Written in 66 minutes.

January 1, 1999

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

“Isn’t this a little early?” Jason asked Sonny as Max closed the door behind him, stifling a yawn. “It’s barely six—”

“Some of us haven’t been to bed yet,” Sonny muttered. He stalked towards the kitchen. “I need coffee. You want some?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Heard from Roscoe a few hours ago,” Sonny said, dumping some beans into the grinder. “He says Sorel is denying the bomb was on him.”

Jason scowled. “He told Elizabeth it was—”

“A voice on the phone only she heard—” Sonny held up a hand when Jason glared at him. “I’m not saying I don’t believe her. I’m saying this complicates things. Because he might be telling the truth. It might not be Sorel.”

“Sonny—”

“It could be guys who worked for Moreno wanting us to take Sorel out.” And at that, Jason fell silent. Sorel’s takeover of Moreno’s organization wasn’t a done deal, and he knew there had been issues. Shipments that didn’t make it to port, guys going missing —

And if it was true—if it hadn’t been Sorel ordering the bomb, then it put Elizabeth in the middle of a civil war with another organization. That was the worst possible scenario. “Damn it—”

“I spent half the night with the guys tracking down everything. Paulie went to our explosives contact with the bomb. He can’t tag the maker from it — it’s generic.”

Jason grimaced. A bomb that couldn’t be traced made it harder to pin this on Sorel. “So we don’t know anything.”

“Well, we know that Sorel and his guys know about you being targeted by the PCPD, and that Elizabeth is part of the whole thing. That Christmas party—it put you two on the map,” Sonny continued. “No one knew where you’d been in those weeks, but Nikolas Cassadine made it very clear. Apparently, after we left, Stefan confronted him and Nikolas told him—in front of witnesses—he’d caught you at the studio.”

Jason exhaled slowly, then leaned back against the counter. “Am I supposed to keep Elizabeth locked up in the penthouse until we do know—”

“We need this PCPD crap to go away. I think Elizabeth should take herself out of this by coming clean about the whole thing. You were right to make sure she didn’t alibi you. She needs to tell them she saw you and then you left. She doesn’t know where you were the rest of the night. Sorel’s guys can’t go after her for what she doesn’t know.” Sonny poured the coffee, avoiding Jason’s eyes. “The thing is—”

“If she does that, Taggert’s coming right at me. I dropped out of sight when Moreno did. He’ll know Elizabeth is involved in that, thanks to Cassadine.” Jason took the cup of coffee from Sonny but set it on the counter. “We have another problem.”

“Of course we do,” Sonny muttered. “What is it?”

“Carly.”

Sonny’s hand fumbled slightly as he spooned sugar into his cup. “What about her?” he said evenly.

“She’s making noise about telling the cops I was shot. She does that and Elizabeth makes sure the PCPD know I have no alibi—”

“Why the hell—” Sonny whirled on him. “Why is she doing that?”

“She wants me to get her out of town with Michael.” Jason scrubbed a hand down his face. “She’s insisting I go with them. I told her no, and I don’t care if she goes to the PCPD about me, but—”

“But Cassadine has put Elizabeth with you in the same time period you’d be recovering. She’s on the hook as an accomplice. It’s circumstantial, but it’s a distraction we don’t need with all of this—”

“I talked to Alexis—she’s worried they might come after Elizabeth with drug charges. For the pain medication,” Jason admitted. “I’ve been thinking about it—Carly made Bobbie come to the studio one day and Bobbie and I talked about it. I said I’d only used pain meds the first day, but that Elizabeth flushed the rest.”

Sonny stared him for a long moment, then nodded. “Well, there you go. All Taggert has to do is hear that, charge Elizabeth with distribution which carries like twenty years if they want to be bitchy about it. She’ll have to flip on you to save her own skin, but somehow I doubt she’d go that way without kicking and screaming—”

“Sonny—”

“The only way to make this go away is to get one of you out of town.” Sonny paused. “Or both of you, but that will just make it harder for you to come back. At least if it just one disappears before things are charged, we got a shot of this going cold.”

Jason said nothing. He knew Sonny was right. To keep Elizabeth from being used by Carly and Sorel’s organization, Jason needed to remove himself from the situation.

“I know this isn’t what you want,” Sonny said slowly. “And I’m sorry. I should have taken the meeting—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Jason said flatly. He could do this job if he didn’t think about that morning. If he didn’t remember how it had felt to watch Carly coming down the stairs in Sonny’s shirt or the way Sonny had tried to spin it like he was doing Jason a favor—

He’d been thinking about leaving town before his relationship with Elizabeth had changed, but now—

“Jason—”

“I gotta think about it,” he said. “It’s not that easy.”

“No, I know—” Sonny closed his mouth.

“I need to go. Elizabeth needs to go to work, and I want her to get some things from the studio. If I—” He hesitated. “If I go, I want her to stay here. At least until you know it’s safe. She might argue, but I’ll figure that out—”

“I’ll make sure she’s safe, Jason. She’s in this because of me—”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.” And with that, Jason left the kitchen wondering how the hell he was going to explain to Elizabeth he needed to leave Port Charles, probably for good.

Quartermaine Mansion: Bathroom

Carly dipped her hands into the cool water streaming from the faucet, then splashed the water over her face.

She hadn’t heard a word from Jason.

She would have thought he’d get the picture pretty quick. Either Jason went with Carly, or the little bitch was going to pay the price. How was he going to argue with that?

He was angry at her now, Carly considered as she looked at her reflection in the mirror over the sink, but once she had him to herself — once they were away and they had Michael with them—

He’d remember that he loved her. Hadn’t he told her that only weeks ago? Elizabeth Webber was a distraction, Carly assured herself. Jason was only a man, and the waif probably made him feel better after the year he’d had. Carly had even meant what she’d said to her the day before — she really did feel sorry that the girl had been raped so young.

Not that there was ever a good age for it, Carly decided as she went back into the bedroom and wandered over to the walk in closet. But to be violated that way before you even got a chance to experience how good sex could be?

Carly didn’t mind if the waitress used Jason to get back out there, but her generosity only went so far. Jason was hers. He’d forgotten that for a little while, but she could remind him. When it was just the two of them, she’d lure him back to bed.

She’d get pregnant, Carly decided. She’d find out when she was fertile—maybe some of those ovulation tests or—

And just like that—her brain skittered to a stop.

It was January 1.

And she was late.

“Oh, God. Please, God, no.” Carly closed her eyes, pressed her hands against her face. “Oh, no. No. No.”

Kelly’s: Kitchen

“Hey, DJ. Table ten is still waiting on their order,” Elizabeth said as she untied her apron. She tossed it on the hook. “Penny’s taking over my section, but—”

“I got you, Lizzie,” the cook said affably. “You look better today. Must have been one of those bugs going around.”

“Yeah, must have,” Elizabeth said with a weak smile. She wasn’t sure she shared DJ’s optimistic outlook — she and Jason seemed to have resolved the issue of their non-existent sex life, but he’d been strange when he’d come back to Sonny’s that morning.

He’d been quiet, Elizabeth remembered as she cashed out her receipts and separated her tips.  Not that Jason was every much of a talker, she considered, but there was quiet and then there was quiet.

When she went out into the alley, she realized she was almost surprised to see Jason there, the engine on the bike idling. She’d half thought he’d make an excuse and send her home with Francis.

“Hey.” She accepted the helmet from him, but didn’t put it on right away.

“Hey,” he said, returning the greeting with a half smile. There it was again—that flicker of something in his eyes. She didn’t know him well enough yet to know what it was—but she could tell something was not okay.

Elizabeth chewed on her bottom lip, then pulled on the helmet. She’d try to get it sorted out when they got back to his place. Maybe he’d just had a bad day.

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Jason dumped the keys on the desk when he came in, Elizabeth trailing behind him. “We need to talk,” he said finally after he’d taken her jacket from her and hung it up with his. Anything to stall and keep his mind away from the conversation they needed to have.

He didn’t want to do this, he realized now as he looked at her standing in his living room. This place was too big for him and he’d only come to stay there because the cottage had been too painful. Too many memories of Michael. But he liked seeing Elizabeth in this room—in his bedroom.

He’d wanted more of that, not to be telling her he needed to leave Port Charles, likely for good.

“Okay.” She folded her arms. “Um, what’s going on?”

“A lot,” he admitted. “I don’t really know where to start.” Jason paused. “I guess with the most important part — we don’t know for sure that Sorel put the bomb in your studio. I know the guy said it was him—” he said when she opened her mouth, “but it could also be—it’s complicated. Long story short, we need to get you off Sorel’s radar.”

“Okay, but I don’t know how that—” Elizabeth stopped, swallowed hard. “Off his radar,” she replied softly. “I would imagine there’s really only way to do that.”

“Yeah.” Jason looked away from her, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “You need to go to the PCPD and tell them that I dropped you off around midnight. You didn’t see me the rest of the night.”

Elizabeth drew her brows together, puzzled. “I don’t understand. That gives you no alibi. How does that get me off the radar—”

“It will because the PCPD won’t be coming after you for a statement anymore,” Jason continued.

“But they’ll go after you—”

“I know, but you won’t be something Sorel or his guys can use. He can’t scare you into not giving me an alibi if I’m telling you to do the same thing.”

“Oh. Well, that doesn’t sound great for you,” Elizabeth said slowly, “but that doesn’t sound so bad. You had me—” Then she closed her mouth. “That’s not everything, is it?”

“No,” Jason admitted. Uncomfortable, he walked over to sit on the arm of the sofa. “Carly gave me an ultimatum yesterday. I turned it down,” he continued, “which is why she went to you. But I can’t ignore the threats. They’re about you. And Bobbie.”

“About us?” Elizabeth blinked. “What was—Jason, I wish you’d just tell me what’s going on. You’re making me nervous. Are you breaking up with me? Is this what’s happening? Is that what she threatened—”

“She wants to disappear with Michael. She’s demanding that I go with her,” Jason continued. “If I don’t do it, she’s going to tell the PCPD that I was shot—and turn you and Bobbie in as accomplices.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “Are you kidding me? She’s going to throw her own mother under the bus? I can’t—” She pressed her hand to her chest. “Oh, God. If she tells the PCPD that you were shot and I make sure they know about you not having an alibi—Jason—that’s bad. For you. I can’t go to the PCPD—”

“You have to,” Jason told her. “And you need to tell them everything. You need to tell them that I threatened you.”

“Wait—”

“Because Carly is going to tell them that you gave me pain meds. She knows you did. She might not remember it, but if she makes this statement, Taggert will make sure she goes over every detail. Bobbie and I talked about it when she was in the room. So you need to tell them I threatened you—”

“There’s no way in hell—first of all, I made you go to my studio, and I went to Sonny—” Elizabeth shook her head. “I am not going to testify against you—”

“I won’t be here to go on trial.”

She stumbled to a stop. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I’m going to leave,” Jason said. “Before any of this happens. With any luck, if I’m not here to go after, Sorel’s men will back down on the alibi, and Carly—”

“Let me get this straight,” Elizabeth said, clenching her jaw. “You think these are our choices? One, you stay and I throw you under the bus to save myself and you end up in jail, or two, you leave Port Charles, and Carly will somehow not take that out on me?”

“Wait, what?” Jason shook his head. “No—”

“Yes,” Elizabeth cut in, slicing her hand through the air. “You’ll leave, and Carly will know you did it to get away from her. She won’t blame herself, she’ll blame me. And maybe even Bobbie, but mostly me. And she’ll be furious at you. Carly’s going to do this thing whether you’re here or not, Jason. Only if you’re not here—” Tears stung her eyes and he just stared at her in shock. “Why are you giving up?”

“I’m not—”

“This happened last night! And you’re already—you’re probably half-packed, aren’t you?” Elizabeth accused.

“Elizabeth—”

“You’re going to run away and leave me and Bobbie to deal with Carly? How is that fair?”

He hadn’t thought about it that way—he’d just thought if he took himself out of it— “Elizabeth—”

Her voice faltered. “You have to leave me, too. Or doesn’t that matter? Is it that easy to walk away from me?”

“No!” He didn’t know how to walk this back, how to fix this. It had seemed so simple when he and Sonny had talked about it. If Jason wasn’t here—the situation would cool down. “No, I don’t want to leave you. If it weren’t for you—” He’d be dead right now. She dragged him back into the world of living—how couldn’t she— “I’m doing this protect you. To keep you safe—”

“Safe.” Elizabeth laughed, a jagged, harsh sound he didn’t recognize from her. “Sure. Okay. Tell yourself that. Fine.”

“There’s no other way—” He stopped because to say that to her was a lie. There was another way that might work, but — “Anything else — it’s a risk and it just keeps you in the middle of it—”

“So there is another way and you’d rather leave? How am I supposed to take that, Jason?”

“It’s—I mean it, it’s asking too much—”

“You don’t get to decide what’s asking too much. If it keeps both us in Port Charles, out of jail, and together—” Her eyes burned into his. “Or isn’t that important to you?”

“It is,” he insisted. He took her hands and pulled her towards him. “You know it is. I just—” Jason paused. “There’s no guarantee it would work, and we might be right where we started.”

“Then at least we’ll say we tried everything. Jason—”

“If we were married, we couldn’t testify against each other.”

+12

Went a bit over. Written in 64 minutes. No spellcheck.

December 31, 1999

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Jason just stared at Elizabeth as she stalked across the room, her back to him. Fragile and damaged. If that’s what Elizabeth had taken from the confrontation with Carly, it meant that somehow, Carly had thrown Elizabeth’s rape in her face and used it to make her feel less.

He exhaled slowly. “Elizabeth,” he began, not having the slightest clue what words he would use to follow that.

“Let’s just not talk about it,” she muttered. “I don’t want to.”

“I get that.” He waited. “So let me talk and then we can drop it, okay? You don’t even have to look at me.”

“I won’t.”

Fair enough. Okay, so now what? “Carly has an idea of who I am,” he said finally. “Based on how we met. It was only a few months after my accident, and I was still—I don’t know. I was understanding how things worked. She thinks that because I had sex with her while I was interested in Robin that it gave her power over me—and Robin.” And it was humiliating to recount that, to remember how Carly had used that knowledge to try to lure him back into her bed. How she had used it to hurt Robin.

And he remembered that Robin had forgiven him even when he hadn’t really deserved it.

“I don’t know why she still thinks that’s true now,” Jason continued. “Robin always knew I couldn’t be Michael’s father because Carly and I haven’t been together that way in three years.” He paused again. “Yeah, I like sex, Elizabeth. That’s not something to be ashamed about.”

“I didn’t mean—” Elizabeth turned to him now, her voice quiet. “I didn’t mean you should be—”

“I know that.” Relieved that she was looking at him now even though she was still across the room, Jason took a step towards her. “You’re not fragile or damaged—”

“Really? You’re not living in my head, Jason, okay? I know—” Elizabeth wrapped her arms around her torso. “I know what goes through my mind when we’re together.”

“You’re right. I can’t tell you how to feel about yourself.” And knowing she felt both of those things—that Carly had forced them on her again just to get herself out of trouble—it left a sour taste in his mouth. “I can only tell you how I feel about you. I know you’re—I know you haven’t been with anyone. You told me that about Lucky—”

“I mean technically—”

“Technically doesn’t count,” Jason said with a shake of his head. “And I’m sure I’m not the first person to tell you that.”

“No. Bobbie told me that. And I’ve been to therapy. I get it. But knowing it and feeling it—” She rubbed the side of her face. “I don’t think about it all the time,” she offered. “Days go by, and I don’t. But lately, now we’re—” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I knew it would come up—”

He took another step towards her. “What scares you about it?” he asked. “I mean, if you can or want to—”

“I don’t know. That I won’t like any of it,” Elizabeth admitted. She twisted her fingers together in front of her, staring at them. “Or maybe worse. That I will, and then there will be a moment, and then I’ll be back there. It’s the hardest part of it, you know. You never know what’s going to trigger it. Um, sometimes people say something or, once, DJ—the cook at Kelly’s—he just bumped into me in the kitchen and I thought he was grabbing me—” Her throat closed. “I’m scared that if we try—If I try—then it’ll put me back in that night and it’ll ruin everything—”

Her eyes met his, tears still glistening in her lashes. “It’s not about trusting you. I wish it was that simple. I trust you. I trusted Lucky. It’s about trusting myself, and I’m not there yet. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” he demanded, wincing when he heard the roughness of his tone. She flinched. “I didn’t—I just meant this isn’t something you did to yourself, Elizabeth. It was done to you.”

Elizabeth swiped at her tears. “I know. I’ve been in therapy. It’s not my fault. None of it is. But it still feels like there’s something wrong with me.”

Jason had been slowly crossing the room and now he was just in front of her. “You said you trust me.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Do you trust me when I tell you that I don’t care if or when we sleep together?” he asked.

Elizabeth made a face. “Jason—” She took a deep, watery breath. “See, I know you meant that to help, but now—”

“What?” he reached for her hands, stopping her from twisting them. “Do you think because I don’t care that it means I don’t want to?” he asked and from the flush in her cheeks, he knew he was right. “I’ve been scared,” he admitted in a low voice, “to show you how much I do want you. Maybe saying I don’t care isn’t the right way. Because I do care,” he continued, “and I hope one day you’re ready. But it’s not a dealbreaker. I just like being around you.”

“Jason—” She squeezed her eyes shut. “It’s so frustrating,” Elizabeth muttered.

“What is?”

“Because most of me wants to—” She sighed. “I think maybe I didn’t really believe you were—I mean, that you wanted to have—you know, this is ridiculous. It’s frustrating,” Elizabeth repeated, meeting his eyes and now  he saw the flare of irritation, “because if you want me, and I definitely want you, that I don’t get to have that, you know? It shouldn’t be this hard—”

“It’s been less than a week,” Jason cut in. He cupped one of her cheeks, letting his thumb slide over the tear-stained skin. “I can be patient.”

“Yeah, well, patience has never been one of my virtues.” But some of the sadness had dissipated and he knew that he’d managed to reassure her. She smiled at him. “This has been a really weird day.”

“Yeah, and it’s not over yet.” Sensing the storm had passed, he leaned forward to kiss her, but she put her hands on his chest. “I’m sorry—”

“No, no, I just realized—” Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. “You never told me how Carly threatened you. You said she had and that you’d turned her down so she came to me. What did she say to you?”

Jason winced because he really didn’t want to have this conversation since it just put that insane conversation with Alexis back in his head.

Fortunately for him, before Elizabeth could press further, there was a slight knock on the door and then Sonny pushed it open. “Hey, hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“No.” Elizabeth cleared her throat and put some space between them. “Do you—um, should I go upstairs? Or whatever—”

“No, I think since the bomb was in your studio, you should at least get to know about it.” Sonny glanced at Jason. “Don’t you think?”

“Yeah. Yeah. The guys already looked?”

“Didn’t take long. The studio isn’t far from the warehouse.” Sonny rocked back on his heels. “Good news and bad news,” he continued. “Bad news, it was a live bomb. It should have detonated.”

Jason exhaled in a rush as he reflexively tightened his grip on Elizabeth’s hand. “But it didn’t.”

“No. Uh, Paulie said you might have made it out with minor injuries,” Sonny told her. “In the closet, I mean, but tough to know for sure. The thing is — there was a wire crossed. The bomb could count down but detonation couldn’t be triggered.”

Elizabeth squinted. “So, was that a mistake?” she asked. “Did he want the bomb to go off or did he just want to scare me?”

“It’s hard to say,” Sonny said slowly, and Jason could tell he was impressed that Elizabeth had made that leap. “The thing is—we don’t know. I’m getting a meeting together, so we’ll see tomorrow.” He hesitated. “You can’t go back to the studio.”

“No, I didn’t think I would. Um—” Elizabeth flicked her eyes to Jason. “I was gonna stay with Emily while you got the door and lock replaced, but I don’t feel—I mean, he could go after her, too.”

“If you were there, yeah. He wanted you to refuse to alibi me,” Jason reminded her. “He doesn’t know you weren’t planning to.” He looked at Sonny. “Do you need anything else from me tonight? You’re doing the meeting.”

“No, no. You’re good to go. Uh, Happy New Year’s,” Sonny said, gesturing at the clock which had clicked over to midnight when they hadn’t realized. “Call me if you need anything.”

When Sonny was gone, Jason turned back to Elizabeth. “I know everything we just talked about, but—”

“You want me to stay here in the Towers which has better security,” she finished. “I figured.” Elizabeth bit her lip, glancing around the room with its spare furniture. “Um, I’m also guessing maybe the guest rooms aren’t furnished.”

Jason scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, no. Just the one bed. But you take that and I’ll take the sofa—”

“No, no.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “When we were in the studio, you were on the sofa and I was on the floor. I know how to share a space with you Jason.” Her cheeks flushed. “I mean, if you want—”

“If you’re sure.” His skin felt like it was stretched too tight all of a sudden. He cleared his throat. “You can change your mind. Even in the middle of the night.”

“I know. I just—I trust you,” she said. She hesitated. “I guess we should—I mean, unless you don’t have—”

“No, we can—” Go to bed, he finished silently, but saying it out loud didn’t feel right. “Yeah.”

“Right.” Neither of them moved for a minute, then she laughed—with a mixture of embarrassment and nerves. “Can I borrow something to sleep in? I guess a t-shirt or—”

“Yeah. I’ll get you something,” he said immediately, starting for the stairs relieved to have a task. He heard her footsteps behind him and hoped like hell they weren’t making a mistake.

Maybe he should just take the sofa after all.

January 1, 2000

Morgan Penthouse: Bedroom

The sky behind the shades was still a grimy gray when her eyes drifted open the next morning. Blearily, she focused on the clock sitting on the table — it was just after six. Hmmm, maybe she should just go back to sleep.

She was so wonderfully warm and comfortable—not a sensation she was used to since she’d moved out of her grandmother’s house. The mattress was soft and plush, and she was wrapped in a cozy cocoon of comforter and—

Elizabeth’s eyes snapped wide open as she took in the feeling of weight behind her, and an arm slung over her waist, holding her against a furnace of heat. Jason. Jason was holding her against him, his hand resting loosely over her abdomen. She could feel all of him. Every single inch, and—

And she was fine. She was comfortable. She wasn’t scared. Elizabeth closed her eyes as a shudder slid through her and tears stung her eyes. She’d dreamed of this so often—first with Lucky, and more recently with Jason and now—

She felt him tense behind her and that hand started to jerk back. She reached for it, lacing her fingers with his. “No, um, not yet.”

“I’m sorry, I—” His voice was rough with sleep. “I didn’t mean—”

“I’m okay.” She released his hand and twisted until she was flat on her back and Jason was resting next to her. He sat up slightly, propping himself up on his elbow. “Really.”

His eyes searched hers, doubting. Or maybe just worried that she was covering it up. Elizabeth bit her lip, then slid her hand up his chest—over the soft cloth of the t-shirt he’d worn and she’d wondered if he was only doing that for her—to rest at his collarbone. There was a flicker in his eyes when her fingertips brushed his bare skin and she realized—

He hadn’t been lying the night before. He really did—he found her attractive. He liked when she touched him. And she liked knowing it.

Feeling brave, Elizabeth  tugged his head down to kiss her. His legs were brushing hers under the comforter, so she slid one of hers over his hips and he tensed against her. She old even feel his heart pounding where their chests met. She’d done that to him.

Fragile and damaged her ass.

“Good morning,” she murmured when she pulled back, her cheeks flaming.

“Good morning,” he managed. “I guess you slept okay.”

Elizabeth laughed then. “Oh, yeah. You?”

“Yeah.”  He kissed her again, lingering for another minute. “I hate to get up,” he admitted.

“Me either, but I have to work,” Elizabeth said with a grimace. “And I know you have stuff to do.”

He paused and she wondered if he was going to suggest they both blow things off for a few hours—she’d like to explore just how comfortable she really was—but then the cell phone on his side of the bed vibrated. With a scowl, Jason rolled away from her. “It’s Sonny,” he said with some surprise. “I need to—”

“I’ll get a shower. I need to stop by the studio before work to get clothes,” she reminded him as she moved towards the bathroom and left him alone with his phone call.

Maybe this would work after all.

+10

Written in 61 minutes.

Studio: Back Alley

Jason was already irritated with himself as he approached the back door entrance to her building. He hadn’t been checking on Elizabeth when he’d called his sister earlier — but Emily had no idea what he was talking about. She was going to a party that night, and Elizabeth was definitely not supposed to be with her.

Elizabeth wasn’t someone who lied without a damn good reason, and Jason had a feeling he knew who had caused all of this. Carly hadn’t gotten the reaction she wanted from him, so she’d gone another someone she thought of as a weaker target.

He’d find out what Carly had said to Elizabeth, he’d fix it — and then—

He stopped short when he saw that the back entrance to her building had been blocked off. There were boards nailed across it.

They had not been there that morning.

Studio

“What do you want?” Elizabeth demanded, her heart racing as she went back to the door and started to pull on it. Damn it, damn it—it wouldn’t turn—

“I can’t have you speaking to the PCPD about the night Anthony Moreno died,” Sorel said, his voice almost tinny in her ear. “You agree not to alibi Jason Morgan, and I’ll tell you how to deactivate the bomb—”

“Are you—” Her heart seized. “Wait — can’t you just turn it off?”

“Oh, it’s not that kind of remote,” Sorel said with a laugh. “Once I start the timer—”

“Then why am I wasting my time talking to you—” She hissed and slammed the phone against the receiver. Almost immediately, it started to ring again. “What? I told you—”

“Elizabeth—”

“Jason!” Elizabeth nearly sank to her knees in relief. “Jason, I can’t get out of the studio—there’s a bomb—”

“What?” Jason bit out. “Where? What—damn it—both entrances to the building are blocked—”

“My door—they did something to the—” She pressed the receiver to her ear, trying to think. He’d never make it upstairs in four minutes. She was trapped. “Jason, you have to go.”

“What—”

“You won’t—” She turned around, trying to gage the size of the window. Could she push it open and get out? It was a hard fall but she had a better chance—She turned back to the phone. “You won’t get here in time, and I don’t want you to get hurt, okay? This is my fault—”

“Elizabeth—”

“I’m sorry.” She hung up the phone and went to the window, shoving the couch over to it. She booted herself onto the window sill and shoved it open. She glanced down, swallowing hard. It was trash day and the alley was littered with boxes and crates—

She looked back to the studio, focused on the door in the back, the closet. Could she hide in there? Would that block the shockwaves? How strong was the bomb? Damn it, why hadn’t she paid attention when bombs went off on television?

She looked under the table, swallowing hard. Two minutes left.

Alley

Jason didn’t bother calling her again. She wouldn’t answer. He needed to get upstairs, he needed to get to her and get her to safety—

He tossed the phone side, grabbed one of the boards with his hands and yanked. Nails and splinters dug into his flesh but he didn’t stop to let the pain register.

He had the door unblocked and was running up the stairs, taking them three or four at a time, his chest heaving, his heart pounding—

How long was the timer—did she know to hide—

Studio

Elizabeth dragged the sofa in front of the table, and then stacked a few things — unused canvases, her easel — anything to block the shockwaves —

And when she knew her time was almost at its end, she went into the closet, curled into a ball in the closet, pulling more boxes and supplies in front of her.

Then she put her head down and hoped for the best.

On her floor, Jason rushed down the hallway towards the studio. He tested the knob but it refused to turn—he braced a shoulder against it and forced it open —

Elizabeth heard a loud bang and screamed, thinking it was the bomb, thinking it was over—

Then the door to the closet was dragged open and hands were reaching in, reaching under her elbow to drag her out. “Jason?”

“Let’s go,” he said, half carrying, half dragging her out of the studio, past the broken down door. Elizabeth didn’t argue.

Elm Street Pier

The blast of wintry cold air against her cheeks forced her brain to react. “Wait, wait—”  She turned back to her building. “It didn’t go off.”

Jason was running his hands down her shoulders, down her arms, checking for injuries — then he stopped. “What?”

“Five minutes.” Her lips started to chatter and Jason yanked off his jacket to wrap it around her. “The timer. And when I went into the closet, it had to be around thirty seconds—”

They both looked back at the building now, waiting to hear the explosion. Waiting. Nothing. Elizabeth blinked. “Was it real?” she asked softly. “Was it fake?”

“I don’t know, but I’m not leaving you out here in the open to find out,” Jason said. “I’ll call a team—” he winced. “Will someone call in the noise I made when I came through the door?”

“Not in that building,” Elizabeth said, leaning her forehead against his shoulder. She frowned, reached for his hands. “What did you do?”

“Nothing—”

“Jason—” His hands were bleeding, scraped, and there were splinters—She raised her eyes to his. “I—”

“Come on.” He reached for his cell phone, then grimaced. “I lost it in the alley. We’ll go to the penthouse. We’ll figure it out.” He hesitated. “Please. I just—I need you to be safe. We can—”

She hadn’t listened to him earlier. He’d asked her not to go back to the studio alone, and she’d not only done that—she’d lied to him about it. Elizabeth swallowed hard. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t think—” She pressed a fist to her mouth as it sunk in. She’d nearly died and Jason might have trying to get her out— “I’m sorry,” she repeated.

“We’ll talk about it later, it’s okay,” he assured her, tugging on her her arm again. She sighed and followed him. Sure they’d talk about it, and then it would probably be over. He’d never trust her again. Not after she’d nearly gotten them both blown up.

Harborview Towers: Hallway

“Wait here,” Jason told Elizabeth as they stepped off the elevator. “I need to get Sonny to get guys to your place.”

“Okay.” Feeling exhausted, she leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes. She couldn’t think about it yet. Couldn’t really understand how it had happened — in less than five minutes —

“They did what?” she heard Sonny demand. Then he appeared around the corner, following Jason. “Elizabeth, you okay? What the hell?” Without waiting for her to respond, he turned back to the guard on the door. “Get a team to down there. Grab Mikey and Paulie. They got explosives training. I want to know if that was a dud —” He turned back to Elizabeth. “What happened?” he bit out. “How did you find the bomb?”

“Sonny—” Jason began.

“He called me,” Elizabeth said at the same time. Jason blinked and looked at her. “I got home from work and maybe two or three minutes later, the phone rang. He said he was Joseph Sorel. Something happened to do the door and I couldn’t open it. Then he told me to look under the table.”

Sonny hissed. “He was watching you.”

“I guess so. There was a bomb under the table. And while I was looking at it, the timer started. Five minutes.” Elizabeth lifted a hand up, intending to rub her temple, but it was shaking. Instead, she curled it into a fist. “He told me that if I promised not to alibi Jason about that night with Moreno, he’d tell me how to deactivate it.”

“That doesn’t—” Jason narrowed his eyes. “It wasn’t on a remote timer then. Or it was just a starter timer. He couldn’t stop it.”

“Risky as hell,” Sonny muttered. “If it was a live—” He bit off his words. “What happened then?”

“I realized it wasn’t a bomb he could turn off, so I hung up on him,” Elizabeth admitted. “I didn’t think it was a great use of my time. Then Jason called — but when he told me the studio was blocked—”

“Back and front—they’d nailed boards to the front,” Jason said, flexing his hands.

“I didn’t think he’d make it in time, so I hung up on him, too,” Elizabeth said with a wince. “I thought about going out the window—”

“That’s three stories into the alley—” Jason began, clenching his jaw. “And all that crap—”

“Yeah, so I piled a bunch of crap in front of the bomb and then hid in the closet. I thought it might block some of the shockwaves.” She rubbed her fist against her collarbone, restless. “I read that somewhere.”

Sonny grunted. “Not a terrible idea. Would it have worked?” he asked Jason.

“I don’t know. I got through the door and heard her in the closet. I didn’t stop to look.” Jason paused. “Is that all Sorel said to you?”

“That’s all I gave him a chance to say,” Elizabeth said. “I’m sorry—”

“You did the right thing,” Sonny said with a wave of his hand. “We’ll get some guys down there to look at it. I’ll go supervise,” he told Jason. “You get those hands taken care of.”

“Yeah—” Jason paused. He looked at Elizabeth. “Can you go inside? I’ll be there in a minute.” He reached into the pocket of the jacket she still wore and drew out his keys. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I mean, well, no, but I can manage,” she clarified. Her fingers fumbled as she slid the key into the lock, but then she went inside and closed the door.

She was tempted to press her ear against the door, but she knew she wouldn’t need to do. Jason and Sonny would make sure she was safe, but she knew she’d made a mistake. She hadn’t taken Jason’s safety concerns seriously, and—

She went over to the sofa, sat down, and clung more tightly to the jacket. She was such an idiot.

Back in the hallway, Jason looked after Elizabeth, his browns pinched together. Was she okay? Was she angry at him? She was going to change her mind, he decided. This wasn’t what she wanted—

“Jason.”

Jason blinked, realized Sonny was looking at him. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat, flexed his hands again. Now that some of the adrenaline was fading, he could feel the stings. “Look, something about this feels strange,” he told Sonny. “Sorel calling her? Leaving her a warning?”

“If the bomb is a dud, then he was just trying to scare her. If it was live and just didn’t go off for whatever reason, he was playing with her. Next time, it’ll be real — ”

“There’s also the chance that he meant it to go off and it didn’t. He tried to kill Elizabeth,” Jason said flatly. “Because of me—”

“Don’t go there yet,” Sonny warned him. “He wanted her to refuse to alibi you. Whether the two of you are together or not — that doesn’t change the fact that she’s involved. People know it. The PCPD has her in their sights over all of this. Moreno and her part exists either way.” He paused. “You’re scared, but this isn’t the first time people you know have been targeted because of you.”

But it was the first time with Elizabeth. “Sonny—”

“Don’t be stupid, and and don’t do anything you can’t take back. You could walk away from her,” Sonny said, and Jason grimaced, “but it won’t change anything. Sorel had guys watching that building. Guys who just saw you rip your hands apart and bust down doors to get her out.”

“I know all of that,” Jason retorted.

“Okay. Then I’m going to go see what I get from the studio.” Sonny jabbed the elevator button. “Get those hands looked at,” he repeated. “And make sure she’s okay. You’ll feel better when you know she is,” he added.

Jason watched him step on the elevator, and then looked back at the penthouse. He took a deep breath and headed for the door.

Elizabeth was sitting on the sofa, staring blankly at the television that wasn’t even switched on. She turned when he came in, rising to her feet. “Um—” She stripped off the jacket and handed it to him. “I forgot to…”

“It’s okay.” He tossed it on the desk, then went to the closet for the first aid kit. He really didn’t know what to do or say to her. He had that ridiculous conversation with Alexis rolling around in his brain, the threats from Carly — and now Elizabeth was standing in the penthouse, a place she clearly didn’t want to be.

“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I—you didn’t want me to be at the studio tonight. You asked me not to go back there.”

Jason remained silent, setting the kit on the desk. That was true, but he also knew if she’d run into Carly — Carly had a way of making people do destructive things. “It’s okay,” he said finally.

“It’s not. You need to know that I know it’s not. You—you need to be able trust that I’ll do what you need me to do with things like this. With safety—and your job, I mean.” Her voice was shaking, but the words made sense to him. “I was going to do that. I was just—” Elizabeth faltered. “I was going to do it tomorrow. Emily had plans tonight, and I just—”

“Didn’t want to come here,” Jason finished. He cleaned off the last of the blood on his hands, then started to close the kit. Instead, Elizabeth came forward to grab it.

“You didn’t clean—” Elizabeth bit her lip and reached for his hands. “It wasn’t about not wanting to come here,” she finished. “I mean—” She took one of the antiseptic pads and pressed it against a particularly nasty gouge in his palm.

“Then what was it about?” Jason asked. “I’m not mad,” he reassured her when she didn’t reply. “I didn’t think the safety thing was such an issue,” he admitted. “If I thought things were bad enough there’d be a bomb, I would have said something. I’m not mad,” he repeated. “I just want to know what I did wrong, so I don’t do it again.”

“Nothing.” Her eyes flew up to meet his. “Nothing! It’s just, um, I thought—staying at the penthouse for a few days—I thought it would mean—” She bit her lip, color staining her cheeks. “I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that—”

Jason started to frown because he didn’t really understand, but then with her next words — “I was going to talk to you about it, and then Carly—”

“Carly,” he muttered. “I knew it.”

“She just…I don’t know. She just has a way of saying things that get in your head,” Elizabeth said in a quiet voice. “Things you know aren’t true the way she means them, but they are—”

Knowing some of the vile things Carly had spewed to Robin in the past, Jason steeled himself. “What did she say?”

When Elizabeth started to pull back, he wrapped his hands around her wrists to keep her in place. “Elizabeth.”

“She just reminded me that I’m not…” Elizabeth looked away, broke eye contact as a tear slid down her cheek. “I’m not…I can’t—I don’t know if I’ll ever able to trust anyone—even you—because of what happened to me.”

Jason stared at her for a long time, trying to absorb it—trying to wrap his head around all the implications. Elizabeth had been nervous about the penthouse because she thought it meant he expected sex, and then Carly—

“What,” he said, “exactly did she say to you?”

“Why does that matter?” Elizabeth asked. “I just told you—”

“We’ll talk about that,” he told her. “Because that’s important, but I can’t—she came to me first,” he said finally. “And when I didn’t give her the reaction she wanted, she went straight to you. I need to know what she threatened you with.”

“Threatened—” Elizabeth’s eyes were wide. “Is that what she did to you?”

“Yeah. That’s something else we need to talk about,” he admitted. “But she did, didn’t she? She threatened you.”

“Not—not in so many words—” Elizabeth tried to edge away again.

“We need figure it out, Elizabeth—”

“This is just like that night at Vista Point,” she muttered. “You just keep pushing—fine—fine—” She twisted until he released her hands. “Fine. She reminded me that I’m fragile and I’m damaged, okay? Because I don’t like sex, and according to her, you do. A lot. Happy now?”

+11

Written in 63 minutes.

December 31, 1999

Corinthos-Morgan Warehouse: Office

“You know, if you’re going to do the books for this place,” Alexis Davis began amicably as he put down his briefcase on the rickety table, “you should get a room that doesn’t look like it could double as solitary confinement.”

Jason frowned at his lawyer. “Why? All I need is a table, a chair, and some lights.” He shook his head and went back to the ledgers. “Sonny has an office. People are always trying to make appointments.”

“Yeah, that’s how you stay legit,” Alexis began, then shook her head. Trying to make Jason even slightly more corporate to support the image of the warehouse as a legal business was never going to work. “I was able to get that search warrant quashed, by the way. It was clearly fishing.”

“Thanks.”

“But,” Alexis continued, “it would be simpler if you could alibi yourself for the night Moreno went missing. They can’t pinpoint an actual time of death, only that the body was in the harbor for a few weeks.” She tilted her head. “Elizabeth—”

Jason leaned back. “She can alibi me for a few hours,” he said slowly, “and I know that if she phrased her answer just right and they didn’t follow up, it would hold. The problem is she wasn’t with me the whole night.”

Alexis wrinkled her nose, then gingerly perched on the edge of a chair that looked like it had been dragged up from storage. “I was afraid of that.”

“There’s—” Jason grimaced. “There’s more. I got shot that night.” He stared at his lawyer, waiting for her to ask the question.

Alexis pursed her lips. “Okay.”

“Elizabeth found me the next morning. I stayed at her place while I was recovering, and Bobbie looked in on me.” Jason rolled the pencil between his fingers, feeling the ridges against his skin. “How much trouble would they be in if someone told the PCPD that?”

“Well,” Alexis drawled slowly, “that would depend. You’re not required seek to medical assistance. If Bobbie gave you medical help—” She paused. “Did it include any medication?”

“Not from her,” Jason said.

“But from someone,” Alexis continued. “Did Elizabeth give you medication? Does anyone know that?”

“I—” Jason frowned over the question. “I don’t know if anyone other than Sonny knew.” Did Carly? She might have. “Maybe.”

“That’s likely where the problem would come,” Alexis told him. “If anyone gave you pain pills and the PCPD could somehow prove it enough to file charges — they could be in trouble. Elizabeth could be charged with distribution of a narcotic. They wouldn’t even have to tie you to Moreno’s death,” she added. “If someone knew Elizabeth was doling out pain meds—” She stopped. “Maybe we should stop speaking in hypotheticals, Jason, and you tell me what’s going on. I’m your lawyer. I can be Elizabeth’s lawyer if she needs one, at least until there’s a conflict of interest—”

“Carly knows I was shot,” Jason said. “Sonny gave Elizabeth the medication I needed. I only took the antibiotics after the first day. But, yeah, she got me some pain meds. She flushed them when I refused to use them.”

Alexis perused that information for a long moment. “Carly knows you were shot, and from what you’ve asked, I imagine she also knew Bobbie and Elizabeth were involved. She might not make the connection with the drugs, Jason, but I assure you — if she goes to Taggert, he will. He’s already trying to tie Elizabeth to this anyway he can to force her statement.”

Jason sighed. And if Carly had the chance to throw Elizabeth under the bus— “Her statement would be enough to force Elizabeth on the record, wouldn’t it?”

“It might,” Alexis admitted. “Again, a gunshot wound around the time Moreno was presumed to be murdered—that doesn’t look great for you. It’s circumstantial, but it’s enough to pull Elizabeth and Bobbie in for questioning. If they can threaten either of them with accessory, particularly if they make this drug connection — I don’t know, Jason. It would depend on the evidence. I could probably get it dismissed eventually, but I wouldn’t be able to represent you and them.”

He’d been afraid of that. “Carly is threatening to turn them in,” he admitted. “If I don’t help her disappear with Michael and get out of the marriage.” He paused. “I told her I’d do that—but she wants me to go with her.”

“Of course she does,” Alexis muttered. “Jason—” She hesitated. “The rumors about you and Elizabeth—are they true?”

Jason frowned at her. “What? About the party? What Nikolas said? Why does that matter?”

“I’m certainly not interested in your love life,” Alexis said dryly, “nor am I helping you to circumvent the law. I just wanted to point out that you need to shake Carly’s credibility and prevent any situation where Elizabeth could be forced to testify against you. Taggert doesn’t want her. He wants you and Sonny.”

Jason squinted. “I don’t understand—”

“The entire town knows that Carly is a jealous shrew,” Alexis reminded him. “You make this look like it’s revenge for you moving on with another woman—it’ll take her down a notch. And if Elizabeth wasn’t in a position to testify against you because of, I don’t know, some sort of confidentiality—”

“Alexis—”

“There’s several types of confidentiality,” Alexis continued. “Priest, doctor, and, well—spousal.”

Jason just stared at her. “Alexis—”

“It’s tricky to assert it about actions,” Alexis continued, “but generally lawyers try to avoid calling spouses to the stand because if it’s not voluntary, then the spouse can sabotage the case by offering material that was confidential—”

“Just— Jason put up a hand. “Listen—”

“It would work both ways,” Alexis continued, “because then if you were asked if Elizabeth gave you narcotics, you could—”

“This is—” Jason took a deep breath. “That’s—” He paused. “That’s your best advice?”

“I’m not advising you to do anything that circumvents the legal execution of the law,” Alexis said blandly. “I’m merely stating the ways in which you could protect one another under current legislation. Now, there are some challenges to privilege, but it usually gets tied up in appeals and goes for years — it’s messy,” she repeated. “And it mostly gets avoided by just not asking the spouse to testify if they’re the only witness.”

“Uh, thanks—”

“Don’t thank me. I didn’t do anything. Remember — I gave you zero advice. We just chatted about the law.” She got to her feet. “Right?”

“Right.” He watched Alexis go, then sat back in his chair, thinking over the conversation. He hadn’t thought twice about Elizabeth getting supplies from Sonny — he had only take two doses of the pain pills on the first day when it had been unbearable, but those kinds of charges—even the accusation—

He scrubbed his hands over his face. He’d have to find another way to deal with Carly.

Kelly’s: Diner

Elizabeth dumped a few coffee mugs into the dish tub and turned back to the counter, frowning when she saw her grandmother. “Gram.”

“Elizabeth,” Audrey said with a stiff nod. “I was hoping you would reconsider coming to the hotel with me tonight for the party.”

She opened her mouth, then saw Carly sauntering in and taking a seat at the counter. This was definitely the last thing she needed today. “Thanks, Gram, but I already have plans tonight.”

Audrey’s expression grew even more stony. “With Jason Morgan?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said, ignoring Carly’s smirk. “Gram—”

“I certainly hope I won’t have to be attending your funeral,” her grandmother snapped then stormed out of the diner.

Fantastic. Her day was going just great. She turned her attention to Carly. “What can I get you?”

“It’s really what I can get for you,” Carly said coolly. “I’m here to do you a favor, Little Miss Muffet—”

“I doubt that—”

“You know Jason’s only playing around with you because of me,” Carly interrupted and Elizabeth closed her mouth. “Because I made a mistake—”

“Just the one?”

“He always comes back.” Carly leaned forward, her brown eyes dancing with glee and malice.  “You can ask Robin. I was his first, you know? After the accident. She wasn’t enough for him—”

“That’s—” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “That’s none of my business—”

“It should be. He and I—we have chemistry. You know, where it counts. You’ve seen him, haven’t you? He’s gorgeous, sexy—” Carly closed her eyes and Elizabeth’s throat burned because she knew what the other woman was insinuating. “Mmm, the things he can do with those hands—”

“I have other customers—” Elizabeth started to turn away, but Carly’s hand snaked out and wrapped around Elizabeth’s forearm.

“He always comes back to me,” Carly repeated. “He likes to pretend he likes girls like you—fragile, soft—” She paused. “And damaged.”

Elizabeth flinched at that, and Carly’s lips curved into a smile. “That’s right. You know all about Robin and her sob story. He put up with that for as long as he could. I know about you.”

Her breath froze in her lungs and Elizabeth could only stare at her in stunned silence. “Everyone knows. I’m sorry for you,” Carly added. “Because you were young. Don’t think I’m not sympathetic—”

“Sympathetic—” Elizabeth choked out.

“Sympathetic enough to let you take a few rolls with Jason to get yourself back in the game.” Carly shrugged, released Elizabeth’s arm. “He’ll make you like sex again.”

Her stomach was rolling and bile had risen in her throat until she nearly gagged from it, but Carly just continued. “And you might even entertain him for a little while. At the end of the day, honey, you and I both know you’re not enough to keep him. He’ll get bored, just like he did with Robin, and then he’ll come back to me. He always does.”

Carly got to her feet and adjusted the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “I told you, kid, this was me doing you a favor. Have your fun for as long as he’ll let you but don’t fool yourself. You’re not woman enough for Jason. You’re a damaged little girl looking for a hero.”

As soon as Carly had left the diner, Elizabeth went into the kitchen and straight into the walk in fridge to give herself a long moment. To take a deep breath. She had Emily’s words rolling in her mind to just talk to Jason, to ask him—

But she also knew that Carly’s venom was rooted in truth. Elizabeth was damaged. She was fragile. Not as much as she had been, that much was true. She could take care of herself — but in the ways that mattered — as a woman — there was a piece of Elizabeth that would always be broken. Shattered.

And she was terrified that Carly was right — that the piece of her soul Tom Baker had stolen that night could never be fixed.  That she would always be trapped in those bushes, her back against the cold, frozen dirt with someone looming over her—

“Lizzie?” DJ poked his head in. “You okay?”

She closed her eyes and sank to the ground, resting her head against the cool metal wall. “No,” she said softly.

“Let me call Tammy, kid.” The cook edged his way into the freezer and knelt in front of her. “We’ll get someone to cover your shift—”

“Okay.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “I’ll—I’ll do it.”

She had another call to make.

Elm Street Pier

Jason was just crossing to the stairs to lead him to Kelly’s for some dinner when he felt the phone in his pocket vibrate. He tugged it out and smiled when he saw Elizabeth’s name on the screen. Maybe she was getting done early—

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Her voice sounded a bit strange—almost flat and empty. “I’m not feeling well, so I’m going home early.”

Jason frowned. “I’ll be right there. We can get your stuff tomorrow—”

“No, I—” She cleared her throat. “No, I—I, um, talked to Emily. I’m going to stay with her. I just—I’m sorry.”

“Elizabeth, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I mean, except for—I think I’m getting a cold—”

“Then let me—” He could take care of her, the way she’d done for him. “I’ll come right now—”

“Jason, I—look, I’m sorry. Please. I just—I have to go.” The line went dead, and Jason found himself staring at the silent phone, unsure what had happened. Things had been fine that morning. For both of them—

He grimaced. If Carly had gone after him—why wouldn’t she confront Elizabeth? Damn it.

Studio

Wearily, Elizabeth pushed open her door, then slid over the bolt to lock it behind her. She’d felt terrible lying to Jason about where she was spending the night. She reminded herself that she’d go to Emily’s in the morning.

She just didn’t want to see anyone or anything right now. She wanted to sit with herself in the dark—

Elizabeth dragged her hands through her hair and took a deep breath. It was stupid to let Carly into her head, stupid to let her words sink into her bones.

Stupid to think that Carly wasn’t right.

The phone rang, and Elizabeth jumped from the sound. She turned to look at her landline, wondering if it was Jason. Or maybe it was someone else—

She bit her lip, considered letting the machine pick up but then reached for it. If it was Jason, she almost wanted him to catch her in the lie. To come over.

Elizabeth lifted the receiver to her ear. “Hello?”

“Miss Webber, I’m  glad I caught you. This is Joseph Sorel.”

Her heart frozen for a moment, then began to beat wildly in her chest. “What—”

“I regret to tell you that this will be the last time we speak. I hope you’ve made peace with yourself.”

“What the  hell—” Elizabeth began, then she heard something slam against her door. She rushed towards it, flipped back the bolt, then tried to twist the knob.

“It won’t open. Now, go check under the table.”

Elizabeth obeyed, kneeling down to peer underneath her artist’s table—then her mouth dried up.

“Have you found it yet? You’re trapped, my dear, and unless you do exactly as I say, you won’t be able to see the year 2000. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she breathed, staring at the 5:00 numbers blinking in red. Then, in horrors, they stopped blinking, then began to change. 4:59. 4:58.

Oh, God. There was a bomb in her studio.

+9

Written in 53 minutes. Did a spellcheck but did not read for typos.

December 31, 1999

Studio: Hallway

Elizabeth could really get used to starting her day like this, she thought as she tugged open her studio door and beamed at Jason framed in the doorway, clad in his leather jacket and dark blue jeans. He was so pretty—

“Good morning,” he murmured, then leaned down to kiss her. It might have been meant to be a brief greeting, a brush of their mouths against one another, but Elizabeth decided that she was going to go all in for as long as this lasted—

She wrapped her arms around her neck and pressed her body against his, trying out the move he’d used on her day before—where she gently nibbled at his bottom lip and he opened his mouth—oh, it was just as good as when he’d done it—

Surprised, Jason stumbled back just a step, leaning against the door jamb, tightening his arms around her waist, lifting her off her feet so that their bodies lined up just right—

“Don’t you have to work?” he managed some time later, lifting his head.

“Yeah.” She wrinkled her nose and released her grip, then was pleasantly surprised when he still held her close. “I just missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” Jason said, dipping down to kiss her again. It took maybe another minute before she finally pulled back and he set her back on her feet.

“I gotta go or Tammy’s going to make stay until midnight.” Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why she’s bothering to stay open — no one is going to Kelly’s on New Year’s Eve.”

“I would if you were working,” Jason said with a grin as she grabbed her purse and locked the door. He narrowed his eyes, some of the amusement fading. “I don’t like that lock.”

“I know. You said so a thousand times when you were staying here.” She shrugged as they started down the hallway. “I asked the landlord and he told me I could change it, but I’d have to pay for it.”

Jason opened his mouth and she stabbed a finger at him. “Don’t you dare offer—”

“I wasn’t—” he stopped. “Okay, I was, but even if this were a safer area—”

“Ugh, you sound like Gram—”

“It’s different now,” he finished and she frowned at him. “Because people know. About us, I mean.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t thought of that angle. She looked back at her door, accepting for the first time that it wasn’t just her lock that wasn’t so great—it was also the door itself with the window. Wasn’t that how Nikolas—and Carly—had known he was there? And her grandmother—

“Okay. You can do what you want to the lock.” Before he could open his mouth. “And the door,” she added.

“Thanks.” He pushed open the door to the alleyway, scowling at the condition that, too. Was there anything in the studio he didn’t hate, she wondered idly?  “I might not be able to get it done for a day or two. The holidays, I mean.”

“That’s okay. I wasn’t going to be able to do anything until I got my tax refund in a few months.” She took the helmet he offered—but then he didn’t release his grip. “What?”

“The security on the whole building is bad,” he told her because apparently he’d sensed his opening.

“Well, you get what you pay for,” she quipped, uncomfortable. “I mean, look, I’m sorry. I wasn’t planning to live here when I rented the place, you know? I was just gonna use it to paint. But it’s cheap and close to work—”

“Yeah, I just—” Jason paused. “Would you stay at my place until I get the lock replaced?” he asked.

“At your—” Her mouth dried up. In the penthouse? Across from Sonny? What did that mean? At his place? What did stay mean? Did it mean the couch or guest room—

“It’s my fault you’re living here,” he continued, obviously oblivious to full on anxiety attack she was going through in her head. “I just want you to be safe.”

“Well, it’s my grandmother’s for being unreasonable,” Elizabeth managed. She cleared her throat. Hadn’t she told herself she’d be all in? She knew Jason was wildly out of her league, especially in experience. How long would he put up with her being a stupid, scared kid?

“Yeah, that’s fine,'” she finished. “Um, we should get going before I’m late.”

Kelly’s: Kitchen

Halfway through her shift, she took a tub of dishes back to the sink, still obsessing over what Jason’s offer had meant.

Would he expect her to share the same room with him? Why wouldn’t he? She’d slept less than a foot from him when he’d been at the studio—sharing a bed was basically the same thing—

And if they were sharing a bed, did that mean Jason thought they’d have sex? Was she ready for that? What if she wasn’t? And what did it even mean to be ready? How did you know you were ready? Was there a memo or like an alert signal from your brain—

“Lizzie, you good?”

Elizabeth broke out of the new spiral of anxiety to blink at DJ staring at her quizzically, the spatula in his hand. “What?”

“You’ve been staring at nothing for a minute. You good?”

“Yes. Yeah. Um, I’m great.” She forced a smile. She was good. She was absolutely perfect. She had managed to snag the attention of a kind, decent guy who knew how to listen and filled out a pair of jeans better than anyone else in the universe—

She squared her shoulders. “I’m fine,” she repeated.  With that mantra firmly affixed, she left the kitchen, then stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Emily sitting at the counter.

“Hey.” Emily offered her a weak smile. “I was hoping we could talk.”

“Talk or yell?” Elizabeth said, walking behind the counter. She reached for the kettle of boiling water and filled Emily’s cup. She set Emily’s preferred tea bags down next to it. “The last time—”

“The last time I was still kind of, um, adjusting. I didn’t—I don’t know—I wasn’t ready to hear you and my brother were a thing.” Emily tossed some sugar into her tea, then stared at the steeping liquid. “I guess I always figured you’d tell me when you were ready to move on. Or, um, you know, take that step.”

“What step—” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose.

“You know. Nikolas said you were sleeping together, and I know you were, like, scared of that—”

Elizabeth hesitated. “Does that still bother you? The idea of me and Jason—”

“No, no, once I calmed down and, like, thought about it, it makes sense, you know?” Emily brightened. “You’re better than Carly, of course. And I knew Jason listened to you. I knew you were friends. I just didn’t realize you were friends.”

“Oh, well, that part is new. Nikolas—he just—he was irritating me,” Elizabeth admitted. “And you know how I am. I kind of—I lied to him. Jason and I—it’s happening, but that, uh, hasn’t happened.”

“Oh. Okay. I mean, you were right. It’s not my business, but I just—” Emily paused. “I don’t know. I guess it wasn’t so much I was thinking about wanting to know your sex life,” she continued, her cheeks flaming, “but that I wanted to know you were okay. And, like, being able to do that—it means you’re okay. Not that you weren’t okay—”

“I know what you mean.” And because Elizabeth could see the concern and hope in Emily’s eyes, she sighed. “For a long time, even with Lucky, I didn’t think I could. I’m still—” She twisted a napkin. “I’m still not sure if I can. Or if I’m ready to find out.”

“Oh.” Emily furrowed her brow. “Well, that’s okay, too. You said it was new with Jason, and, like, if it can’t be Lucky who would have been good, I mean—shoot—” She scrubbed her hands over her face. “This is ridiculous. We are adults,” she told Elizabeth. “We can talk about sex.”

“Sure.”

“I wish Lucky was alive,” Emily continued, “and we both know he would have taken care of you and been as patient as you need him to be. But since it can’t be him—” She took a deep breath. “Oh man, sometimes it just hits me, you know?”

“Yeah. It still hits me, too, Em. I wish he could be here. Sometimes I still think he’ll walk through the door. But I can’t—”

“You can’t put your life on hold. And it has been almost a year,” Emily continued. “Lucky would be the first person to tell you that he wanted to you be happy. He’d never want you to mope around. He liked Jason, too. Plus, I know Jason will be just as patient as you need him to be. I overheard Robin talking to Brenda how kind he was to her—she had a lot of anxiety with everything because of the HIV.”

Elizabeth hadn’t thought about any of that. “I’ve been kind of worried about it,” she admitted. “I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to. Because I do. He’s—well, I know he’s your brother—”

“I can be objective,” Emily assured her. “You think he’s hot. He is.”

“And I’m not thinking about what—I’m not thinking about anything else when he kisses me,” Elizabeth admitted. “I’m just—I’m scared that I’ll have a flash or I’ll freak out, and it’ll mess things up.”

“You should talk to him. You know he’d understand.”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely. Why wouldn’t he?”

And of course, once Emily said that, Elizabeth knew she was right. She was probably the one putting all the pressure onto things. Jason would never want her to do anything she wasn’t ready for.

“Thanks, Em. I’m glad you’re with me on this.”

“Well, like I said, I’m ready for him to be done with Carly, and you’re my favorite person in the world. Why wouldn’t I want the best for my brother?” Emily beamed at her. “Thank you for not being Carly.”

“Uh, you’re welcome?”

Elm Street Pier

Jason scowled when he saw Carly waiting for him on the bench when he stepped up from Bannister’s Wharf.

“Don’t walk away—” Carly called as he turned to do exactly that. “You have to listen to me—”

“There’s nothing I need from you—”

“You sure about that?”

And there was something in her tone that made the hair on his neck stand up. Jason slowly turned to face the blonde and walked towards her. “Fine. Say what you want to say, and then I’m going.”

“We’ll see about that.” Carly folded her arms. “I was at my mother’s and Taggert was complaining to her about you and the little brat—”

“I’m going—”

“I wouldn’t if you want to keep the angel out of the slammer.”

His shoulders tensed. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I know she’s your alibi for the night Moreno died,” Carly retorted. “I know everyone thinks the two of you were shacked up in her crappy studio. I wonder if Taggert would be interested in finding out you were recovering from a gun shot wound.” She tapped her chin. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, if Elizabeth helped hide you while you recovered, that makes her part of it right? What’s the word—”

Jason stared at her for a long moment, then shook his head. “You’re not going to say thing. Bobbie was there—”

“Don’t you think that would give me more credibility?” Carly said coolly. “I must be telling the truth if I’m willing to incriminate my own mother. What will Taggert say if I told him Elizabeth was hiding you and my mother helped you?”

“Bobbie could lose her license—”

“She could. It would be a shame,” Carly continued. “She’s a great nurse, and the hospital is lucky to have her—”

“What do you want?” Jason bit out. Carly was right — if she told the PCPD that Bobbie was involved, they’d drag Bobbie in for questioning. Elizabeth’s grandmother might think more closely about how Jason had looked when she’d seen him—Nikolas would probably back all of it up—

“I need to get out of town,” Carly said. “I need to get out of my marriage. You’re going to take me and Michael, and we’re going to leave.”

“I’ll get you out,” he told her. “But I’m not going with you—”

“No, that’s the deal. You go with us.” She sauntered towards him, softening her eyes. “Michael misses you. We both miss you—”

“I’m not yours to miss, and he’s not—” Saying the words still twisted at him. “Michael’s not my son. I’m not leaving town, Carly—”

“You’re staying for that simpering little nothing—”

“I’m not leaving town with you,” Jason retorted. “I wouldn’t go to the end of the block with you. Not ever again.”

“You’re never going to forgive me—”

“I’ve put up with a lot from you,” he cut in sharply. “More than I should have. You had me arrested last year, Carly. You treated Robin like garbage. I let that go—”

“You loved me—you said you did!”

“I was wrong. You married my brother and had me arrested for kidnapping,” he repeated. “And then you slept with my best friend because you saw me with someone else? And if that wasn’t enough—you’re threatening Bobbie and Elizabeth with arrests for saving my life—”

Carly pressed her lips together. “I did all of that because I’m miserable! Okay? I just—you need to help me, Jason. Please. Please. I love you. You know you love me. Give me one more chance—”

“You’ve had all the chances. Don’t go after Bobbie or Elizabeth. You’ll regret it.”

He left her standing on the pier, his hands nearly shaking with rage—and worry. If the only way to get Carly to back off from her threats was to leave town with her—

What the hell was he going to do?

Carly scowled after him, then stalked off in the opposite direction,  the heels of her boots clacking against the wooden pier. When she’d disappeared,  a man stepped out from a corner at the top of the stairs. He took out his cell phone and pressed one of the speed dials. “Yeah? Tony—get me Sorel. No, following the dumb blonde finally paid off. I got something he might be interested in.”

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