouldn’t be my business. But I didn’t do that. So you told her and she didn’t immediately leap into your arms and declare she wasn’t going anywhere, and now somehow I’m the bad guy.”

“That’s—” Not what he’d wanted Elizabeth to do, not exactly. Frustrated, Jason folded his arms. But maybe he’d wanted some indication that Elizabeth was okay with things staying the way they were. “You’re not understanding the problem—”

“I’m understanding clearly. You’re the one who doesn’t understand—”

Jason tensed. “I’m not stupid.”

Sonny’s brow creased in confusion. “I didn’t say you were—”

“Then what the hell do you mean?”

Sonny hesitated. “Sometimes when you’re in the middle of the situation, when it’s happening to you, it’s hard to see it from an outside perspective. Elizabeth is probably having the same doubts you are.”

Jason didn’t know what that meant, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to admit that to Sonny. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew how to solve his own problems, and he didn’t need Sonny to explain women to him.

“You don’t know Elizabeth—”

“Not as well as you do, no. But I’m just asking you to think about it from her perspective. She got married three days ago and now her husband tells her they don’t have to stay married that long. Maybe she’s wondering why he’s bringing it up if he’s happy with how things are.”

Jason clenched his jaw. “I brought it up because you told me yesterday. And she deserved to know—”

“—in case she wanted an out,” Sonny said. “Which is great. Except she already had an out, Jason. You’re the one that told me getting married was her idea. She convinced you.” He lifted his brows. “Did you happen to mention that you wanted to stay married?”

“I—” Jason closed his mouth. “I’m going to the warehouse.” He yanked the penthouse door open and left before Sonny could say anything else.

He didn’t need Sonny to fix his problems. He could do it himself. Even if—Jason winced as he punched the button at the elevator.

Even if Sonny was probably right, which only made Jason’s mood worse.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Elizabeth paced the length of the room, trying to determine if she’d lost her mind. She’d had a thought halfway through her shift at Kelly’s, and had begged Tammy to let her go early. Tammy had agreed, dropping another hint about Elizabeth quitting her job.

There was a knock on the door, and then Francis opened it. “Ms. Davis is here.”

Thank God. Elizabeth turned as Alexis entered and set her briefcase on the desk. When the door closed, Elizabeth didn’t waste any time. “You met with the PCPD yesterday, right?”

“Yes. I would have thought Sonny or Jason would have told you—” Alexis saw the forms on the desk, still unsigned. “You didn’t do the paperwork? I thought I was that was why you’d asked me to come over. To pick it up.”

“That’s—that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Sonny told Jason yesterday that he didn’t think we’d need to stay married for a year anymore. Jason told me that, and I didn’t ask about the PCPD—does that mean—”

“I’m not sure what Sonny meant by that. The agreement I made with the PCPD was that they can’t question either of you without me present. I don’t have the power to get them to drop the investigation.” Alexis tilted her head. “They’re not going to approach you, for at least a year. They have to come through me. Otherwise, we file the harassment suit. But the investigation—it doesn’t go away.”

“So we still need the year.”

“I don’t—” Alexis paused. “Are you asking me if you get divorced earlier? Is something wrong? What happened—”

“N-Nothing. I just—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Does Jason know that? What you just told me? That they still need to—”

“Sonny does. I got the impression from Mac that he wouldn’t mind breaking spousal privilege. The search warrant fiasco makes it hard for him to come at you,” Alexis continued, “but he can’t subpoena you right now. If they could prove your marriage wasn’t real or that you entered it solely to circumvent the law—that’s different. I never mentioned anything to Sonny about the time you have to stay married. And I wasn’t worried about Mac proving the marriage false.”

“You weren’t?” Elizabeth frowned. “Why? It is—I mean, that’s why—”

“Is that the only reason you married Jason?” Alexis asked, and Elizabeth flushed. “You see? They can’t prove that. You and Jason have a romantic connection that precedes the ceremony. You’d look like that if they asked you the question, and no judge would invalidate the privilege. It’s not like you were strangers.” She cleared her throat. “Elizabeth, did something happen? Because you and Jason seemed to be…well, I don’t know, on the same team when I spoke to you the other night. Have you—did you argue with him?”

“No. Nothing like that. It’s just—” She shook her head. “He told me what Sonny said, and he said we could just be married until we didn’t want to be anymore, and so I thought—”

“Maybe he was bringing it up because he didn’t want to be,” Alexis finished gently, and Elizabeth nodded, almost miserably. “Ah. Well, that’s not something I can really help you with.”

“I guess not.” Elizabeth sank onto the sofa. “I thought I’d be relieved if you told me we still need to stay married for a year. I expected it.”

“But now you’ve got the doubts.”

“Some. It’s—it’s not that I’d back out,” Elizabeth said quickly. “Because I can’t. I just…I can’t stand wondering if he wants out, too—”

“Speaking as an outsider who doesn’t know either you incredibly well—” Alexis perched on the sofa next to her. “But also as someone who attended your wedding—”

“That wasn’t—it wasn’t real—”

“Until Carly showed up, I think everyone in that room forgot why you started this whole thing,” Alexis said. “I certainly did. Jason didn’t look like a man who was being marched to the altar.”

“I know, but—”

“My track record in this area is—not good,” she said after a short pause. “And I’m sure you know by now that my marriage to Jax was not real.”

“No, it was like me and Jason—”

“I assure you, it was nothing like that,” Alexis said. “Jax and I were just friends. Separate bedrooms. Only kissed him at the ceremony.” She made a face. “Again, I can’t say that I know Jason that well, but I just—I don’t think he’s looking for an out.”

“Then why would he tell me we can get divorced whenever we—” Elizabeth paused. “To give me the out. So I’d know there was a choice.”

“There’s not—”

“No, but he thought there was. And he wanted me to know it.” Elizabeth took a deep breath, then went over to the desk where she’d half filled out the forms the day before. She picked up a pen, and scrawled her name at the bottom.

Then she looked at the bank cards sitting next to the form. Two debit cards for Elizabeth Morgan, and one credit card in that name. She picked them up and slid them in her back pocket. She’d never use them, but Jason would feel better knowing she had the option.

She straightened the papers, then held them out for Alexis. “How soon can you file these?”

I may appear to be free
But I’m just a prisoner of your love
And I may seem alright and smile when you leave
But my smiles are just a front
Just a front, hey
And I play it off, but I’m dreaming of you
And I’ll keep my cool, but I’m fiendin’
– I Try, Macy Gray

---

Thursday, January 6, 2000

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

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

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

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

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

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

“I know it.”

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

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

“But the threat to Elizabeth and Bobbie isn’t there anymore, either. She left Bobbie out of the statement — and no one is going to let her go back and add on to it after the debacle last night. Legally, Carly can’t do anything. She might still try to torment you or go after Elizabeth, but what damage can she really do?”

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

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

Maybe it had been a favor.

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

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

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

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

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

“But—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, yeah. It’s just—”

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

Kelly’s: Dining Room

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not everyone gets a chance to pursue their dream job, Elizabeth. Independence is important, and don’t lose that. But don’t let it cloud everything. Don’t be so stubborn. I’ll miss the hell out of you, but you should think about giving it a go.”

PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

Mac stared at the remains of Elizabeth’s wedding dress, then focused on the photograph Alexis had supplied of the dress’s condition only twenty-four hours earlier.

Elizabeth and Jason stood at the altar of St. Timothy’s Church. It was a full-length pose, with Jason’s arm curled around his bride’s waist, and she had turned slightly into his arms, one hand on the lapel of his tuxedo.

And the knee-length tulle skirt was a perfect snow white, both straps intact.

“They make a nice couple,” Mac said blandly, hoping his expression didn’t demonstrate just how absolutely screwed Andy Capelli had left them. The dress had clearly been destroyed beyond what any judge would believe was reasonable. Some property damage could be expected in a property search, but not the level of destruction in this dress, the painting Alexis had laid next to it and other photos.

And Mac would never admit it to another soul, but there was something a little chilling in the bedroom photos — the double closet doors had been thrown open to reveal that it had only really been half full to begin with. A few items on one side that were masculine, including a tuxedo which had not tucked into its own garment bag, as well as two other suit jackets. The other side of the closet was fuller, with dresses and other clearly feminine materials.

Elizabeth’s side of the closet had been destroyed — only two dresses remained on hangers. The others were strewn across the floor in front of it, and the garment bag on the hook of the closet door ripped and nearly torn from the hanger that held it up.

Next to the closet was a dresser with only the top drawers turned out — lingerie, as Taggert had argued. Lacy fabrics, jewel-colored—Mac shoved the photograph away, slightly sickened.

Not a single masculine item had been searched.

“If you’re sitting there with that expression, imagine what a judge will think,” Alexis said, drawing Mac’s attention. “No. Better. Think about a jury. When we sue you for harassment, civil rights violation, witness intimidation—think about a woman in the jury listening to Capelli. Whether I get to direct or cross him, it won’t matter.”

No, it really wouldn’t. Alexis Davis was skilled enough to make Capelli look like scum even before the idiot opened his mouth. Mac took a deep breath. “I suspended him last night on Taggert’s statement alone. I told you—”

“It’s not enough. It will never be enough.” Alexis paused. “You’ve known women. How many would enjoy this done to their wedding dress less than twenty-four hours later after they’d worn it?”

Even if their marriage had ended badly — Mac could still see Felicia in her pink wedding gown, her vibrant smile—

“What do you want from me?”

“No one comes near either of my clients without talking to me first. For at least a year,” Alexis said flatly. “They shouldn’t be going near Jason without a lawyer anyway. He’s made that clear on more than one occasion, but no one listens.”

“That’s it? We stay away?” Mac frowned at her. “No questioning?”

“For now. Jason might change his mind, but Elizabeth just wants to forget it happened. Be grateful he walked away in one piece—”

“Assaulting a cop wouldn’t have gone down well—”

“And I’d insist on a jury trial,” Alexis said, her teeth bared. “Find me a man who wouldn’t have shoved a fist down Capelli’s throat.”

Since both Mac and Taggert had nearly taken swings of their own the night before, Mac wasn’t in a position to argue. Still, he wasn’t going to give in that easily. Not yet.

“I have to run this past the city attorney,” Mac said. “I’ll give you a call when I hear back.”

Quartermaine Mansion: Nursery

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

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

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

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

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

She’d nearly gone to Kelly’s that morning, but had only looked in the window when she realized she didn’t even know what the point would be. What was left to say? What threats did Carly have left? She’d blown up the remnants of her last bridge with Jason by going after Elizabeth Webber—whatever chance she’d had at forgiveness for that night with Sonny— it was over after she’d sent the PCPD to the penthouse.

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

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

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

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

They’d never see her coming.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

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

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

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

She heard the click of cue balls and found Jason standing by a pool table, which now sat between the stairs and the window. He had a long cue in his hands, staring at her. “Oh. The pool table got delivered. That was fast.”

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

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

“What did she say?” Jason demanded.

“Nothing.” Elizabeth shook her head. “I saw her in the courtyard. She came to the door, saw me, and left. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.”

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

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

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

Elizabeth was determined not to let his odd mood discomfort her. “Um, did you get lunch or whatever—”

“I have to tell you something.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They’d barely even kissed a week ago, and then they’d poured gasoline on everything by getting married.

Now Sonny had lit it on fire.

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

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

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

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

“It’s fine.” Elizabeth smiled at him. “Really. I’ll, um, see you when I see you, I guess.”

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

“I know.”

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

Elizabeth closed her eyes, took a deep breath. She waited until she knew the elevator was gone. Until Jason was probably out of the building, then opened the door again to Francis. “Hey. I wanted to go to my grandmother’s. To get a few more of my things.” She just wanted to get out of the penthouse, and she’d promised not to return to her studio until the security had been improved.

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

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

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