Written in 58 minutes.

I changed the way Zander was arrested, so just go with whatever I say in this story, lol.

Tuesday, October 16, 2000

Port Charles Municipal Building: Dara Jensen’s Office

Emily hesitated at the entrance to Dara’s office, finding the assistant district attorney behind her desk, a phone to her ear. Dara made eye contact with her, and held up one finger, before switching the phone to the crook of her neck, reaching for a pen on her desk. “Okay. Okay. No, I don’t exactly have the time for—I don’t make the calendar, Steve. I need that report done. Don’t give me excuses. Get it done.” She slapped the phone back on the base, her pretty features creased in irritation. “I’m sorry. I had to finish that call.” She gestured for Emily to come forward. “I know you said you had a packed morning.”

“No, it’s okay—” Emily came forward, wrapping her arms around her middle, the strap of her purse sliding down her shoulder, falling to her elbow. She reached for it. “My professor—he gets it. And you said it was important.”

“Take a seat.” Dara sat at the round conference table near the entrance, flicked open a folder. When Emily was settled, Dara leaned forward, resting her folded arms on the table. “The reason I asked you to come in today is to review your statement and talk about a few loose ends. The defense attorney is filing for a preliminary hearing—”

“A preliminary—” Emily drew her brows together, tilted her head. “I don’t understand. Don’t we just go to trial?”

“Normally, we would do a grand jury indictment and go from there, but a preliminary hearing — it’s nothing to worry about—”

“Is that when they think there’s not enough evidence? Like that it’s so clear that a judge can dismiss it without a jury? That feels like something to worry about.”

Dara sighed, rubbed the side of her face. “Emily—”

“Dara. You and I—this isn’t our first time, right? You handled…you prosecuted Tom Baker. I’ve been through this. And if it wasn’t something I needed to worry about, I wouldn’t be here. I can handle whatever you throw at me—”

“Smith’s attorney is filing to dismiss the murder charge, and there’s a chance that goes through,” Dara told her. “The only evidence tying Zander Smith to Ted Wilson’s murder is that the body was in his car.” She lifted her brows. “He says you and your friends put it there. Now, I’m not—” she held up a hand when Emily tensed. “I’m not saying I believe him. Or that a judge will. But I can’t tie him to the crime. Possession—it won’t be—it won’t be enough.”

“But it’s why he took me hostage—he kidnapped me—”

“Which is why it works at trial,” Dara told her. “When it’s connected to your case. But if the murder charge is thrown out—then all we have is your word—”

“He did it in front of witnesses!”

“Your friends. And one cop. Who happens to be related to one of the witnesses,” Dara told her gently. “I know it happened the way you said. I know you were kidnapped, Emily. But a jury might not believe you. Especially if you…” She hesitated. “When you were rescued, you…gave the appearance of being on his side. That he’d convinced you that he was scared and just trying to get away.”

Her eyes burned, and Emily shook her head, staring hard at her nails. “I was scared, and I was trying—he seemed like he was telling the truth, and I…I started to doubt myself. I started to—” God, she couldn’t explain it. Not without completely torpedoing the case and throwing everyone under the bus. She’d thought Zander was telling the truth about not killing Ted because well — he wasn’t the one who put the body in his car, was he?

Emily took a deep breath, looked at Dara. “You’re trying to tell me that the attorney is going to put me on the stand, and try to make it sound like I wasn’t in danger. Maybe Zander wasn’t going to hurt me. I d-don’t know. I don’t. Only he knows that. But he did put a gun to my head. He did force me to drive towards the border, Dara. And he did only release me at gunpoint. So what if he told me a sob story I sort of believed? I was terrified, Dara. It’s not…” She stared hard at the table. “It was like before. With Tom Baker. Holding me and Elizabeth in that studio. Not knowing what would happen. Tom seemed like a good guy, too, you know. But he wasn’t. He was a liar. And a rapist. And a blackmailer. And Zander Smith? He’s a liar, too. He killed Ted Wilson. He was a drug dealer working those raves. And he kidnapped me to try to escape.”

“All right,” Dara said after a long beat. “You testify like that, Emily, and a judge will believe you. I believe you,” she repeated. “But a jury? They’re not predictable. They’re just not. And there’s—I think there’s a strong chance that the attorney is going to bring your brother into it.”

“What?” Emily blinked, shook her head. “I don’t—Jason—he was barely here. He tried to find me, to rescue me, but—”

“Zander Smith works for Joseph Sorel. There’s no chance that you got caught up in a territory—Emily—”

Emily shoved her chair back, the wood scraping against the hard wood. “I’m not talking about my brother. He isn’t part of this,” she repeated. “I’ll testify to what happened to me. But I won’t answer questions about my brother. If you don’t like it, Dara, then drop my case and just go after him for the murder.”

Dara rose to her feet. “I am just demonstrating that the defense attorney can and will use your brother against you, Emily. It can’t be a surprise to you that Smith’s lawyers are going this way—”

No. Not when Emily had told Zander that her brother meant so much to her. She’d trusted him.

“No, it’s not. But I expected you to be a better attorney than that. Jason has zero to do with this case. That’s not me protecting him, that’s me stating the facts. You want to go after Sorel and Sonny? Go for it. I think they’re both garbage. But you try to go after Jason, if you try to use what happened to me to go after him, believe me, you’ll be sorry.”

Emily didn’t wait for Dara’s reaction or response. She whirled and fled the office, her heart pounding so hard she almost couldn’t hear the sound of her own ragged breathing.

Chloe Morgan Designs: Executive Offices

Chloe’s smile was warm and bright when Elizabeth stepped off the elevator. She stretched out her hands, grasping Elizabeth’s. “I’m so glad that you can start so quickly! I’ll have to thank Tammy when I stop at Kelly’s next—”

Elizabeth winced, following Chloe into the foyer of her office suite. “I wouldn’t do that. We didn’t—she wasn’t exactly happy.”

“Oh—Oh, she must be irritated I’m stealing one of her best waitresses—”

“Not—” Elizabeth shook her head. “No. It just—it wasn’t exactly amicable. I just—she’s unhappy with me, and I wouldn’t have said so but I didn’t want you to get caught in the middle—”

Chloe waved a hand. “No, of course not. I’ll just avoid the diner. It’s easy now that we’ve moved into our new headquarters. Opened just this month—” She gestured to the room they were in. “What do you think?”

Elizabeth looked around, took in the pair of desks outside a larger door, likely Chloe’s personal office. One desk had a lived in look with photos and files and fabric samples, and the other was empty. “You’ve come a long way from the space you were sharing with Ned.”

“I know. He was so kind to loan it to us, but I really needed more room. Especially if I truly want to make this my home away from home.” Chloe gestured at the empty desk. “This is for you. And—” her smile brightened when another woman joined them. Elizabeth had seen her around L&B a few times. She was a taller woman, someone who could have walked the runways of the fashion world, with long legs, a mass of raven curls tumbling down her back, just a shade darker than her skin and warm eyes.

She was also enormously pregnant, and had one hand on her belly, the other at the small of her back.

“Lottie, amazing timing.” Chloe gestured at Elizabeth. “This is Elizabeth. You must have met her this summer, didn’t you?”

“Not by name, but I recognize your face,” Lottie said, extending a hand, her voice cool and posh, the British accent keeping her words slightly clipped. But her smile was friendly and genuine. “And I’m relieved Chloe found someone she likes to look after her while I’m gone.”

“And we’ve got her full-time,” Chloe told her assistant. “Even better.” She looked back at Elizabeth. “I know I told you that we’d be doing international travel in January, but it would be amazing if you could do a bit more of that sooner. I know it’s a lot to ask, but Lottie really shouldn’t be going back and forth to New York—”

“I was all right with next week’s trip, but it would have been the last,” Lottie said. “Do you have your passport yet?”

“Oh.” Elizabeth made a face. “No. Not yet. I’m so sorry — my grandmother never got a copy from my parents when I moved here, and I just sent the form to Colorado yesterday. I’m hoping to have it by the end of the month. I know that’s an issue—”

“No worries. Whenever you have your passport application ready, I’ll just have Edward make a call and get it fast-tracked. I don’t use my connections often, but I’ll do it for a good cause.” Chloe patted Elizabeth’s shoulder. “You’ll be Lottie’s shadow for the next few weeks. I’m so excited you could come on board. She did such lovely design work for the Nurse’s Ball, Lottie. I told you then we needed to steal her for ourselves. I’ll leave the two of you to get to work because I have that call with New York.” She headed for her office, and Elizabeth was on her own.

“Chloe isn’t lying,” Lottie said as Elizabeth set her purse down on the empty desk. “She really did have you on a short list for some time, but I think she was waiting for the right moment. She wasn’t sure if you’d leave your current jobs. She said you were extremely loyal, and would need a good reason.”

“I…” It was a little insane to think she’d been on anyone’s shortlist. She almost couldn’t process it. “It  came at the right time. I needed a change. And I…” She paused. “I can’t wait to get started.”

Luke’s: Office

“Well, I don’t know what you want from me, Laura.” Luke lifted his brows. “The boy isn’t returning my phone calls—”

“He hasn’t been back to the diner,” Laura said, pacing the length of her husband’s office. “And he hasn’t come home. Not that he would,” she added on a mutter. “I just—I can’t imagine it happened the way Tammy said it did—Lucky would never hurt Elizabeth.”

“No. He wouldn’t.” Luke hesitated. “But Tammy said it seemed like it was an accident. They were fighting.”

“And that’s another thing—why would they be fighting? They just got back together. They should be at their happiest!” Laura folded her arms. “Has he told you anything? About them?”

“Am I supposed to tell you every little thing he says to me, Laura?” Irritated with the conversation, he walked out of the office, hoping Laura would drop the topic entirely. But she was on a roll and followed after him, still going.

“We just figured out why he was acting so strange! We’ve broken Helena’s hold on him! Elizabeth should be happy! Not picking fights or quitting her job over it. Tammy said she just picked up and left—not that I believe her. She must be wrong—”

“Laura—” Luke stopped when he reached the main bar and saw Jason on a stool, a beer in front of him. He looked back at his estranged wife. “Listen—”

“Tammy said you were there,” Laura said charging forward, stabbing a finger at Jason who turned slightly on his stool so that he was looking at her. “Said you took Elizabeth home—”

“Emily took her home,” Jason interrupted. “I stayed in the courtyard to make sure Lucky didn’t follow them to the car.”

“I—” Laura stopped. “You’re saying this actually happened? That Lucky pushed Elizabeth down the stairs. I just—I don’t believe it—Did he push her?” Laura demanded.

Jason looked pained, but answered. “No. But he grabbed her bag, pulled her back, and she lost her balance. Not much of a difference to me. We need to talk—” he said, looking past Laura, but she’d turned away from him and was glaring at Luke.

“I told you. Lucky would never—”

“I didn’t said he would. Don’t go putting words in my mouth—”

“You hired that hooker to run your aunt’s diner and now she’s lying about our family, Luke. I expect you take care of this. Fire Tammy so Elizabeth get her job back and this can get sorted out.”

Laura didn’t wait for Luke’s agreement before storming away, back through the offices. Luke scrubbed his hands down his face, then looked at Jason. “What actually happened? And how bad is it?”

+26

Written in 58 minutes.

Monday, October 15, 2000

Kelly’s: Stairwell

Elizabeth just wanted to get out, to get away from the conversation, away from the nightmare of her relationship with Lucky — a week ago, she’d been so blissful, so sure that her life was back on track, that she and Lucky were about to start the life that had been destroyed by Helena’s machinations —

She wanted to run down the steps, to fly out the door, and hole up in her grandmother’s house until she could start working with Chloe, but the heft of her suitcase weighed her down so that instead of rushing down the steps, she’d had to slow down enough for Lucky to catch up—

Her body was still moving forward, her feet still intent on completing the mission, but then her shoulder was yanked backwards, twisting her torso to the side, the weight of her suitcase pulling her in the opposite direction—she barely had a chance to process what was happening — only the sight of Lucky’s stricken face, one strap of her tote bag in her hand, the sensation of being weightless, of falling backward—

But then she was caught, a pair of strong arms winding around her middle, stopping her descent — one of her arms were caught around a neck, and she was being lifted in the air again, moving downward again, but this time, controlled. Her heart racing, thudding in her ears, her chest heaving, her throat burning from the rush of breathing, she squeezed her eyes closed, and clung with both arms to the solid force that had plucked her out of the air—

“You’re okay—”

“What the hell—”

“Oh my God—”

“Did he push her—”

The rush of voices came from all sides, at all levels, none of them really breaking through the sound of her own breathing, the swirling of her own thoughts—

“You’re okay—” and this time, she could register those words, the timber of the voice—it was Jason. Where had he come from? What was happening?

“Stay away from her—” she knew that voice, too. Emily?

Elizabeth finally opened her eyes, lifted her head, and realized that Jason was holding her, that they were standing at the bottom of the steps, her fists clutched in the fabric of Jason’s blue t-shirt, his hands at her hips. She locked eyes with him, started by the mixture of fury and worry in the blue reflected back at her. “What—w-hat—” She looked around, blinking, then up the stairs—

Lucky still stood there, a few steps down from where she’d last seen him, still clutching her tote bag by one strap—it had spilled open, makeup and jewelry spread across the steps, her wallet laying two steps below, her sunglasses—

Her suitcase was at the bottom of the steps — it had busted open, the faulty clasp had failed and her clothing was everywhere—jeans and shirts and—

Her face flaming, her cheeks on fire, Elizabeth shoved Jason back and frantically knelt, clutching at every bra or pair of panties she could spy, and Emily appeared at her side, helping until her clothing had been stowed away—

When the suitcase was closed, she laid her palms on top, her hands were still shaking—she turned to look at Lucky.

He still hadn’t moved, his face still pale beneath his blond hair. “I—I’m sorry—” He swallowed hard as Jason climbed a few steps. Lucky said nothing more when Jason grabbed the tote from his hand and started shoving Elizabeth’s things back inside.

“I—I can—” Elizabeth got to her feet, then took in the rest of the scene — everyone who had abandoned their tables and were listening, watching — watching her life on display — even Tammy who stood just behind the counter, her lips curved into half a smirk.

She’d meant to stop Jason, to take on the task of gathering her things, but she was frozen, still kneeling on the floor, her hands on her suitcase. Everyone was watching her. Laughing at her. Judging her.

“Take this—” Jason handed the tote to Emily who looped it over her own shoulder, gripping it tightly, still glaring at Lucky. Then he lowered himself down, squatting next to Elizabeth, still frozen, gripping her suitcase. “I’ll take that out to the car,” he told her gently. “It looks broken.”

“I—” She looked at him, then back at the dull brown case. It had come with her from Colorado. Her father had given it to her so that she could pack for the Johnsons. The house will still be there, Lizzie. You can get more later if you want. But she’d only ever had this one suitcase, and had fled the state with this, her purse, and a nasty attitude. Selfish, obsessed, brat.

“Come on, Liz.” Emily reached out her hand, and Elizabeth took it, letting her friend pull her up to her feet. Jason picked up the suitcase, holding it flat and horizontal from the bottom. “Are you—did you bring a car or—”

“I—I came on the bus,” Elizabeth managed. Everything was still racing, she couldn’t quite make it slow down, couldn’t find a thread to hold on to.

“Okay, I brought mine. Let’s go.” She threw another look at Lucky, and Elizabeth followed her gaze. Her boyfriend came come down a few more steps.

“Elizabeth, wait—”

“Back off. Right now,” Emily bit off. “I don’t know what the hell you were thinking, but you could have killed her. And the only reason you’re still standing right now is there are too many witnesses.” She turned away from him, her oldest friend, with a flick of her hair. “Let’s get out of here, Liz.”

“Okay,” Elizabeth said, but she still didn’t move. Felt glued to the ground—then Emily wrapped her hand around Elizabeth’s bicep, gently tugged and it was enough to get her moving.

Kelly’s: Parking Lot

Emily’s heart was still pounding after she slammed the passenger door closed, and turned to her brother waiting at the trunk, Elizabeth’s broken suitcase in his hands. With Elizabeth in the car, his expression had shifted — only slightly, the anger was still visible, but the worry had vanished.

“You can’t kill him,” Emily said, shoving her key in the lock of the trunk, and throwing it open. “It was an accident. And you know, witnesses.”

Jason set the suitcase inside, carefully — taking a good look at the clasp that had busted when it had hit the ground during the fall, then straightened to look at his sister. “I don’t care—”

“He didn’t push her. He didn’t want her to fall. And I’m saying it to myself as much as I’m saying it to you,” she said when he scowled. “He should have just let her go, shouldn’t have grabbed her. He never—” She paused, swallowed hard. “He used to be so careful with her. I—” The adrenaline had faded, and it was her hands shaking now. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to do this.” She pressed her fingers to her mouth. “He didn’t mean to hurt her—”

“And if we hadn’t been there, she’d have hit the ground the way the suitcase did,” Jason interrupted, and she looked at him. “He was angry and he grabbed her without thinking about her safety. That’s the beginning and the end, Emily.”

“I know. I know.” She exhaled slowly, wrung out her hands. “I need a minute. I did okay in there because I was going on impulse, and now it’s over, and my brain is screaming. I’m just trying to get this out, to stop freaking out in my head, because she doesn’t need me to do that. She needs me to keep it together, like you did, because I know your first instinct was to kill—not literally—never mind.” She scrubbed both hands down her face. “You know what I mean.”

“I do. And I know he’s your friend, too, Emily. But this is what you were worried about on Saturday, wasn’t it? Being both their friends, not choosing.” Jason closed the trunk. “She needs someone who is her friend right now. If you can’t do that, then you need to take her home, tell Audrey what happened, and let Audrey be the person who puts her first.”

“You could—”

“I’m too angry,” he interrupted, and he looked back towards the diner, his expression darkening when he saw Lucky in the courtyard. “And he looks like he’s going to come over here. That’s the last thing she needs.” He looked back at his sister. “Make a choice, Emily. Make the right one.”

And then he strode away.

Kelly’s: Courtyard

Lucky braced himself as Jason approached, fisting his hands at his side, ready to take whatever punch Jason would throw. He’d let him throw the first fist, Lucky told himself. That was fair game. But—

Instead of shoving his head through the brick wall the way Lucky expected, Jason stopped a few feet from him, his expression as cold as stone. The way he looked when he was in front of Taggert or another cop.

Or someone else he hated.

“You’re going to leave her alone. You’re not going to talk to her unless she makes contact first,” Jason said, and Lucky bristled.

He’d screwed up, but Jason had no right to order him around like that — “Who the hell do you think you are—”

But then Jason took a step forward and Lucky scrambled back, his heart racing. When Jason just stopped, lifted a brow, Lucky’s face flushed, and heat flooded his veins. Shame was everywhere. “Fuck off. You don’t own her and you can’t touch me—”

“If you go near her before she wants you to, I’ll know,” Jason said, his voice remaining even, even calm. “And you’ll regret it.”

“You can’t—”

“I can and I will. Emily’s trying to remind herself that you’re her friend, too. And telling herself you didn’t mean for Elizabeth to fall or get hurt—”

“I didn’t—”

“You were angry and you put your hands on her,” Jason said, and Lucky closed his mouth. “A man who does that can’t be trusted. You put your hands on her and she nearly fell down the stairs. There won’t be a next time, Lucky.”

“Why don’t you let Elizabeth decide what she wants?” Lucky bit out, throwing back the words that had started the fight at Jake’s the other night. “Isn’t that your thing? Isn’t that how you—”

“And if she wants to talk to you, she will. Stay away until and if she does. This is the only warning,” Jason told him — then turned his back and walked away. A few minutes later, Lucky heard the roar of engine, and then the motorcycle leaving the parking lot.

Lucky exhaled slowly, then dragged his hands down his face, through his hair. How the hell had this gone so wrong?

Hardy House: Driveway

Emily switched off the engine, and silence engulfed the car. Neither one of them had spoken since they’d left the diner.

Elizabeth didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to even begin. “I never thought I’d be that kind of girl,” she said softly.

Emily looked at her, frowned. “What?”

“To freeze. To cower. To run.” Tears pricked her eyes, and she swiped at them angrily. “To let you and Jason pick me up like a baby—”

“Elizabeth—”

“That’s not who I am—” She squeezed her eyes closed, let her head fall against the headrest. “It’s not who I want to be.”

“I want you to give yourself a break. No, really, Liz. Listen to me. You were leaving, you were walking down the stairs, and the next thing you know, you’re flying through the air — you get to absorb that. You had the wind knocked out of you, and then all those people—” Emily gripped the wheel. “I know he didn’t mean to hurt you, but Jason’s right. He grabbed you. When he was angry. And he didn’t just grab, he pulled. He yanked. This time, it was your bag. It could—what’s he grabbing next time? Your arm? Your hair?”

“Lucky wouldn’t—” Elizabeth stopped looked out the window, at her mother’s front yard, at herself being reflected back. “I guess I can’t really say that anymore, can I? Because I don’t know what he’ll do.”

She fisted her hands in her lap, stared hard at her fingers. “I’m taking the job. With Chloe.”

“Good. I was trying to find you and tell you the same thing. You should. This is an amazing opportunity, and you’d kick yourself if you let it get away.”

Elizabeth looked at her, confused. “But you said—”

“I was wrong. I wasn’t—I mean, I wasn’t. Yes, a job that’s demanding with a lot of travel, it’s time away from Lucky. And he’s not wrong to point that out. But I was wrong for acting like that’s the only thing that matters. I was wrong,” Emily told her. “You should absolutely put yourself first. Is—is that why he was so angry today?”

“He—” Elizabeth licked her lips, looked out the window again. “Yesterday. I tried to tell him. I tried to tell him it was something I liked before…before,” she repeated, her voice a little more quiet. “Fashion and clothes—and that I wanted to get that back. He didn’t know. He didn’t know I used to—” She forced herself to continue. “He doesn’t know anything about me before that night, Em. Because it wasn’t worth knowing. I’m better now,” she said softly. She looked at Emily. “That’s what he told me. That I’m a better person now.” The tears spilled down her cheeks. “Before, I didn’t matter. I matter now. Because I was raped. I’m worth knowing. Because I was raped.”

Emily stared at her for a long moment, then pursed her lips, looked out the windshield. “Okay, so I was wrong. I should have let Jason kill him.”

+39

Written in 55 minutes.

Monday, October 15, 2000

Kelly’s: Kitchen

Tammy fisted a hand at her hip and sighed. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth bit her lip, folded her arms. “I’m sorry, Tammy, but this opportunity is—”

“You know I already lost the college kids — which was the only reason I could cut your hours so you could go work at that record company, and maybe you think dating Luke’s son means you can—”

Elizabeth made a face. “Excuse me? You’re acting like it’s a felony for me to quit a job. A job, by the way, that I’ve been doing longer than you.” When Tammy scowled, Elizabeth arched her brows. “Maybe you think knowing Luke means you can treat the rest of us like crap, but I can and will quit whenever I want. The two weeks is a courtesy to you. Chloe says I can start tomorrow.”

“You know what? I’d hate to hold you back.” Tammy lifted her hands in mock surrender. “I’ll cover your shifts myself. You can be done now. At least now your customers will actually get what they ask for.”

Irritation and impatience was bubbling, and for the first time in years, Elizabeth said what was on the tip of her tongue. “Well, if anyone knows about servicing a client, Tammy, I guess that would be you.” Without waiting to see how the jab hit, she headed for the stairs.

Kelly’s: Courtyard

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry—” Emily practically crashed into Jason, the momentum of sprinting from the parking lot still carrying her. “I woke up late, and then I hit all the lights—”

Jason steadied his sister with his hands on hers shoulders. “You’re fine, Emily. I just got here.”

“Oh. Good. Good.” She let out an exasperated huff, then dragged a hand through her hair. “I have the worst schedule this semester. I thought giving myself off on Mondays was a good idea, but ugh. I just feel like I’m rushing everywhere, and then Dara Jensen calls and she wants me to come in and go over my statement?”

“Dara? What does the ADA want with you? Didn’t you already do that?” Jason demanded.

Emily wrinkled her nose. “Twice, but mostly to Taggert. Dara says Zander Smith’s lawyer is trying to get the motion dismissed or something. I don’t know. Why?”

Because Zander Smith could do a lot of damage to Sorel, but it wasn’t something Jason was going to discuss with his little sister. “It’s nothing. Let’s just—”

“Oh. Lucky—” Emily waved at something over Jason’s shoulder and he turned to see the other man striding towards them, his hands shoved in his pockets. He glared at Jason as he came closer, the bruise on his face beginning to fade but still visible.

“Can’t talk,” Lucky said, throwing the words to Emily as he passed them, more like a grunt than an articulated response.

Emily pressed her lips together, stared after him, then looked back at Jason. “What was that about?” she demanded. “Aren’t you guys friends?”

“No. And it’s a long story,” he added when Emily opened her mouth.

Kelly’s: Elizabeth’s Room

She closed the top of her suitcase, clicking it shut, then set it on the floor. She looked back at the dresser in question, pursing her lips. Was there enough space in the tote bag she’d brought for the jumble of cosmetics, jewelry, and hygiene products? She really didn’t want to come back.

Elizabeth started to pack her essentials first — a tube of lipstick that had been discontinued, eye makeup she wore almost every day, then her favorite pieces of jewelry — anything she’d spent more than ten bucks to buy.

Just as she was finishing her task, the door behind her swung open. “What the hell are you doing?”

Elizabeth went still, her fingers wrapped around a tube of facial moisturizer, then slowly turned around to find Lucky standing at the threshold, his face flushed, his jaw clenched. “I’m packing,” she said simply. “I’m going to stay at my grandmother’s.”

“Without even talking to me?”

Yes. That had been the dream. A little more distance, a little more time to think about what to do. Elizabeth folded her arms, so tightly that she was nearly hugging herself. “I don’t think we’re ready to have a conversation. Or I’m not.” She paused. “And I don’t have to run my living situation by you.”

Lucky grimaced, dragged a hand through his hair. “Tammy told me you quit and called her a whore. What the hell has gotten into you?”

“Well, one of those things happened. I gave two weeks notice, Tammy protested, then basically fired me. And when she decided to criticize the way I did my job, I suggested maybe her history made her a better for a customer service.” She arched a brow. “I never said the word whore.”

“You just implied it,” Lucky retorted with a roll of his eyes. “I expected better from you. Tammy’s been good to my family—”

“I don’t think your mother would agree that your father’s friendship with a prostitute would fit that description, but Tammy’s the one that threw a tantrum about my two week notice.”

“I thought we agreed that you weren’t going to take this job. That it wasn’t good for us—”

“No, you said it wasn’t good for you. It turns out it’s great for me.” Elizabeth looped the straps of her tote over her shoulder. “I told you, Lucky, we’re not having this conversation right now. I’m—” Angry, frustrated. Disappointed in herself. In him. “I’m not doing it.”

She lifted her suitcase and took a few steps towards him — but he wasn’t moving from the threshold. “Lucky, please get out of the way—”

“You were begging me for months to get back together, and now that we are, you’re just running because we had an argument—”

“An argument? I’m sorry, Lucky, you said I was a better person after I got raped. That’s hardly an argument.” She took a deep breath. “I told you, I don’t want to do this right now. I think we both need some space.”

“You’ve had nothing but space for eighteen months,” Lucky bit out. “Now you want more? What happened? I refuse to believe that something stupid I said yesterday means we have to throw everything away—”

Frustrated at the angry tears stinging her eyes, Elizabeth shook her head. “I didn’t say that. I’m not saying that. I’m telling that I need some space, okay?”

“You quit your job, Elizabeth. And Tammy told me you’re taking Chloe’s offer. The one that takes you out of town for months—the one we agreed wasn’t a good idea right now—”

“I tried to explain this to you, Lucky. I tried to make you understand why this matters—”

“Because you read some fashion magazines a million years ago? That means you’d make a good assistant now? You’re barely organized enough to get to work on time, and you live above the diner.” Lucky’s tone gentled. “Look, I—I didn’t handle yesterday well, and maybe I was wrong to dismiss this job thing so quick. I just thought—I thought we’d both agreed we’d spent enough time apart. That we deserved this time together.” He came towards her, his expression kinder, the tone soothing.

Like she was a child.

“I am asking you to move,” Elizabeth said, and he stopped a few feet from her. “I told you — I’m upset, and I’m not trying to do this with you right now.

What was there to know…brat…shallow…obsessed with me…

She exhaled slowly, then met his eyes. “You told me that the person I was before the night Tom Baker raped me wasn’t worth knowing. Which means the only reason I’m worthy of your love now is because of what he did.”

“That’s—” He swallowed hard, put up a hand. “I understand that’s how you took it—”

“It’s what you said. You didn’t want to know me then. And you only came around after the rape because you felt guilty for breaking the date in the first place. I was a project for you,” Elizabeth retorted. “And you liked the idea of saving me, that I practically worshiped you.” She shook her head. “You don’t like me. You don’t care about what’s important to me.”

“That is not true—”

“Get out of my way—” Elizabeth came forward, used her suitcase to knock him back a step, off balance enough so she could get past him. She couldn’t do this for another minute. Not for a single second more.

Kelly’s: Dining Room

Emily’s eyes tracked Tammy as the harried blonde moved through the room, scrutinizing her. “Tammy doesn’t usually work the floor.”

Jason glanced up from the menu, frowned slightly. “Elizabeth usually works the breakfast shift, doesn’t she?” When Emily lifted her brows, he shrugged. “She said something about it last week.”

“I haven’t been able to get a hold of her since I saw her the other day. I’m so annoyed by that,” Emily said with a roll of her eyes. She skimmed the menu, though it hadn’t changed in years. Suddenly, she wasn’t in the mood for the French Toast. “Here I am, all ready to be supportive and girl power, and now I can’t get her on the phone. I feel stood up. And irrationally angry.”

“Well, at least you know it’s irrational.” Jason frowned, straightening. “Did you hear that?”

“What?”

“It sounded like—” Jason didn’t finish, but stood up and started to move towards the stairwell. Then Emily could hear it, too. Voices. Angry.

“Get out of my way, I’m tired of saying it—”

“Just let me have five minutes. Damn it, you owe me that—”

Emily had just caught up with Jason at the bottom of the stairs when Lucky and Elizabeth appeared at the top of the stairs, Elizabeth wearing a tote over one shoulder and a suitcase in the other hand.

“I don’t owe anyone anything, not after what you said to me. Do you think I’m stupid?”

“You’re acting like a child, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth snorted. “Don’t you mean, I’m acting like a brat? I guess I’m just the same girl I always was.” She started down the stairs, but then Lucky reached for her—grabbing the handle of her tote, which jerked Elizabeth back—causing her to slip, her feet to go out from under her—

And then she was tumbling down the stairs.

+35

Written in 53 minutes.

Sunday, October 15, 2000

Luke’s: Main Bar

Jason slid into the chair across from Sonny, then angled himself slightly so that he could at least see the entrance from his position. He’d always understood why Sonny liked this area of the club — on his side, against the wall, there was a bench-type seating that stretched across the entire section, with a half wall and then a wooden lattice that stretched up the ceiling. It was just to the right of the entrance, and Sonny could see the entire bar — and also keep an eye on who was walking into the bar while his own presence was shielded until that person was all the way inside.

But anyone meeting with Sonny would be vulnerable to the room, and Jason had always done his best to avoid sitting in it when the club was open.

Unfortunately, the night was in full swing — the band was playing, the dance floor was filled, and the bar was packed with regulars.

“Been a while, hasn’t it?” Sonny asked, tapping the edge of his cigar in the ashtray. “Remember when we were here almost every night?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” A lifetime ago, Jason thought. Before Sonny had abandoned Brenda at the altar, Luke’s had been his primary meeting place, especially when Luke was out of town on one adventure or another. When Luke and Sonny had been partners in friendship as well as business.

That part of their lives had ended more than a year ago, when the garage had been burnt to ashes, Lucky one of the casualties of Sonny’s war to take back the territory.

“Sorel’s been sniffing around here,” Sonny told Jason. “Here, the Oasis, and a few other places. Most of them on the border, like Luke’s. But a few of his guys have been to Kelly’s.” Which was most definitely not a border property.

Jason exhaled slowly. “You think he’s going to try some thing?”

“I think Sorel is under the impression that I’ve pulled back from this part of the business. You know, since we opened the warehouse, and I’ve been stabilizing the international routes.” Sonny tipped his head. “Haven’t been thinking about the clubs. The bread and butter. I got the contacts for that side of it, but you know these players better than I do.”

And they hated Jason more for selling out to Moreno, but sure, that meant Jason knew the players. “Okay, so—”

“So I’ve been thinking about what you said this morning. About how we gotta figure out how we’re going to make this work with you sticking around longer. And I think this is how we do it. Divide and conquer. You take the point here,” Sonny said, nodding towards the bar where Luke was visible through the crowds. “And the other places. I’ll call Tommy. He’ll get you set up. Maybe Luke will let you work out of here like we did in the old days.”

It was a solution of sorts, and Jason knew that Sonny meant it as an olive branch. “Have you talked to Luke about this?”

“Luke knows I’m planning to stick close.”

“That you’re planning to,” Jason said. He paused. “He might not want me around. There was—he just might not me sticking so close.”

“Sorel’s got his eye on these places, Jase. And we both agreed that Sorel might be dumb enough to think certain people are back on the table with you around. I figure you’d want to take the lead on this. Since Elizabeth is involved.”

Which was  the exact reason Jason might be the worst person for the job. Elizabeth might not have an issue with the bar fight at Jake’s, but Lucky certainly did, and Luke tended to follow his kid. Or might take exception to the bruised jaw Jason had left Lucky with.

“Look, if you’re not sure—” Sonny held up his hands. “Run it by Luke. If he vetoes it, we’ll figure something else out.”

Hardy House: Kitchen

Elizabeth slid into the chair, smiling wanly when her grandmother set down the bowl of clam chowder. “You really didn’t have to go to the trouble—”

“I’ve never become comfortable with cooking only for myself,” Audrey said, taking another chair at the small table in the corner of their kitchen. “I looked after your grandfather for so many years, and then Tommy stayed here for a while after we…” Her smile faded slightly. “After we lost Steve. And then you and Sarah—you’re doing me a favor, dear.”

“Maybe.” Elizabeth dipped her spoon into the bowl, then swirled it around. “I know you probably want to know why I came here today. Or sat upstairs the whole time.”

“I do. But only if you want to tell me.”

“I…” Elizabeth sighed. Hours she’d spent alone in her teenaged bedroom, planning the words in her head — what she would say to Lucky, to Chloe, to her grandmother, to Emily—to anyone who might not understand. And the moment she’d opened her mouth, all of that careful preparation had fled. “I really was a brat when I moved here, wasn’t I?”

Audrey folded her arms on the table, and Elizabeth looked away, uncomfortable with her grandmother’s penetrating stare. “A brat,” she repeated. “You know, I find that I don’t quite like that word. I don’t find it to be a useful description of anyone, particularly not you. You were rebellious. Resistant. And a little brittle.”

“Brittle,” Elizabeth repeated, squinting. “I don’t think anyone’s used that one before.”

“Brittle bones are easily broken. Fragile,” Audrey added. “One look, one brush, and they might crumble. You were rebellious, yes, my darling. But it was a mask. A disguise you wore to hide who you really were. And it took some time before you trusted me to see that person.”

“Rebellious and brittle. Selfish, too, right?” Elizabeth asked, picking up the spoon. “Shallow?”

Audrey was quiet for a long moment, her brow furrowed. “I suppose I could have used those words. You certainly resented any attention Sarah received, and at first, I assumed it was because you wanted it for yourself. After all, look at what you did to capture my notice. You ran away from the Johnsons, used my credit cards to order pizzas, got caught smoking, used my car without a license—” Audrey tipped her head. “You pulled some…stunts with your sister, trying to embarrass her. Yes, there were some elements of selfishness in all of those things, I think. And I was…at a loss to understand how to help you. Until I realized who I was really seeing when I looked at you and your sister.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“I had an older sister, you know that. Lucille. The golden daughter who could never do anything wrong. Who chose the safe, expected life. She became a nurse, went to work, and while she never married, she remained respectable and above reproach.” Audrey smiled. “My parents worshiped her, and I was often frustrated because I never seemed to measure up. I tried. I went into nursing just to show her she wasn’t so special. And then I became a stewardess so I could pretend that I was so much better than she was, jetsetting around the world, never having to answer to anyone.”

“Until you met Gramps.”

“I never intended to stay in Port Charles. To build a life. But I was glad that I did. That the twists and turns of my life gave me Steve, my Tommy—” Audrey reached out, covered Elizabeth’s hand. “You and your sister. And of course, your brother. Once I realized that you were me, and Sarah was your Lucille, I tried to use that. I think we were…I think we were making progress, don’t you? You seemed…happier. More settled. Until…”

“Until I was raped.” Elizabeth’s stomach turned over, and she pushed the bowl away. “I keep thinking of who I used to be. Who I am now. And how much of is it because of the rape.”

Audrey flinched the first time Elizabeth had used the word, but she did better the second time. “Is that an important question for you to answer?”

“I didn’t used to think so. I didn’t…” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Do you remember when we went shopping for that dress? For the dance? How many I tried on?”

“Yes, you were kept specific. You wanted a certain color, and a certain style. You knew what flattered you, and you were correct. You looked so lovely that night. I hope that’s all right to say.”

“It’s—yes. Yes,” Elizabeth repeated, and the second time, she knew she meant it. “I was so miserable,  so unhappy with myself for lying to Lucky. For not  being able to shake off his rejection. Because for a little while, I’d felt so beautiful and ready for anything. I was so sure…” She looked down at the table, picked at a seam in the Formica. “I was so sure that Lucky would take one look at me and fall in love.”

“Elizabeth.”

“It’s okay. It is. Um, my point is—” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “That used to be something I cared about. My colors, and the type of clothing that flattered me. I’m…I’m short, but I have long legs for my height. A-and I’ll never fill out a shirt the way Pamela Anderson does, but I know how to make the most of what I have. I just…” She met her grandmother’s eyes. “And I don’t just know that for me. I know it for you, for Emily — and for everyone. I’m good at that kind of thing.”

“You have an artistic eye,” Audrey said. She lifted her brows. “But, yes, a flair for fashion. Is this your way of telling me that you’ve decided to take the job?”

“Yes. I-I don’t know if it’s something I’ll want forever, but Chloe’s offering me an opportunity to do something I only dreamed of when I was younger. I—” Elizabeth brushed a tear from her cheek, sniffled. “I used to think that those things — being selfish and shallow a-and rebellious — that it was the reason Tom Baker hurt me. Because if I hadn’t been those things, I-I wouldn’t have been in the park that n-night. So I put them in a box and I put them away. I became someone else. Someone that people liked and respected. Loved,” she said softly, looking back at her hands. “I don’t know if the people in my life would be here if I were still that girl.”

“Elizabeth—”

“I don’t know if Lucky can love me the way I am now. The way I think I want to be. But I don’t know if I love him the way he is now, either. So I guess what I’m saying is…I need to find out. And Chloe’s giving me a chance to do that. I need to take it. I have to do this.”

Luke’s: Bar

“Don’t usually see you in here,” Luke said when Jason slid onto an empty stool. “Not with people around.”

Jason made a face. “I’m here on business. Sonny told you about Sorel, didn’t he?”

Luke popped the top from a green bottle of Rolling Rock, then set it down in front of him. “That he’s nibbling at the edges of Sonny’s fledgling empire? Yeah. He mentioned that.”

“He wants me to handle it. The clubs. You, Kelly’s, the other places.”

“He wants you to deal with the anklebiters while he handles the big fish.” Luke smirked, folded his arms and leaned against the bar back. “Not the first time he’s trying to get you to clean up his mess.”

“This is…actually my mess,” Jason admitted. “I sold out to Moreno. Everything that’s happened since comes back to that.”

“Maybe. Or maybe Sonny hasn’t been focused on the big picture. He likes to think he’s Don Corleone, you know—” Luke nodded over to Sonny’s booth. “Sitting there, granting favors like it’s his daughter’s wedding day. But he’s just like his namesake. Hot-headed to the core and probably gonna end up shot up at a toll booth.” At Jason’s mystified look, Luke scowled. “Oh come on, tell me you’ve seen the Godfather.”

“The movie?”

“No culture, none of you.” Luke made a face. “Okay. So Sonny’s leaving this to you. What’re you telling me for?”

Jason lifted his brows. “I didn’t think you’d want me around.” He paused. “Unless you don’t know that I knocked your kid unconscious at Jake’s the other night.”

Luke pursed his lips, tilted his head. “Cowboy had some bruises when he came by earlier today. Didn’t mention you. You have a good reason to slug him?”

Jason considered the answer. “I wanted to hit someone and his face was there.”

“That is…” Luke considered. “That’s a fair answer. Look, if you’re half as observant as you used to be, then I guess you know Cowboy and Lizzie are having their issues. You planning to get in the way of that?”

“In the way?” Jason echoed. “What does that mean?”

“Well, it means that last year Sorel thought Lizzie was a great way to get to you. Put a bomb in her studio to take you out, and didn’t much care she would get blown up with you. He’s got a long memory, guys in this business always do. You left town, I heard, in part, to make her safe. Now you’re back. And the only way to keep her safe is to stay away.” Luke paused. “Which is easy since she’s in a relationship with my kid. So I’ll ask again — you planning to get in the way of my kid and put Liz back on the board for Sorel to screw with?”

Jason picked up his beer, considered his answer for a long moment. “I’m planning to let Elizabeth decide what she wants to do,” he said finally. He got to his feet. “And yeah, Sorel thought she was a way to get to me. He’d be right. Is that a problem for you?”

“Only if the next bomb ends up in my bar or hurting that girl. I’ll leave the rest of it up to you. And her. And Lucky.”

“Then we don’t have any problems. I’ll see you around, Luke.”

+33