October 7, 2020

This entry is part 6 of 18 in the Flash Fiction: Shot in the Dark

Written in 63 minutes. Went a few minutes over bc I really wanted the ending to be just right. No time for spell check.


Plane

By the time Spinelli had transferred the photo to the computer to study the metadata or whatever it was, Laura had sent it to Elizabeth so that she could have it for herself. Elizabeth sat on a sofa and just stared at it, tracing her little boy’s face. She felt Jason’s weight next to her and she looked at him. “It has to be real,” she managed. “It has to be. He’s—this is exactly what he’d look like. He’s just—” A tear slid down her cheek as she looked back at Jake. “He’s lost some of the baby fat in his cheeks, see—”

“Yeah.” He put an arm around her shoulder and Elizabeth curled into his embrace, angling the phone so they could both look at the photo. “He looks like you,” Jason said after a minute.

“Really?” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “I always thought he was more like you. The blonde hair, blue eyes—” She closed her eyes. “He had this way of smiling at me, and I just—I let him get away with murder. There was just this—this twinkle he’d get that was so much like you—”

“Twinkle?” Jason raised his brows and she smiled up at him. “Don’t let Sonny hear you say that.”

She laughed. “You know what I mean—that agitating mood you get in when you’re teasing me. Remember the Christmas party? Before Nikolas came in acting like an idiot, and you stole my stupid Santa hat?” When he nodded, she continued, “that’s what I mean. Jake could get the same look.”

She looked over at the table where Spinelli was studying the photo. “Is it real?” Elizabeth asked him, raising her voice so that it carried over to him.

Spinelli blinked, then looked up. “Oh.” He leaned back. “Yeah. Yeah. It’s about—” He squinted. “It’s about a week old. And it was taken in Greece. I can’t get it any closer, but it’s real. It looks like the raw photo an iPhone would take. If it’s faked, I can’t find the evidence.” He stared at them. “And if it’s real—”

“Then Jake either has a twin or that’s him,” Sonny said. He looked at Laura. “You knew Luke was holding something back.”

“And when we land, I am going to punch him so hard,” Laura muttered. “He had an actual photo of Jake and didn’t—” She took a deep breath. “Spinelli, where are you in the rest of it? The island?”

“I’ve got all the aerial footage I can get here, and I’ll be able to put together pretty good maps and keep you out of trouble,” Spinelli said. “There’s not much else I can do until we land. I’ll be able to tap into the local—”

Elizabeth frowned at her phone lighting up with Patrick’s number. “Patrick?” she said, putting him on speaker phone. “What’s wrong? Are the kids okay?”

“The kids are now staying with Lulu and Maxie,” Patrick said. “I’m on my way to the airport with Anna. We’re meeting Robert in Athens.” He paused. “I got a message from Robin.”

“What?” Sonny jerked out of his seat, his eyes wide. “Robin?”

“She sent it through an unnamed number,” Patrick continued, his voice tinny as their connection faded for a minute, “but I know it’s her. We have a code. She used it.” His voice faltered. “She’s alive. And the Cassadines have her and the world was ending. She said I need to bring the cavalry. And she wanted Jason. She must know about Jake.”

“Okay, let me know when you’re landing in Athens,” Elizabeth said. “We’ll—we’ll make sure you get a connection to Mykonos and we’ll regroup there.” She hung up with Patrick, her pulse still racing.

Robin was alive. Jake was alive. The Cassadines had them both. “She wanted the calvary—and Jason. Patrick’s right—she wouldn’t have asked for Jason if she didn’t know about Jake.”

Laura nodded. “The calvary would definitely be Robert and Anna,” she murmured. “Robert would still know the island like the back of his hand, and no one is going to separate them from Robin. Why the hell would Helena want Robin—”

Elizabeth exhaled slowly as Laura’s voice broke off. Their eyes met. “Maybe the same reason she wanted Tony Jones,” Elizabeth said. “Robin’s done some amazing work on brain chemistry. Look at what she did for Jason—” She looked at him. “Your memories in 2005 and then last year—”

“Oh, man—” Sonny’s voice was a low moan as he sat down. “Don’t tell me the Cassadines are raising the dead again.”

“It looks like they already have,” Laura said. “Do you think it was Stavros that Robin brought back?”

“If it was just Stavros,” Elizabeth said slowly as she stood up, “then Helena would have gotten rid of Robin. And Nikolas is part of this, probably playing the same role he did ten years ago during Endgame.” She paused. “Laura—”

“Don’t say it—” Laura shook her head. “Don’t even—”

“Mikkos was frozen to death,” Elizabeth said. “What if—” she swallowed hard. “How sure are we that Helena hasn’t been searching for a way to bring him back—”

“Damn it.” Laura squeezed her eyes shut. “Robin said the world was ending. I think she might mean that literally.”

Jason just stared the both of them wordlessly, unsure how to operate in this world. He looked at Sonny who appeared as lost as he did. They worked in a world of rules—physical rules. You shot someone, they died.

He’d never really appreciated the danger Elizabeth had lived through as a connection to the Spencer family, and watching her and Laura debate the situation while he and Sonny sat on the sidelines —

“What do we know for sure?” Sonny said. “We know Jake and Robin are alive. Nikolas is hopefully a friend, but honestly—” He looked at Laura regretfully who nodded.

“He could be either,” she agreed.

“Luke definitely knows more than he’s saying, and I don’t think the picture is all he’s holding back,” Sonny continued. “He said Lucky threatened to kill Nikolas?”

“The last time Lucky threatened to kill Nikolas,” Elizabeth said, with a light flush, “wasn’t when he found out about the affair. It was when he was being controlled by Helena.” She pressed her lips together. “How did Luke and Lucky find out Jake was alive?”

“Could Helena have wanted this?” Jason said finally. Their eyes turned to him. “I don’t have a lot of experience, but this is a lot of things happening at the same time. Robin finally manages to get a message to Patrick the same night Luke calls us about Jake? We’re all going to Greece at the same time? Stavros Cassadine is alive. You think there’s a chance Mikkos might be, too,” he continued.

“She’s trying to play the game again,” Elizabeth realized. “She never really forgave Nikolas for betraying her, and she blamed me for it.” She hesitated, focused on Laura. “She kidnapped Jake because of me. Not Luke. To hurt me. And, oh, God, she might mean for Lucky to kill Nikolas. As revenge.”

“Well—” Laura took a deep breath, squared her shoulders. “The Cassadines have already aimed at my family more than once. We’ve always won.” She offered Elizabeth a faint smile. “We’ve done this before, Elizabeth, but we didn’t finish it. We thought it was over when Stavros died, but—”

“But this time Helena has to go,” Elizabeth agreed. “We need to cut the head off or it’ll just grow back.”

“I would really like to retire from hunting Cassadines,” Laura said fervently. Her smile broadened, turned a touch mean. “We’ve left it up to the Spencer men a little too long, haven’t we? I think it’s time for the Webber women to do some damage of their own.”

Mykonos, Greece: Airport

Sonny and Laura went to go take care of the customs officials — Sonny had money and Laura knew how to bribe officials in most European countries thanks to her years on the run while Spinelli started working on getting a local connection so he could hack into the Cassadine estate’s cameras.

This left Jason and Elizabeth standing with their luggage, waiting for them to return. Elizabeth frowned at him slightly. “Are you okay? You didn’t say much on the plane.”

“I am—” Jason paused. “Processing,” he admitted. “This time yesterday, Jake and Robin—” He looked out over the hills barely visible through the morning fog. “And now—” He met her eyes. “I’ve gone against some of the most dangerous men in the world, but I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never really had to deal with the Cassadines, and now—” He cleared his throat. “I think about all the times I pushed you away because of the danger—”

“Jason—”

“And I’m sorry,” he continued, “because it’s clear that you’ve faced worse. Because the Cassadines? They’re not like anything or anyone I can predict.”

“It’s scary,” Elizabeth acknowledged, “and they’ve been haunting Laura her entire life. They stole her away from her life—Helena and Stavros forced her to marry him. For years, she endured that abuse. And I wish it could be over for her.”

“I just don’t know how much help I can be in a situation like this,” he continued.

“Can you still shoot?” she asked, dryly. “Pilot a boat if we need it? Keep Spinelli from getting distracted? Move quietly? Jason—Luke and Laura didn’t know anything about them either, and they saved the world. I don’t need to save the world. I just want my son back. And I want my friend to come home.” She leaned up on her toes, pressing her lips against his. He wrapped his arms around her waist, dragging her closer, deepening the kiss.

“We’re going to bring Jake home,” Elizabeth told him when she drew back. “That’s what matters. Jake and Robin. And yeah, I want to make Helena pay for putting us through this. For putting Patrick and you and everyone who loved Jake and Robin through hell these last few years. I need you to be strong in all the ways I can’t be.” She searched his eyes. “Can you do that?”

“Yeah,” Jason said, leaning down to kiss her again. “I can do that.”

“All right, we’re good to go,” Sonny said as he and Laura returned. “The jet is heading over to Athens,” he continued, “where it’ll be waiting for the rest of them. We’re going into the city to meet with Luke?”

“Yeah, I told him I want to meet him in a public place.” Laura paused. “Sonny, you and Spinelli should find somewhere safe to set up. I don’t trust Luke, not if Lucky’s been compromised. Spinelli—”

“Get the security feed—number one priority,” Spinelli agreed with a firm nod. “Mr. Sir?”

“Jason,” Laura said, turning to him. “I think Elizabeth and I should meet Luke alone—” Jason opened his mouth to argue. “You can be nearby. “I’m sure you know how to blend in if you need to.”

“I can manage it, I’ve been to Greece,” Jason replied. “But—”

“If Helena is watching,” Laura said, “she probably already knows we’re here. So we need to throw her off. And if she isn’t—then Luke will never talk to you the way he’ll talk to Elizabeth.” She looked at her former daughter-in-law. “Play him with the guilt. Rub it in. Helena might have kidnapped Jake, but Luke was still driving the car. And he lied to you. Kept the photo back.”

Elizabeth nodded with a clench of her jaw. “Yeah, it’s not hard to find the anger,” she told Laura.

“Exactly. We’ll signal you,” Laura told Jason, “when we’re ready for you to join us, but I want Luke to feel outnumbered. I’ll go after him on Lucky, Elizabeth will kick him with Jake, and we’ll find out what we’s hiding faster.”

“I’m just the muscle,” Jason said. “You obviously know this better. Just tell me where you want me and who to shoot.”

“I like a man who can take directions.” Laura beamed at him. “Let’s get to work.”

Cosmo Cafe: Outdoor

Luke got to his feet when Laura and Elizabeth approached, his hesitant smile fading as the women approached. He cleared his throat. “No Morgan?”

“He went to get set up with Spinelli,” Elizabeth said. She drew out an iron chair and took a seat. Laura sat next to her, then Luke gingerly lowered himself back into his chair across from them. “You’re going to need a good excuse when you see him, by the way.”

Luke grimaced. “Darlin’, I know I held back the photo, but—” he spread out his hands. “I wanted to make sure Laura would come—”

“There wasn’t a chance in hell I would stay at home,” Laura cut in ruthlessly. “Cut the bullshit, Luke.”

“Are there more?” Elizabeth asked, her voice trembling slightly. Laura glanced at her, but Elizabeth didn’t look at her, didn’t even glance at Jason who had taken a table ten feet away, dressed in tourist clothes, complete with a pair of sunglasses and a hat. He really did know how to blend — he was sitting behind Luke, completely out of his eye line.

“More—”

“More photos? Of my little boy? I haven’t seen him—” Elizabeth pressed a finger to her lips. “He’s two years older, and they stole that time from me. And Nikolas—he’s sitting next to him. I need—”

Luke pulled out his phone, started rifling through them, then shoved it across the table. “Here,” he said in a rush. “I know, kid, I know it hurts. When I found out the Cassadines took Cowboy—”

Elizabeth stared at a photo, looked at the date underneath it, then looked up. “You’ve known my son was alive since December. At least.” She clutched the phone tightly. “While I was buying him gifts and hiding them in a closet so no one would think I was crazy—you knew Jake was alive—”

“Luke!” Laura said, her eyes bulging. “How could you—”

“I knew Jake was safe enough,” Luke said. He put up his hands. “Let me—let me explain—”

“How can you possibly explain this?” Laura demanded. She planted her hands on the glass table top and leaned forward. “Three months. Three months! Of all people—you drove the car that started all of this—”

Elizabeth squeezed her eyes closed. “Why? Why call now? What’s changed?” She looked at Laura, saw the other woman adjust her self. Back to the plan. Back on track.

“Lucky,” Luke said slowly. “At first, we were doing recon. You know, trying to find the weak spots. We got that picture just before Christmas. The first—” He sucked in a deep breath. “The first real proof. I wanted—I wanted to call you. Lucky wanted to call you,” he told her. “He’s got this idea he’ll give you Jake, and it’ll be like it was again—Lucky and Liz.”

“That’s over,” Elizabeth said flatly.

“I know it, but he—he couldn’t get it out of his head. And then—” Luke nodded at the phone. “He saw Jake with Nikolas. And it was—” His voice shook then. “It was like a switch in his head. Like before.”

Laura nodded grimly. “Helena.”

“We never broke it,” Luke said with a shake of his head. “It’s always been there. Always in his brain. Like a bomb. Lucky nearly killed Nikolas that day. I’ve spent the last three months trying to fix it, trying to talk him down, trying to find the trigger—” He looked at Elizabeth. “You need—you need to save my boy. Just one more time, darlin’, save my son.”

Elizabeth stared at him for a long time, then shook her head. “It’s not my job to save Lucky,” she said. “You took Jake from me. The night of the accident, you hit my little boy. He didn’t die, but that doesn’t matter, Luke. You put him in that hospital, close to death. And then you stole three months from me. It’s not my job to save Lucky,” she repeated.

“Angel—” Luke switched his attention to Laura. “You gotta see, if we can break the control—”

“We’ve got bigger problems than that,” Laura told him, regretfully. “Because Robin Scorpio is alive and being held by Helena.”

Luke bowed his head, all the fight sinking out of him. “So you know. You know that Mikkos is back.”

“Wait—” Elizabeth jerked up and Laura stared at Luke. “Wait—he’s actually—it’s not something Robin is working on?”

“No—” Luke nodded at the phone. “Go to the last photo. It’s why I called.”

Elizabeth handled Laura the phone and she scrolled to the last one, her face paling. She showed it to Elizabeth.

She’d only seen Mikkos in photographs, but there was no mistaking the people in the picture, clustered around a dining table. Helena and Mikkos. Stavros and Nikolas. Jake. And Stefan Cassadine. Her little boy surrounded by the darkest evil she’d ever known.

“All alive,” Laura breathed. “All four of them.” She raised her eyes to Luke. “All the Cassadines.”

“Yeah, and I got word from a contact—” Luke’s smile was grim. “Valentin is on his way to Greece. The Cassadines are about to have a family reunion, and Jake is in the middle of it all.”

October 5, 2020

This entry is part 6 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Not Knowing When

Written in 57 minutes. Time for a spellcheck but not rereading for a typo.


Cosmopolitan Hotel: Master Suite

With Elizabeth’s hand in his, Jason walked out of the bedroom and stopped in front of Sonny. “We need a new plan,” he said bluntly.

Sonny frowned, narrowing his eyes. “I thought we agreed—ow!” He glared at Brenda who whacked him in the stomach. “Will you stop hitting me? I already have a busted nose—” He sent Elizabeth an irritated look.

“You’ve deserved every hit,” Brenda retorted.

Sonny’s scowl only deepened when he turned back to Jason. “I thought you wanted her out of this—that you wanted the PCPD to lose the scent. As soon as they get over this—”

“We need a new plan,” Jason repeated. “Elizabeth is coming back to the penthouse. That’s not—” He glanced at her and the sight of her tremulous smile bolstered him. He focused on Sonny again. “She’s coming home with me, but I don’t—we don’t have to volunteer that we got married in Vegas.”

Sonny narrowed his eyes. “So how we do explain this whole—” He waved his finger in a circle indicating the room. “The two of you came to Vegas and didn’t get married? They’re never going to buy it—”

“They will,” Elizabeth said. “Because—” She sighed. “You’re right, Sonny. The second Taggert or Scott find out that Jason and I got married, they’re not going to believe it’s not related. But—” She met Jason’s eyes. “But if I tell them that I came to Vegas with Jason because he was on business for you so that we could get away from things in Port Charles, that’s not too far from the truth.”

“And the pier?” Sonny retorted. “You’re going to lie—”

“It’s not the first time,” Elizabeth reminded him caustically. “And I don’t even have to lie much. I was walking on the pier after work, heard gunshots, got scared, and ran. I went to see Jason, and you told me he was in Vegas. So I came here to see him. We’re coming back because he’s done and, well, there’s a warrant out for me.” She shrugged. “Some of that is even true.”

Sonny pressed his lips together. “It might work,” he admitted. He rubbed the back of his neck. “All right. We’ll try it. But, uh—” He looked at Jason. “Do you want to call Carly before we get back or wait until we get home?”

“Scared of a tiny blonde,” Brenda sighed. “You hate to see it.”

“After,” Jason definitively. “And she—” He winced, looked at Elizabeth. “We can’t tell her,” he said. “She’ll never keep it to herself.”

With a sigh, Elizabeth shrugged a shoulder. “She’s your friend, not mine. I mean, it’s not like I want to see her head explode.” When Brenda snorted, Elizabeth’s mouth twitched. “Okay, maybe a little.”

Port Charles: Limo

With the time difference, it was nearly nine at night by the time the limo pulled into Harborview Towers — Brenda had attempted to get a car to her cottage, but Sonny had vetoed it. Brenda had sulked and threatened to run away, and they’d bickered the entire drive home.

Elizabeth sat next to Jason, their hands still laced together. She stared at his fingers, wrapped around hers, still not sure how anything in the last twenty-four hours had really happened. Had she really been shot at on the pier? Dragged to Vegas —

Had she really married Jason?

She looked at Jason who was frowning at Sonny and Brenda across the car. “At some point,” she said softly, too softly for the bickering ex-couple to hear her. “We’re going to have to figure this out.”

Jason glanced at her, then nodded. “Yeah. I know.” He drew their hands into his lap, sliding his thumb over the back of her hand. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. Their eyes met. “For hurting you. Back at the hotel. When I agreed to the first plan.”

“You were trying to keep me safe,” Elizabeth said. She leaned her head against his shoulder, her eyes drifting closed. “I’m used to it.”

“But I shouldn’t do it by making decisions for you. And I’m sorry,” he said again.

“I’m sorry, too,” she murmured. “For running. Won’t do that…” Her voice trailed off, and she slid into sleep.

Harborview Towers: Hallway

Unfortunately for Sonny, Carly was waiting for him in the hallway and her eyes nearly bulged out of her face when the elevators doors open, and Jason stepped out, cradling a sleeping Elizabeth and Brenda trailing after him.

“What the—”

Sonny grimaced, putting a hand up. “Just—just don’t. We’ll—”

“Don’t tell me—what is she doing here?” Carly hissed as Brenda unlocked Jason’s door and he carried Elizabeth in. “Damn it, Sonny — what the hell is going on—”

“Are you always like this?” Brenda asked. She folded her arms. “You know, I think I liked my life better when I never had to see you. When I died, you were locked up in the loony bin. Why did they let you out?”

Carly hissed and took a step forward. Sonny stepped between the two of them, holding his hands up as he faced Carly. “Carly—”

Jason stepped back out of the penthouse, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Carly, go home,” he said, flatly. “We’ll talk in the morning. Brenda is staying in my guest room because she’s not safe at the cottage—”

“Don’t tell me to go home—you don’t get to give me orders—”

“I do when I’ve barely slept in the last three days,” Jason cut in. He took a short breath. “Carly. I’m tired. You can yell at Sonny in your penthouse. Go do that. He deserves it.”

Sonny tossed his friend a beleaguered look, but clearly he hadn’t been forgiven for dragging Elizabeth across the country on a lie then asking them to pretend to be broken up for a few more weeks.

“Good night, Carly,” Jason said. He took Brenda’s elbow and swung her into the penthouse. For once, the brunette didn’t argue with him.

“And why is the muffin back!” Carly threw up her hands as she whirled around and stalked back into the penthouse. “I was so close to getting him to date Courtney—”

“You weren’t even remotely in the ball park,” Sonny said, exhausted. “I’m going to sleep—”

“Oh, hell no. You’re going to tell me where you disappeared to last night, how Brenda ended up there—why didn’t return my phone calls—” Carly broke off abruptly as Sonny walked past her and started up the stairs. “I’m not done talking to you—”

“I’ll start listening again in the morning.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Jason winced at the sight of Brenda’s bags next to the sofa, a harsh reminder of her visit the day before and how close he’d come to making such a terrible decision. “I’m going to bed,” he said, walking over to the sofa to pick up Elizabeth where he’d left her.

“She’s really out, huh?” Brenda asked conversationally as she walked up the stairs behind them, one of her bags over her shoulder. “You’d think she’d wake up with that harpy—”

“Brenda—” Jason turned at the top of the stairs. “Pick a room and leave me alone.”

“You know,” Brenda said, putting her hands on her hips. “You could be nicer to me. I did you a favor.” She nodded at the sleeping woman in his arms. “You think you’d be waking up to married to her tomorrow if I hadn’t started this—”

Jason started to reply, then nodded. “You’re right. In a way that is barely related to you, I—” He looked down at Elizabeth, who shifted a little in her sleep, burrowing her face deeper into his shoulder. “I have everything I want.”

Startled, Brenda just stared at him. “Wait. Really?”

“So tomorrow, when we’ve all had a chance to sleep, we’re going to figure out how to get you what you want,” Jason promised her. “So—pick a room.”

“All right.” She waited until he was nearly down the end of the hall. “I’m glad, Jase. That we didn’t go through with it. It would have been really stupid.”

“Yeah, it would have. Good night, Brenda.”

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

Elizabeth moaned slightly as a beam of sunlight hit her eyes. She rolled over and buried her face in the soft pillow beneath her cheek. “Five more minutes,” she murmured. “I’ll go to school later.”

A light laugh broke through her hazy mind, and Elizabeth opened her eyes. She rolled over to find Jason leaning up on his elbow, laying stretched out next to her on his bed.

His bed.

She jackknifed into a sitting position, blinking around the room. “Wait. We’re—how long—” She cleared her throat, scrubbing her hands down her face. “I barely remember getting off the plane.”

“Yeah, you fell sleep not long after we left the airport,” Jason told her. He tipped his head to the side. “It’s almost eight.”

Elizabeth winced. “Oh, man, Mike is gonna kill me. I think I was supposed to open—” She hesitated. “Wait, what day is it?”

“Thursday,” Jason said. “I’m sure Mike will understand—”

“Yeah, but Penny won’t. She’s the only other waitress Mike trusts to open—” Elizabeth flopped back on the bed. “Oh well. We were supposed to open three hours ago, so I guess there’s no point in getting irritated. I’ll just have to make it up to her.” She bit her lip, and looked at him, all that gorgeous golden skin in the sunlight. She grinned. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he replied. He leaned down to kiss her lightly, just a brush of his mouth against hers. She sighed dreamily, tracing his cheekbone with her fingertips. “I need clothes,” she murmured.

“You left a few things here,” Jason said. He twirled a piece of her hair around his finger. “We’ll get your things from the studio.” He paused. “If you want.”

“There’s no point in me coming back here if I don’t have clothes.” Her smile deepened. “I mean, I guess we could stay naked the whole time, but I don’t think Sonny would appreciate it.”

“Hey, I have clothes,” Jason said with another grin. He leaned down to kiss her bare shoulders. “You can wear all my shirts.”

“Hmm—the idea has merit but—” She sighed as his mouth trailed across her collarbone. “Do we have to get up?”

“No—” Jason began, then winced as something pounded below them. He let his forehead drop to her chest. “That’s the door.”

“We could ignore it,” Elizabeth suggested, helpfully. “I mean, the PCPD can’t just come in without a warrant, but—”

She frowned when she heard voices. “Jason — is that—”

With a scowl, Jason sat up. “Yeah, that’s Brenda and Carly.” He rubbed his cheek. “I told Carly I’d talk to her in the morning. I guess I should be relieved she didn’t come over at dawn.”

“It’s the little things,” Elizabeth said, forcing a smile. “Are my things still in the guest room? I didn’t know what I left—”

“Uh, a dress, I think. And some—” He scratched his neck. “Some jeans. They were in the laundry room,” he mumbled. “And they’re—” He nodded at the closet. “They’re in there.”

“In—” Elizabeth frowned at him. “In your closet? Why?”

“I—” Jason’s cheeks were a bit red as he took a deep breath. “I meant to give them to you, but then I—” He paused. “Then I thought you’d come back for them. And then—” He shook his head. “I cleaned out the guest room,” he muttered, “so that Brenda could use it. Before we went to Vegas.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth bit her lip, staring at the comforter. “She was going to stay in there—”

“She is—” Jason winced. “She’s there now or at least that’s where I think she ended up. You fell asleep in the car, I guess you didn’t hear—”

Elizabeth absorbed the fact that Jason had cleaned what little she’d left behind from the room where she’d slept so that he could park the woman he’d nearly married. And then that woman had slept there anywhere last night.

She wasn’t really sure how she felt about it.

“Elizabeth—”

“It’s okay,” she said finally. “I have something I can wear,” she said. “I’ll get the jeans, and if Brenda’s here, maybe she can loan me a shirt. It’s too cold for the dress.” She pushed the comforter aside and slid out of bed. “I’ll get a shower while you go deal with Brenda and Carly.”

“Can’t I just stay up here?” Jason asked, with a wince. Her mood lightened and she leaned forward to kiss him.

“We’ll have plenty of time for showers,” she promised him. “But only if Carly and Brenda aren’t here.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Jason thought he should be relieved that Carly and Brenda hadn’t come to blows in the time they’d been alone downstairs. Brenda was lounging on the sofa, paging through a magazine as Carly glowered near the door.

“Uh, when I said the morning,” Jason told Carly, “I mean I would come to see when I was ready—”

“You went to Vegas,” Carly said, jabbing a finger in his chest. “And I saw that bitch’s luggage—why the hell did you take her to Vegas, Jase? And don’t give me the bullshit story Sonny’s trying to feed me. You and Brenda went there first. Sonny and Elizabeth followed. How dumb do you think I am?”

“Brenda, shut up,” Jason said, not even turning around. He heard Brenda grumbling in the background. “In fact — can you loan Elizabeth something to wear until we get to the studio to get her things?”

“I wanna watch the show,” Brenda complained, but she crossed over to a suitcase, and unzipped it.

“Jason,” Carly began but Jason turned back to her, irritated beyond belief. How many times had he been alone with Elizabeth when Carly had called—

“It’s none of your business why I was in Vegas,” Jason said shortly. “All you need to know is Elizabeth is living here. Don’t make that face—”

“Jason—”

“And don’t start. I’ve got enough problems without you adding to them.”

“Hey, you wanna get dirty with the muffin—” Carly held up her hands. “Listen, we all need to make mistakes. But you know the PCPD came by yesterday looking for her. Zander—” She hesitated. “Zander’s dead, Jase. And they think Elizabeth knows something.”

“I know that—”

“So please tell me,” Carly began, “that you didn’t do anything stupid—”

The front door opened behind them as Sonny came in, and Jason winced as he saw Taggert and Scott right behind him.

“—like marry Elizabeth in Vegas—” Carly’s words were spoken nearly at the same time the men walked in and Sonny just closed his eyes. Carly turned at the intrusion, saw Sonny’s face and the men with him. “Oh, damn it, Jason!” she swore.

“That’s an excellent question, Anger Boy,” Taggert drawled as he leaned against the door frame. “Care to answer it?”

October 4, 2020

This entry is part 5 of 18 in the Flash Fiction: Shot in the Dark

Written in 57 minutes. No time for spell check or typos. made a mistake in part 2 — Jake is turning 6 in 2013, not 5


Port Charles Airport: Private Hangar

Elizabeth wasn’t expecting both of the men who met them at the steps of Sonny’s private plane, but she was touched to see Sonny Corinthos standing next to Spinelli. Since his botched wedding to Kate a few months ago, Sonny had been laying low, struggling with Kate’s relapse and struggle with her dissociative identity disorder.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” Jason said, echoing Elizabeth’s thoughts as Laura and Spinelli boarded to get started on retcon — Elizabeth knew Spinelli was planning to pull anything Laura remembered from her time on the island to help them put together everything they could before they landed in Mykonos, the closest airport to the Cassadine’s private, unnamed island.

“You tell me there’s a chance your son is alive,” Sonny began, “and I’m not staying home. How many times did you put yourself on the line for my kids?” He set a hand against his chest, his voice a bit rusty.

“Thank you,” Elizabeth told him. She squeezed his other hand. “Did you put Carly on guard to make sure Joss doesn’t find a way to get to Jax’s plane?”

Sonny grinned, his dimple flashing. “Funny thing — Carly was still on the phone with me when she caught Joss trying to sweet talk Jax into coming back from Sydney.”

Jason just shook his head lightly. “They were really planning it,” he said incredulously.

“You mean Robin, Elizabeth, and Carly’s kids were planning to help?” Sonny snorted. “Of course they were.”

“I think that was half compliment, half insult—” Sonny just laughed as he turned and boarded the plane.

Elizabeth looked up the stairs after him. Once she boarded, once the plane took off this — this was real.

“Whatever we find in Greece,” Jason told her, his voice quiet against her ear, “we’ll get through it.”

“The hope hurts more than anything else,” she murmured. “If Luke is lying to us—if he’s wrong—” She looked at Jason. “I’m just barely getting past losing him.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “But if there’s even a small chance he’s out there—”

“We’ll bring him home,” Jason told her.

Inside the airplane, Spinelli had already set up mission control at a large table, his fingers flying over a laptop. He said something to Laura who was peering over her shoulder.

“You need to get belted in for take set off,” Jason told him as he stored his and Elizabeth’s bags in one of the compartments. “We can get back to this—”

“I can’t believe you’re tapping into active satellites,” Laura said, a touch of wonder in her voice. She sat next to Sonny in one of the take off chairs, pulling the seatbelt across her lap. “When I was on the island with Luke back with the Ice Princess, all we had were the crappy maps Robert pilfered from the WSB—”

“Speaking of Sir Robert,” Spinelli said as Jason grabbed him by the shoulder and all but shoved him into his takeoff chair before returning to the table and closing the laptop and securing it for take off. “Have we considered calling in reinforcements?”

“Not until we know more,” Laura said. “Luke—I’m sure there’s more he’s not telling me. How did he and Lucky get on this trail in the first place? Robert will want to call in Anna, and Luke does not want that—”

She sighed, looked at Sonny as if noticing she was next to him for the first time. “Thank you. For the use of the plane.”

“Almost like old times,” Sonny said. “You still handy with a shotgun?”

About twenty minutes later, the plane had taken off and made it to cruising altitude. Spinelli threw off his seatbelt and rushed back over to his computer.

“Can you zoom in with the satellites?” Sonny asked as they crowded him. “Get some eyes on who is where?”

“No so much,” Spinelli said with a frown as he continued typing. “But once we’re on the ground in Greece, and closer, I can use the satellite connection to pick up any security camera feeds. Once I know what I’m looking for, I can hack in and get some better information.”

“Can he really do that?” Elizabeth asked, folding her arms. It had been years since she’d seen Spinelli at work. She bit her lip.

“I used to doubt him, too,” Jason admitted, putting arm around her shoulders. “But he was able to get me inside the Metro Court when it was taken hostage.” They traded a glance, both remembering that because he’d been there, he’d been able to save her life—and she’d told him about Jake.

“I have it!” Spinelli announced. He grinned at Laura. “Does this look familiar?”

“Yes—” Laura gestured at the screen. “That’s the main estate. The house that Mikkos’ father built when they came to Greece after fleeing Russia. It was built into the cliff, and—” She took a deep breath. “It’s where I lived.”

“What about the grounds?” Jason said , and she blinked. “What other buildings?”

“There was a dower house,” Laura continued. “In the gardens. There’s a vineyard, of course. And orchards. And Stavros had elaborate English gardens planted while I was there.” She nodded as Spinelli moved the satellite. “Yes — the dower house was in the English gardens. Mikkos’ mother lived there, but I think she’d died. Just before the Ice Princess, maybe.” She squinted at the screen. “That wasn’t there when we came in 1980,” she said. “And I don’t remember it from my time.”

“But it could have been added since—” Sonny began, but Laura shook her head.

“Stefan never cared much for Greece,” she told him. “He preferred the London house and the estate in Scotland. He raised Nikolas there most of the time to keep him from Helena as much as possible. He never added on. This wouldn’t have been there before 2003.”

“Added in the last decade doesn’t mean much,” Elizabeth said, then she paused. “Spinelli—” She leaned into the screen. “Am I wrong, or does that building look wrong?”

“Wrong?”

“It doesn’t fit,” Laura said with a nod. “If Nikolas had added it, he’d have made it match the rest of the estate. But this is an ugly, square building. A concrete block.”

“Wait—zoom out—” Jason waited as Spinelli obeyed. “And it’s set apart. Not the way the other house is—but—”

“Isolated,” Sonny said.

“We’ll want to start there for camera access,” Laura decided. “It’s probably one of Helena’s labs. She always had a hole to run to. She has something on Spoon Island, I’m sure of it. She’s able to slip in and out too much.”

“All right,” Spinelli said. “I’ll keep mapping the island, and try to get a sense of what kind of activity we can expect. I can probably find out if the coast is heavily guarded. It’s going to be hell getting on and off the island—”

“Luke will have that covered,” Sonny said. “He was always handy with a boat.”

Mykonos, Greece

Luke sat on the terrace of the flat he had arranged for him and Cowboy, lingering over a cigar as he looked out over the Adriatic Sea and the dim lights of the Cassadine estate in the distance.

Behind him, Lucky was pacing and raging—another day with bad tides meant another scuttled rescue plan to the island. Luke glanced down at his phone when it lit up. His chest eased as he saw Laura’s text.

On my way. In the air now. Bringing Jason and Elizabeth. And friends. Don’t go to the island until we get there.

Then another message.

Luke, tell me again that you’re sure. Tell me we’re not doing this to Elizabeth without proof.

Luke exhaled, picked up the phone and opened up the message app. He’d held this back, had waited until he knew Laura was coming. Had worried if he sent this — she might not come, too.

He needed her. Cowboy needed her.

Angel, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my whole life. If that’s not our boy, then he’s got a twin.

He hit send, then attached the photograph. He turned to look at his son as Lucky flipped a coffee table, wincing. He just hoped they had enough time.

Plane

Laura made a face when Luke’s first message came through — if he Angel’d her one more time—

And then the bottom fell out of her world as the photograph loaded. She brushed her fingers on the image, then zoomed in. She looked up to find Elizabeth sitting on one of the sofas, talking quietly to Jason. He said something, and Elizabeth smiled at him.

Laura looked back at the image of the little boy sitting next to Nikolas on a bench in the middle of a garden — at the grinning, blonde boy with his father’s eyes and mother’s smile.

If this wasn’t Jake—

“Elizabeth,” Laura managed. She looked up, tears spilling over her cheeks. “Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth got to her feet, alarm spreading across her expression as she rushed across the plane. “Laura—”

Laura handed her the phone and Elizabeth stared at the photo—Jason was right behind her and they both paled as they took in the little boy.

“He’s—” Elizabeth’s voice faltered. “He’s there.”

“He’s older,” Jason said roughly. “He’s—”

Jake had left them just before he’d turned four. He’d be six in a few months.

“And Nikolas is right there. Jake is smiling at him. He knows him—” Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh, God, oh, God, it’s real—it’s real—he’s real—” She turned to Jason, clutching her hands in his shirt. “You see him, too, don’t you?” she demanded, shrilly. “Tell me you see him, too!”

“I see him.” Jason framed her face in his hands, leaned his forehead against hers as his voice dropped. “I see him. He’s real. He’s alive.”

Spinelli rose from the desk and approached the two of them. “If I could,” he said gently, “if I could see the phone—I could give you reassurances. I can look at the image on my computer and tell you if it’s real. When it was taken. Where.”

With a trembling hand, Elizabeth looked at the phone, shook her head. “N-No—” She clutched it to her chest. “No, I can’t—”

“Come with me,” the younger man said. “You can hold the phone. I’ll put the cord in. I don’t have to touch it. You just—just save it to the camera roll.”

Elizabeth sucked in a shaky breath, the sob rolling through it as she looked down at the photo. Her fingers were shaking so hard she could barely following Spinelli’s instructions so Jason’s larger hand covered hers and he saved the photo so that Spinelli could attach the cord and transfer the photo.

“Luke had that photo the whole time,” Sonny said, his tone tense. “And he held it back.” He traded a troubled look with Laura. “What the hell else is he hiding?”

“I don’t know, but if we can just bring Jake home—” Laura closed her eyes. “I’ll kill my husband later, Sonny. Just—God, I pray Spinelli doesn’t say the photo is fake or altered. I’m not sure she can handle it.”

“She’s stronger than she looks,” Sonny murmured, “but she shouldn’t have to it. If Luke is screwing with them about this for one of his stupid plans—” He shook his head and sat down, putting his head in his hands.

Cassadine Estate: Lab

Nikolas sighed and pushed open the heavy metal door, walking into the square room with its work station and cot. He closed it, then leaned against the door frame. “Hey.”

A woman with dark hair looked up from the desk, the skin beneath her eyes dark purple. “Hey,” she said dully. She cleared her throat. “What time is it?”

“Nearly nine,” Nikolas said. “In the morning,” he added because she was never allowed to leave the lab and there were no windows. “You didn’t sleep again.”

“Couldn’t. If I sleep, I’m wasting time.” She bit her lip, met his eyes. “I think it worked this time. I think the message got out. I just don’t know—God I don’t know if he’ll understand it. Nikolas—” Her voice broke. “I just want this to be over.”

“I promised Jake he’ll be home by his birthday,” Nikolas said with a false smile. “So, let’s hope Patrick can understand what you sent him, and that he gets it to Jason and Elizabeth.”

“Yeah.” Robin Scorpio dragged a hand through her hair. “Yeah, well, when Jason finds out that your family faked Jake’s death—” Her smile was humorless. “Your grandmother is going to wish she’d picked any other enemy. Jason will take her apart.”

“I’m counting on it,” Nikolas admitted. “How soon will you know?”

“I don’t know.” Robin stared at the terminal in front of her. “He just needs to reply to it. C’mon—”

“It’s after midnight there—”

Robin sighed. “You’re right. He’s probably asleep. I guess I should go back to working on Helena’s project. Though why she wants Stefan to wake up when she has Stavros to do her bidding—” She jerked a shoulder.

“It’s best not to expect rational explanations from my grandmother.”

Drake House: Bedroom

Patrick glared at his cell phone as it lit up. He’d just barely managed to break up a fist fight between Cameron and Spencer before Aiden had started to cry, missing his mother — and Emma had started to cry because she wanted to know but her why people came back from the dead but her mother couldn’t —

He just wanted to go to sleep, and nearly ignored the message. But the doctor in him didn’t know how to do that, so Patrick stopped pulling off his shirt to reach for the phone on the table beside his bed.

Then stared at it for a long moment, unable to believe what he was seeing.

race cars. our special code so you know its me. am alive. trapped on cassadine island. world is going to end. need jason and the cavalry. i love you.

Race cars.

The pulse in his temple began to throb as he remembered the night they’d laughed about her parents in the WSB and running operations and having code words— She’d been so beautiful, laughing, and teasing him — telling him that if she were in trouble, she’d send him the words race cars because of their first real date in his hotel room.

He’d laughed at her, but here it was—here it was. Her code. Their code.

His heart pounding, Patrick typed in his code and replied.

pain in the ass. jesus christ. please don’t be a dream please dont be a lie. cavalry already coming. i love you.

He hit send, then dialed his mother-in-law. “Anna? Get Robert on the line. As soon as I find a babysitter, we need to go to Greece. Robin is alive.” Patrick scowled. “No, I’m not on pills again—damn it, Anna—she used our code.”

The other line was silent for a moment.

“I’ll call Mac and Felicia to stay with Emma,” Anna said. “Wheels up in an hour—”

“Great. Oh, and Cameron, Aiden, and Spencer are here, too because Laura, Jason and Elizabeth flew to Greece because Jake is alive, too. See you in an hour—” Patrick hung on Anna’s protestations as he stared at himself in the mirror.

His phone beeped again.

race cars. i can’t believe you really weren’t joking when you said my code name would be pain in the ass. honestly. we’re changing it. can’t wait to see you.

October 3, 2020

This entry is part 3 of 41 in the Flash Fiction: Signs of Life

Written in 54 minutes. Basic spell check, but not reread for typos.


Studio: Hallway

Elizabeth wasn’t sure if she was happy or irritated when she turned the corner and found Jason leaning against the wall next to her door. After the day she’d just had, she wondered if he’d say something that was supposed to reassure her. The last time he’d tried that, she’d just wanted to smack him with a baseball bat.

“Uh, hey.” Jason straightened as she approached and pulled out her keys. “We have a problem.”

“Must be Tuesday,” she muttered. She unlocked her door and shoved it open. “I hope we have the same problem or else my day is going to get worse.”

Jason frowned as he walked into the studio ahead of her. He turned to face her when he reached the sofa. “What do you mean?”

“You first. What’s wrong?” Elizabeth unzipped her jacket and tossed it over the back of the sofa. She unclipped her hair, letting it spill down around her shoulders. She blinked when she realized Jason hadn’t said anything, but was just staring at her. “Jason?”

“What—” He shook his head slightly. “I’m sorry — I — Sonny told me that Nikolas went to the PCPD to try to get me arrested for the Christmas party.”

“Of course he did.” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “Well, that’s funny because my problem is also about the—” She stopped when he winced. “Wait, is that why Taggert and Capelli stopped me on the pier?”

“They already questioned you?” Jason made a face when she nodded. “Damn it. I was hoping to get to you first. Look—I know you were just trying to help, but—” He scrubbed his hands down his face. “What’s the damage? How bad is it?”

Elizabeth stared at him for a long moment, her eyes aching, her lip trembling as it hit her. Why he looked so worried, why he was so irritated —

“The damage,” she repeated softly. “Because I’m a silly little girl who either told them the truth or lied my ass off, right? And either way, now you think I’m in trouble because I don’t know what’s going on.”

Jason flinched, exhaled slowly. “No, that’s not—I just—”

A sharp knock on the door cut him off, and Elizabeth turned away from him, grateful for the interruption. She swiped at her eyes—she was not going to let him see that he’d upset her. First she’d throw him out and then she’d cry.

She peered through the window of the door, then growled. “What the hell—” Elizabeth yanked it open. “I told you, I have nothing to say—”

“Look, Elizabeth, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to—” Taggert froze, then tensed when he spied Jason over her shoulder. “What did you call him to compare stories?” he demanded.

Elizabeth threw open the door and stood back so that both men were facing each other. “What story?” she asked coolly. She folded her arms. “Did I tell you any stories, Taggert?”

“Elizabeth—” Taggert began.

“Let me call Alexis,” Jason said at the same time. Both men stopped talking, then glared at each other.

“Just in case Taggert tries to tell you differently,” Elizabeth said to Jason, “he wanted to ask me a couple of questions. He asked me two. I answered one of them.”

“I’m sorry about Capelli,” Taggert continued.

“He asked me if I saw you on November 30, and I told him yes,” Elizabeth told Jason, ignoring the detective. Not taking her eyes from Jason, she continued, “Taggert, did I tell you anything else?”

“No,” Taggert bit out. “But—”

Jason’s expression didn’t change, but she knew it was because of the cop in the room, so Elizabeth turned back to Taggert. “I told you, I have nothing else to say to you. Or to anyone else at the PCPD. You got two questions. It’s not my fault Capelli wasted the second one. If you want to talk me again, you better have an arrest warrant. Good bye.” She slammed the door in his face and stalked past Jason to sit on the sofa and tug off her boots.

“I’d wait a few minutes for him to leave,” Elizabeth said without looking at Jason. She tossed her boots with her other shoes. “And then you can get out, too.”

“I’m sorry,” Jason said after a long moment of silence. He sat on the sofa, careful to sit as far away from her as possible. “I just—”

“Didn’t trust me,” Elizabeth said. She jerked a shoulder. “It’s fine. You know they’re investigating you for Anthony Moreno, right?”

Jason winced. “Yeah. Did they tell you that?”

“In a roundabout way. Capelli wasted his question trying to be cute,” Elizabeth said. She turned slightly, drawing her leg underneath. “He asked me how long I screwed you before you left to kill Moreno.”

Jason’s expression tensed, and his nostrils flared. “He what—”

“I told him that my personal life isn’t relevant, so I wasn’t answering the question and I walked away. I think Taggert was trying to do good cop, bad cop again.” She rubbed her fist absently against her chest. “I’ll just stay away from them. I’ve already told them I won’t say anything without a lawyer, so we should be fine.”

“Yeah, I—” Jason pressed his lips together. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, his tone softer. “I should have trusted you. You’ve never let me down.”

“Give me time. I’m pretty good at disappointing people.” A lump rose in her throat and she swallowed hard, staring at her fingers. “And, you know, this is my fault anyway. I’m the one that told Nikolas—I’m the reason—”

“Hey—” Jason leaned forward, waiting for her to look up. “He came in and found me half-dressed on your sofa, Elizabeth. He was already thinking it.”

“Yeah, I know, but I didn’t have to throw gasoline—” She sighed. “I think it’s just frustrating. Everyone’s looking at me like I’m doing something wrong. And before you say it’s about you—it’s not. It’s me. Because they all bring up Lucky. That was Nikolas’s problem. Lucky’s only been gone eight months—and my grandmother—” Elizabeth pressed her fingers to her lips. “I wonder if this would hurt even more if it were true.”

Jason frowned slightly, shaking his head. “What do you mean?”

“If—” Elizabeth felt her cheeks heat even as she continued, “if you and I were—if I was dating anyone—” she added, “and people were judging me for moving on. It’s been eight months.” She closed her eyes. “In a few weeks, it’ll be nine months. He’s dead. He’s gone. And I worked so hard to be okay with that.”

“Elizabeth, hey—”

“And I am okay with it. I am,” she insisted, when she could see the doubt in Jason’s expression. “It sucks, and it’s terrible, but I can breathe. I can see a future for myself without him, and that wasn’t true even a few months ago. And the people who love me—they don’t care. They’re not even happy—and if I were really moving on, I think—”

And maybe that was why this hurt so much. Because she was moving on. It didn’t matter that Jason wasn’t moving with her, that he was still just a friend. She knew what her feelings were, even if they didn’t matter. And maybe that’s what Nikolas, Emily, and her grandmother could see.

It hurt like hell that they didn’t want her to be happy, to date again, to fall in love again.

“I really think it is because they think it’s me,” Jason told her softly. “When you do start to—” He paused and his expression almost looked pained, “when do you start to date again, they’ll be fine—”

“But they don’t know the truth,” Elizabeth said, “so for all they know, I’m happy with you, and that doesn’t matter to them—ugh, you don’t get it,” she muttered. She shoved herself off the sofa. “I know, to you, because it’s not true, it shouldn’t matter what they think because in a few weeks—” She wrapped on arm around her waist, and bit the thumb on her other hand. “That’ll be worse,” she muttered.

“How?” Jason asked. She heard him stand, but Elizabeth didn’t turn to face him. “Won’t this be better when everyone moves on to the next thing?”

Because everyone would think he’d broken up with her. No one would ever believe she’d leave him. And for Jason, it would be over, but Elizabeth would still deal with the smirks and the pitying looks. And because telling him that would be too close to admitting that she wanted this to be more, so she closed her eyes, swallowed hard, then turned around to smile at him.

“You’re right. Everything will be better when this is just a memory.”

Jason frowned at her, searching her eyes. “Don’t do that,” he said darkly. “Don’t lie to me.”

“Then don’t—” Elizabeth huffed. “Don’t ask me stupid questions like that, Jason. You’re not a woman, so you don’t get it. This will be better for you when everyone forgets. But no one is going to forget. They’re just going to think we broke up, and—” She hissed. “I’m not doing this. This is the same stupid thing from last night, and I’m just tired. Can we just leave it at that?”

She walked over to the sink, wishing she had some brushes she could pretend to wash. Could she ask him to leave? How could she just get him to leave her alone and stop asking her questions—

“Because of what they said about you,” Jason said slowly, “people are going to think I broke it off.”

Damn, she wished he wasn’t smart or didn’t know her so well. “I know it doesn’t matter what people think. Or that it shouldn’t,” she added. She bit her lip. “But it does. And none of this is your problem. It was my lie that started this, my friends and family who made it public knowledge—”

“You lied for me.” He was closer to her now, and she could almost feel his breath on her neck, shivers sliding across her skin.

Elizabeth slowly turned around—Jason was only a few inches away from her. She lifted her chin so that their eyes met and held. “You were hurt. And I wanted Nikolas to leave so I could make sure you were okay.”

He tucked an errant curl behind her ear, a finger tip sliding around the curve of her ear. “And I am. Because of you.” There was something different in his eyes—something she’d never seen before, and the way his breathing had changed.

“The things they said,” Elizabeth said, “they’re true. I know they’re the reasons you’d never look at me, and it’s going to hurt when people say it’s why—”

“They’re wrong,” Jason told her, his voice husky, his fingertip trailing down her cheek bone to sweep across her chin. “And they don’t know anything about you. Or me.” He dipped his head down, and just before their lips met, “They don’t know anything about us.”

Then he kissed her.

This had not been the plan.

Jason had intended to get to Elizabeth before the PCPD could, and tell her not to say anything without a lawyer. Then he was going to leave because all the gossip would go away faster if they weren’t seen together.

Then he’d been stupid and said something that had hurt her—then Taggert had showed up and proved to Jason that not only had he been stupid—he’d been arrogant to assume Elizabeth would leap at the chance to tell the PCPD they’d spent the night together.

And then she’d been pissed at him, and when she’d walked away from him, upset because he didn’t understand why it mattered what people thought about them because they weren’t technically a them —

The truth had finally slammed into Jason like a freight train and he’d been left feeling slightly stunned. It hurt Elizabeth that people didn’t think she was the kind of woman that would keep him because she wanted to be, and she thought they were right.

And he couldn’t stand her to think that. To entertain it for even a second. So when she’d look at him with her beautiful eyes, and that hair he’d just wanted to slide his hands through since the moment she’d let it down—

Jason stopped thinking.

And he kissed her.

He forced himself to keep it light, to keep it soft—because if he showed her how much he actually wanted her, she might run screaming from the building—

Or maybe Jason wasn’t ready to find out Elizabeth really did feel the same.

Her lips was soft, sweet, and trembled slightly underneath his—then they parted and he dipped his tongue in to taste her, to see if she was sweet all over—

With a sound that might have been a purr, Elizabeth slid her arms around his neck and tipped her head, pressed herself closer to him. Jason’s hands dove into her hair, sliding through the soft, silky strands.

Elizabeth’s hands slid down from his neck to his chest, and then she said gently pushed. Jason stepped back, ending the kiss as they stared at each other, their faces flushed, breathing shallow.

“I—” Elizabeth began, but before either of them could say a word, there was another knock at the door. A pounding. She winced, then went over to the door. “It’s Taggert again,” she said with a mutter.

Jason swore, then yanked the door open. “She told you—” he began, but then stopped as Taggert, with a few other officers behind him, held up a piece of paper.

A search warrant.

October 2, 2020

This entry is part 5 of 27 in the Flash Fiction: A King's Command

Written in 53 minutes. Did a basic spell check, but did not read for typos.


Jason passed a long, sleepless night in the room next door to the room where his new wife slept. After a few hours of listening to Johnny and Francis snore — something Jason was usually able to block out — he gave up and went to sit in front of Elizabeth’s closed door.

During supper in the public rooms, he’d become too aware of the type of men who used the lodgings — and had realized his wife was the only woman on the premises. A woman sleeping alone. He had the Highlander’s natural distrust of people, and there was none he distrusted as much as other men when a beautiful woman was left defenseless.

He passed what was left the night sitting in front of her door, dozing from time to time. He rarely needed much sleep and could go several days without a full night’s rest. He’d be able to relax once they’d left Edinburgh in the morning and were traveling north.

When the clock at St. Giles Cathedral rang the hour, Jason scrubbed his hands over his face, rose to his feet, and returned to his room to rouse his men and send one of them to resume guarding. He wish he had more men for the trip to Braegarie—it would be nearly a month before they could reach the walls of his keep and he knew there much could happen on the road between the capital and the hills of his family’s land.

Francis grumbled when Jason kicked his shoulder, but got to his feet and went to the hallway while Jason went downstairs. He was surprised when the inn keeper was already at his desk. “Laird Morgan,” the man said with a falsely cheerful voice. “A messenger came in the night for you.” He slid a slip of paper across the desk. “Will you be leaving us this morn?”

Jason scowled at the contents of the note. Albany requested they come to the palace later that day so Jason could complete his oath of loyalty. He crumpled it with a clench of his fist. He’d signed his oath in the parish register when he’d married on Albany’s order the day before. “Yes,” he told the innkeeper.

“Will you be needing any food for the road?” the man called as Jason turned away. A refusal was on the tip of his tongue, but then he sighed, remembering it wasn’t just he and his men foraging for themselves.

They had Elizabeth to look after now.

“Yes,” he muttered. “I’ll settle the bill when we leave.”

Upstairs, Elizabeth was surprised when the blond man from the day before knocked on her door and gruffly asked if he should find some water for her to wash with.

“Only if it isn’t any trouble,” Elizabeth said, folding her hands together. “I know it might be my last chance for some time. The road from Annan was quite long, and Father wasn’t able to stop near water often.”

Francis narrowed his eyes at something she’d said—perhaps her father. “The road from the Lowlands is hardly the same as the one to the Highlands,” he said, as if insulted by the comparison.

“So there are more sources of water?” she asked dubiously. “Or perhaps you know the terrain well enough to find them better?”

“I—” Francis shook his head. “I’ll get the water,” he muttered. “Don’t leave the room—”

She drew back as if slapped. “Don’t leave the—” she repeated, but the man had already pulled the door closed in her face. Was she a prisoner? Did her new husband trust her so little? She’d thought—she’d hoped they understood one another better after their conversation the night before, but maybe it had just been her wistful longing. He’d seemed so angry at how her father had treated her —

But he still didn’t know why the regent had forced the marriage, and she could not speak to the reasons either. Beyond the incident with the poison, giving her hand in marriage to the leader of a strong Highland clan made little sense to her, and Elizabeth truly hoped Jason was wrong — that she wasn’t somehow a pawn in some court intrigue she did not understand.

When the door opened again, it wasn’t Francis who came in with a pitcher of water, but her husband. In his other hand, he carried a sack. He tossed it on the bed. “There are warmer clothes,” he told her. “A cloak and some dresses. If they don’t fit—”

“I can make do,” Elizabeth promised, her eyes widening as Jason set the pitcher next to the bowl on the table. “Thank you—”

“No point in having you freeze to death,” he muttered. He paused at the door, then met her eyes. “I’d like you to stay in here until one of us comes to get you,” Jason told her. “There’s—” He paused, looked at the ground for a long moment, as if irritated with himself. “I should have let you spend the night at the palace,” he muttered. “This—this inn isn’t safe.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth rubbed her hand up her arm, some of her unease and disappointment sliding away. He wanted her to be safe. That was all right. “I won’t move from here without you or your men.”

“Thank you. We’ll—we’ll be leaving as soon as possible. Don’t take too long.”

Elizabeth nearly stopped him—nearly asked if she might be able to send word to her brother—she wouldn’t miss her father or her sister much, but, oh, Steven — would she ever see him again?

But Jason had already been kind enough this morning and she was wary of testing him further.

He should have ignored the summons from the king and never come to Edinburgh. If he’d stayed at home, he might not now be married to a woman who knew how to cut him to his knees with a single look in her eye.

Jason had simply told her to stay in the room, and she’d flinched. Not visibly—but he’d seen a shift in the shadows of her eyes and he’d understood it — so he’d explained himself so she’d feel better.

He never explained himself. This husband business was not comfortable, and he was more annoyed with himself as he went to the innkeeper and asked the man to send a note to his wife’s family at their lodgings so that they might say goodbye to her. And he’d sent Johnny out this morning to get more supplies for the trip home, including a tent so that Elizabeth could have some comfort and privacy on the trip home.

Jason wasn’t entirely sure why he’d thought of it, but from Johnny’s expression, he knew he would be taunted about it for years to come. Highland women traveled light like their men, Johnny would tell him, but that was because the man only knew camp followers, not wives.

Jason didn’t know a lot about wives either, but he was sure he knew more than Johnny did.

“I got the tent,” Johnny said as Jason joined him in the street. He patted the pack horse with their supplies. “And I found a mount for milady,” he drawled. “Shall I get some cushions for her saddle?”

Jason just stared at him, then turned away to find Francis tying his saddle bag closed. “Go and get Elizabeth.”

“You don’t want to do that yourself?” Francis asked. “She’s your wife—”

And he thought if she looked at him one more time, he might do something else he didn’t understand, so — “No, I need to settle with the innkeeper.”

Francis coughed as he passed Jason and Johnny, and Jason glared at him because that cough sounded a lot like “Coward.”

A few minutes later, Elizabeth emerged from the inn, her new blue wool cloak fastened around her neck, the hood drawn down so that her curly brown hair spilled over shoulders. Jason stared at him, realizing now he hadn’t seen her hair unbound until now—it had been hidden beneath court hoods and tied back —

Elizabeth’s smile dimmed slightly as she met Jason’s eyes. She turned to look behind her. “What’s wrong?” she asked, drawing her brows together. “Did I forget something?”

“I have your bags,” Francis said as he went to Elizabeth’s horse and put the two sacks of clothing into the saddlebags.

“You’ll ride this,” Jason told Elizabeth, shaking his head slightly. It was just hair, he told himself sternly. He took her elbow and walked her over to the horse. “Let me know when you tire. You’ll not be used to the pace we set—”

“I will, I don’t want to slow you down by not being honest about that,” Elizabeth promised. She looked around, then sighed. “Are we leaving now?”

“We are,” Jason told her. “I’m sorry. I sent word to your family, but—”

Her eyes flew to his, startled. “You did?” she asked, breathlessly. “But you don’t like them—”

Behind her, Johnny whacked Francis in the shoulder, and gestured at Jason with a smirk. Jason narrowed his eyes at the two of them. Idiots.

“It’s all right,” she said. She took a deep breath, and forced a smile. “Thank you. I’ll write them when we get…” Elizabeth chewed her bottom lip. “When we get where we’re going,” she finished, nervously.

“Braegarie,” Jason muttered as he turned away from Elizabeth, irritated with himself and the world. He wished now he hadn’t turned around because maybe he could have tossed her on the horse and been away before the man hurrying towards them reached the inn.

But Elizabeth saw him before Jason could say anything and her eyes lit up. “Steven!” She waved a hand. “You came!”

Steven Webber strode towards them, his own face splitting into a grin. “Bits! I worried that I would miss you.” He took her hands, squeezed them. “I thought you were staying in Edinburgh a few more days. Albany said you might be removing to the palace today—” He cast a suspicious look at Jason who just bared his teeth. This man who had let their father mark his wife’s face would not judge Jason for dragging his sister away from the luxury of court.

“Jason has responsibilities at home,” Elizabeth said, “and I—I would like to see Braegarie,” she finished. “It will be my home, too—”

“Of course.” Steven frowned again at Jason. “I need to speak to my sister alone for a moment.”

“Steven—”

“Five minutes,” Jason snapped. “I want to be gone so we can reach Linlithgow by nightfall.”

Steven bristled, but took his sister’s hand and walked out of earshot with her, turning away so that Jason couldn’t see his face, only his wife’s.

“It’s very nice that you made sure she could say goodbye to her brother,” Francis said soberly. “Almost as nice as the clothes you sent me out to buy.”

“Or the tent and horse I bought,” Johnny added. “Why, it’s almost sweet—”

Jason was only half-listening to them—was focusing on Elizabeth’s face as he saw the happiness and sparkle in her eyes slowly fade as Steven continued to speak to her. Whatever he was saying — it was making her sad. She dipped her head, looking at the stone streets. Her brother tipped her head up, putting a finger under her chin. Elizabeth looked away, and Jason could see the shine of a tear on her cheek.

Jason clenched his fists at his side, but Johnny grabbed Jason’s elbow before he could stride forward. “I wonder,” Johnny murmured, “if Webber has spoken to the regent — if perhaps he’s giving Elizabeth orders.”

“Orders—” Jason exhaled slowly. Steven had mentioned speaking to Albany after the wedding, and the regent had hoped to keep Jason and Elizabeth in the palace for several days and weeks. He’d not wanted to be dragged in court politics, but his marriage might have landed him right in the middle of it.

“You think Albany is sending a spy into our clan?” Francis asked. “For what purpose?”

“To ensure Jason’s loyalty. Or to be ready if he’s not. Regents don’t stay in power long,” Johnny said with a shrug. “And I can’t think of a better spy than a slip of a woman that screams victim.”

Jason growled, fisted a hand in Johnny’s white knit shirt, and dragged him close. “Whatever you think of her, you keep it to yourself—”

“You see?” Johnny said with a smirk. “You’ve known her two days, and you’re ready to battle one of your loyal men for speaking against her—”

Jason released Johnny with nearly a shove. “She’s not a spy. Not a willing one,” he amended as he turned his attention back to his wife and her brother. No, he could not bring himself to see Elizabeth as that kind of woman — but neither could he deny that whatever her brother had said to Elizabeth had upset her and it would be foolish to deny that Johnny could be right.

Finally, Steven and Elizabeth returned to the trio and the group of horses clustered around the inn’s entrance. “Write often, Bits,” he told her with a swift hug. “And if you need me—”

“She won’t,” Jason said, flatly, taking Elizabeth by the elbow and drawing her away from him. “We don’t beat our women, Webber, which is more than I can saw for you Lowlanders.”

Steven winced, then nodded. “My sister is precious to me,” he told Jason, his face serious and sober. “And I hope that she will be precious to you—”

“Steven,” Elizabeth hissed.

“I love you,” Steven told her. He kissed her forehead. “Remember what I said.”

“I—” Her expression faltered again, and Jason tensed. “I will.”

Finally, Steven Webber walked away, and Jason held out a hand to help his wife mount the horse. “What did your brother say to you?”

“He said to remember my mother,” Elizabeth said softly. “And to never forget what she taught me.”

Jason frowned. It seemed strange that such a remark could inspire the change he’d seen in her, but it wasn’t impossible, so he let it go and settled her on the horse and in the sidesaddle.

A few moments later, Johnny led the way to the road that would take them out of Edinburgh and home, as Jason kept a careful on his wife and wondered what secrets she kept from him.

September 28, 2020

This entry is part 5 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Not Knowing When

Written in 60 minutes. No time for spell check or typo check.


Cosmpolitan Suite: Sitting Room

“….this, uh, marriage thing…which was impetuous and funny about an hour ago now looks like a cover-up…”

Brenda Barrett prided herself on being observant. She didn’t care that most people thought she was self-absorbed to the point of narcissism because she knew the truth. She understood people.

And right know, she understood that Sonny Corinthos was a jackass who couldn’t read a room. The minute he’d called Jason and Elizabeth’s marriage impetuous and funny, Elizabeth Webber’s face drained of color, all life left her colors, and she stared down at her lap.

Five minutes earlier, this same woman had been sparkling with irritation, with amusement, even happiness—and now all of that emotion had blinked out of existence.

Because Sonny had called her marriage impetuous and funny—and Jason hadn’t said a word in response.

Men.

“But it’s not,” Brenda said, hoping to bring the conversation and give Jason an opportunity to speak up. But her ex-fiance (she was going to love calling him that for the rest of her life though she’d probably wait until Elizabeth thought it was funny because Brenda’s almost marriage was impetuous and funny—why couldn’t Sonny see there was a damn difference—idiot) was just frowning at Sonny.

“I don’t understand,” Jason said slowly. “What happened last night?” He looked at Elizabeth, his light brows drawn together in confusion. “How did—why were you on the pier?”

“I didn’t want to go home after work,” Elizabeth muttered, staring at hands like they had the answers to all of life’s questions. And Brenda wondered if Elizabeth’s reluctance to go home had anything to do with the beach blonde bimbo Barbie she’d threatened with the box cutter—

“But the pier—why the hell did Marco let you—”

Sonny frowned. “Marco wasn’t with her last night. He’s been guarding Courtney—”

“No, he isn’t,” Jason argued. “He’s been Elizabeth’s guard since the shooting at the hospital—” He looked at Elizabeth. “Where—”

“I—” Elizabeth finally looked up with a squint of her eyes, a little impatient. “Jason, I haven’t had a guard since I left the penthouse.”

Left the penthouse? Brenda filed that away for later. So much for no one being back in Port Charles who would mind if he got married.

“But—”

“I—” Sonny cleared his throat. “When you told me on the plane,” he said to Elizabeth a bit painfully, “that Marco had taken you to work while you were there, I didn’t—I didn’t make the connection—”

“What connection? I don’t—I don’t have a guard,” Elizabeth said. She looked back and forth between Jason and Sonny, and Brenda was surprised to see fury flash in Jason’s blue eyes—fury directed at Sonny.

She leaned back, crossed her legs, and smirked. “Oh, I see. Jason thought you had a guard this entire time, and it looks like Sonny reassigned him.” Brenda just lifted her brows when both men turned to scowl at her. “Or did I get it wrong?”

“When did you reassign Marco?” Jason bit out, shoving himself to his feet. “Didn’t he tell you—”

“He told me that—” Sonny winced, rubbing his temple. “He told he was working on something, but I—I told him I’d take care of it—I never—I forgot—”

“Damn it, Sonny—”

“Wait—” Elizabeth looked at Jason, her eyes wide. “You thought I had a guard this whole time?”

“Of course I did! You were living with me, Elizabeth! You think Alcazar didn’t know that? I didn’t—” Some of the anger drained out of him and he sat back down, his head in his hands. “I didn’t ask Marco. He’s not there to spy on you, so I figured—no report was good news. That you were okay.”

Brenda saw Elizabeth’s hand tremble as she lifted it, nearly reaching out to Jason, but it fell into her lap at the last minute. Oh, man, they were both idiots. “I think we’re getting off topic,” she murmured. “Elizabeth didn’t have a guard. Jason can smack Sonny around about it later—”

“Right,” Elizabeth said slowly, focusing on Brenda, then flicking a quick, confused glance at Jason who wasn’t looking at her. “Um, I was just gonna walk on Bannister’s Wharf, but I wasn’t paying attention—”

Jason muttered something under his breath Brenda couldn’t make out, but whatever it was had Elizabeth narrowing her eyes into slits. “I’d just been told something that made me feel very violent,” she said, her jaw clenched.

The boxcutter. Brenda nodded. “Fair enough. We’ve all been there.”

“I realized where I was, but before I could get out of there, I heard voices. I recognized Alcazar’s,” Elizabeth said, “because of that time I’d heard him at Kelly’s with Roy. He was angry with someone—I didn’t see either of them. I ducked behimd some boxes. Then—” Elizabeth rubbed her wrist, restless. “I heard a gunshot. Something dropped to the docks. I tried to get out of there without being heard, but I tripped—” She paused. “Alcazar thought it was you,” she murmured to Jason who looked at her. “And he shot at me. That’s why there’s footage of me running away from the pier.”

“Could it have been Zander you overheard with Alcazar?” Sonny asked.

“I—” Elizabeth bit her bottom lip. “Maybe. I didn’t hear the other guy. He wasn’t as loud—Alcazar was really angry—the guy had lost sight of his property—” Her face paled as she focused on Brenda. “And he said she’s gone. I think—”

“This would have been around the time you and Jason started this whole jaunt to Vegas,” Sonny said dryly. “So whoever Alcazar had watching you, Jason was able to lose him long enough for you to get to the airport.”

“But—if that was Zander—” Elizabeth sighed. “That means he got his memory back and went back to work for Alcazar. I just saw him two days ago,” she muttered. “He didn’t say anything about his memory being back—”

“Of course not. You’re more useful to him in the dark,” Sonny said. Elizabeth scowled at him as Jason winced.

“Yeah, that’s how you like your women,” Elizabeth retorted. “Out of the loop, walking around like idiots.”

“Elizabeth—” Jason began.

“It doesn’t matter. Look, can’t I just tell the PCPD what I saw?” Elizabeth asked.

“No, because you’re not credible,” Sonny said. “The PCPD knows you’d lie for Jason. You’ve done it before.”

“Funny you remember that now,” Elizabeth said, acid dripping from her words. Well, at least that cleared something up — Elizabeth had been left out of the whole Sonny not being dead secret, too, and she was still pissed about it.

“Sonny, can you just shut up?” Jason demanded. “You’re not helping—”

“What—”

“So if I can’t tell the PCPD what I saw,” Elizabeth said, cutting off Sonny’s bewildered reply, “what do I do?”

“Honestly?” Sonny shrugged, leaned back, and studied the two of them. “The best option for all of us is to pretend this Vegas trip never happened. Or at least that you never came here,” he told Elizabeth.

Elizabeth blinked at him. “Wait, what?”

“Sonny—”

“We go back to Port Charles,” Sonny said. “Liz goes back to her life, Jason goes back to his. Their breakup was well-known. People commented on it—”

“Oh, you are a lot dumber than you used to be,” Brenda breathed as Elizabeth closed her eyes and Jason winced.

“We can prove Jason was in Vegas,” Sonny continued ignoring her. “We can prove he was at the airport, and I’m betting—based on when you got to the Towers—that the plane had just taken off when the shots were fired.”

Sonny looked at Brenda. “You can alibi him, and I can give a statement about the flight taking off because I was tracking it, trying to charter another plane. I stalled you at the airport—”

“I knew something was off,” Brenda said.

“But Elizabeth, you just went home. And if Jason’s not a suspect, they’re not going to care about you,” he told her. “You guys lay low, just keep acting like you’ve been acting for the last few weeks, and this won’t be an issue.”

Except Elizabeth had come to Vegas, and Jason had practically marched her to the altar. Brenda watched Jason and Elizabeth absorb Sonny’s plan. “You mean,” she said, deciding to help them when Jason kept his mouth closed, “pretend they never got married.”

Or spent the morning locked in hotel’s master bedroom.

“Yes,” Sonny said. “I think it’s the best way to get Jason clear of this as quickly as possible. Then we can get back to focusing on Alcazar.”

Jason opened his mouth, looked at Elizabeth who was staring at her hands, then sighed. “It keeps you out of it, too,” he said softly.

Brenda closed her eyes. Absolute idiot.

“Okay.” Elizabeth’s lips trembled slightly, but she pressed them together, then nodded. “Okay, Sonny. You should—you should probably make sure I get separate transportation home from the airport or something. I can’t be dropped off in the limo or anything.”

“Right, I’ll call Benny—” Sonny got to his feet. “We’ll work out everything else—” He stopped when Elizabeth shoved away from the table and disappeared into the master bedroom. “On the plane,” he finished.

Jason exhaled slowly, looked at Sonny. “She came to you at the Towers after she was shot at—”

“She came to you,” Brenda corrected Jason quietly. She turned back to her other ex-fiance. “Didn’t she, Sonny? She was nearly killed, and came looking for Jason. And you patted her head, told her Jason was on the brink of death, loaded her on the plane because, obviously, you knew he’d never go through with marrying me if she was anywhere near it.”

Sonny slid his hands into his pockets. “You’re making it sound more calculated than it was—”

“No, I think I’ve got it right. And now, because you don’t want Jason to be distracted by someone else when he should be dealing with Luis, you want her to pretend that the last twelve hours didn’t happen. Which, in case you forgot, includes her getting married to Jason.”

“I—” Sonny looked at Jason. “You see it the way I do. She’s safer this way—”

“As safe as she was without the guard I assigned her,” Jason bit out. He got to his feet. “The only reason I’m doing this is because I don’t want the PCPD harassing her—”

“That isn’t your decision,” Brenda said bluntly. He turned his attention to her, frowning. “I don’t know the history, Jase, but Sonny seems to think Elizabeth has had run ins with the cops about you before. And she’s clearly still standing. I swear—” She took a deep breath. “I swear to God, if you leave her standing in the rain, I will never, ever forgive you.”

And with that, Brenda stalked into the other bedroom, slamming the door.

Sonny scowled after her. “What the hell crawled up her ass—” He turned when he heard another door, catching Jason just as he followed Elizabeth.

“How the hell did I end up as the bad guy?” Sonny muttered.

Master Bedroom

Jason closed the door behind him, Brenda’s words echoing in his head.

If you leave her standing in the rain… The way Sonny had left her, walking away over and over again, leaving Brenda to doubt how he felt about her—leaving her to wonder what she’d done wrong—

Jason was a literal man, but even he understood the metaphor Brenda had been trying to make.

Elizabeth was sitting on the bed, staring down at her hands. At her fingers. She was twisting a small silver ring she wore on her right hand, and he found himself wondering if they should have stopped somewhere so he could buy her a wedding ring.

It’d be something small, that wouldn’t get in the way when she painted or sketched—

“Are we leaving for the airport?” Elizabeth said, her voice empty. He knew that tone—he’d heard it before. When she’d talked about modeling and the dreams Lucky had wanted for them —

“I dont know,” Jason said. He glanced past her, at the bed and the sheets that were still all over the place. They’d spent hours in that bed earlier—he’d learned every inch of her body and he finally learned how she tasted when she laughed—

She didn’t even look like the same woman.

“I agreed to Sonny’s plan because I don’t want you in the middle of this,” Jason began. “But—”

“Same old story.” Elizabeth got to her feet and walked over to the window, yanking back the blackout curtain, sunlight streaming into the room. Jason blinked, stepped out of a direct beam. “Fine. Whatever.”

“Elizabeth—”

“When are we leaving?” Elizabeth interrupted. She folded her arms, lifting one of them so that her hand could rub her lips. “I’m tired, and I want to sleep on the way home.”

“But it’s not my decision to make,” Jason finished. “If we go back and tell everyone that we got married, the PCPD won’t care that I have an alibi. They’ll still think we got married because of what happened to Zander. Alcazar will come after you harder because he’ll know you came to us.”

“And Carly will make my life a living hell, my grandmother will be disappointed like she always is, and everyone will look at me, wondering what I was thinking,” Elizabeth said. “What’s your point?”

“My point is that since you’re the one that has to deal with all of that,” Jason said, “then you should be the one to decide if it’s what you want.”

Elizabeth frowned at him, then took a few steps forward, finally pulling herself out of the sunlight that had blocked her face from his view. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that it’s going to be harder for you this way, but if you don’t want to go with Sonny’s plan, we won’t.”

“If I want?” Elizabeth snorted. “You’ve never cared what I wanted—”

“That’s not true—”

“No, you’re right. You don’t care about it when it looks like I want you,” she said. “Because every single time I’ve given you the signal I want more, you run as fast as you can in the other direction.” She held up a finger. “And yeah, I’ve done it, too. But this is different. Because when I ran, it was because I was scared of getting hurt. When you run, it’s because you pretend the danger is too much for me.”

“I pretend—” Jason sighed, then dipped his head. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I know.”

“And I’m really tired, Jason. I can live with you pushing me away because I’ve hurt. I wouldn’t blame you. God knows, I’ve dragged you through the mud and run over you a few times—” Her voice faltered. “I deserve to be pushed away for that—”

“Hey—” He strode forward, took her hands in his, drawing them away from her waist. “No—”

“But when you tell me it’s too dangerous when Sonny gets to have a wife and you hang around with Carly and Michael and you nearly marry another woman, and kiss Courtney—” A tear spilled down her cheek. “It’s starts to feel like it’s me you don’t want—”

“I didn’t kiss Courtney—” He paused. “Is that what she told you?” When Elizabeth just wrinkled her nose, looked away. “Is that why you threatened her with a boxcutter?”

“No,” Elizabeth muttered. “I did that because she wouldn’t stop talking. I just wanted her to leave and to stop talking about how I’d been wrong, and how you’d fallen in love with her while you were guarding her—I just wanted her to shut up and go away—”

“She was wrong—she kissed me,” Jason told Elizabeth. “Half the reason I agreed to Brenda’s insane plan was to get Courtney stop—” He shook his head. “Never mind. That’s not—I don’t want you to get hurt. But if you’re willing to take that risk, then—”

“I’ve always been willing,” Elizabeth reminded him. “You’re the one that keeps changing his mind.”

“Then I’ll tell Sonny we need a new plan.” Jason grasped her chin in his fingers, lifting her eyes to meet his. “And you’ll come home with me. If that’s where you want to be.”

“Yes.” With her free hand, Elizabeth fisted her hand in his shirt. “Is that where you want me?”

“It’s where I always wanted you.” Jason cut off anything else she had to say with a kiss, and if Sonny hadn’t banged on the door a minute later, telling them the plane would be ready in fifteen minutes, they might have gone back to bed.

September 26, 2020

This entry is part 2 of 41 in the Flash Fiction: Signs of Life

Written in 60 minutes.


Monday, December 27, 1999

Vista Point

Jason had planned to put more distance between himself and Elizabeth after he’d left the studio the day before. In fact, he’d planned to go back to way it had been before she’d found him that morning in the snow — two people who occasionally ran into each other and were friendly.

He wasn’t sure what him think that was a possibility after the last four weeks, but he knew once he’d listened to his sister’s angry voice mail that day at the warehouse, there was no point in pretending.

The whole world knew Elizabeth Webber was important to him, even if they had no idea what they were talking about.

He pulled over at the Vista Point observation deck, and Elizabeth hopped off the bike, pulling the helmet over her head, her hair cascading down over the leather jacket he’d given her for Christmas.

“That was just what I needed,” Elizabeth told him with bright eyes and a wide smile. He returned the smile, and stowed the helmet on the back of the bike. “Where are we?”

“You’ve never been up here?” Jason asked as he led her from the parking lot over to the observation deck where benches had been installed.

“No—” Elizabeth leaned over the guard rail, looking over the cliffs encircling Lake Ontario. “I bet there’s a good view of Spoon Island when the sky is clear,” she said.

“Probably. I’ve never been up here during the day.” He leaned against the railing, watched for a minute. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose, looking at him. “No.” She huffed. “I was going to tell Emily the truth,” she muttered. “But she showed up at the end of my shift after I’d already dealt with customers smirking at me, Carly, and my grandmother. And—” Elizabeth eyed him. “Obviously, I can’t tell my grandmother why she found you at the studio.”

Jason accepted that with a nod. Audrey Hardy would not appreciate knowing that her granddaughter had been taking care of a gunshot victim and hiding him from the police. “No, that would not be a good idea.” He winced. “Carly?”

“I can take Carly,” Elizabeth assured him. “In fact, if my grandmother hadn’t shown up—” She sighed. “Never mind. I’ll talk to Emily tomorrow. She was just annoying me. Like I’d committed some horrible crime by not telling her we knew each other.”

Jason furrowed his brow. “She knows that. You asked for me help when she was trying to sneak off to Puerto Rico.”

“She has a nasty habit of always taking Nikolas’s side,” Elizabeth admitted. “It’s always been that way. She assumed what he said at the party was true, and didn’t even stop to think there might be anything else going on.” She lifted herself up to sit on the railing. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to help you, and literally everyone in my life made it worse.”

“I don’t care about any of that,” Jason told her. “I’m sorry it made trouble for you—”

“Only with the people who don’t think I can make my own decisions.” Elizabeth hesitated. “I’ll talk to Emily,” she repeated, “but I’m not talking to Nikolas right now after what he pulled, and he’d be harder to explain things to. He can’t be trusted with the truth.” She sighed, looked away. “He couldn’t even be trusted with a lie.”

“I’m sorry,” Jason repeated.

“It’ll be something people talk about for a minute, and then it’ll go away,” Elizabeth assured him. “Someone will do something insane at New Year’s, and it’ll be old news.” She met his eyes, searched them for a long moment. “Unless you think there’s another way to handle it.”

Jason hesitated. Until the call from Emily, Jason’s plan had been to avoid Elizabeth entirely. If they weren’t seen together, no one would take the fight at the party seriously — but — “You said customers were talking about it?”

“Yeah, I had a packed section,” Elizabeth said, rolling her eyes. “And would you believe half of them didn’t even bother to tip? Cheap bitches,” she muttered. She stared at her hands. “Just a few snickers. I over heard a couple of people saying some things—”

When she stopped talking, Jason’s stomach tightened and he stepped closer. “Saying what?” he demanded in a low voice. Damn it, Bobbie was right — he should have left long ago. He could have managed on his own after the first week. “Elizabeth—”

“Nothing worth repeating,” Elizabeth said. “Don’t worry about it. Really—”

“Who was it?” he pressed. “Was it college kids or—”

“Some workers from the docks,” Elizabeth admitted. She hopped off the railing and walked a few steps in the opposite direction. “Um, a few of them I think I recognized from the warehouse. I got your meds from Sonny there once. And then a few of the others—I think—” She turned to look at him finally. “There was a table of guys I know work for Moreno.”

Jason hissed, looking away. “Moreno,” he muttered. He hadn’t been seen since the shootout, and Jason thought he was probably dead. He couldn’t be sure, but— “What did they say?”

His tone had shifted, become harder and flatter and she flinched. He dragged a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, I—”

“One of the guys told me when I got bored with you, I should look him up—” Elizabeth slid her hands in her pockets. “And I—” Her cheeks flushed, and she stared at the ground. “That’s really all that table said.”

That table. “What about Sonny’s guys?” Jason bit out. How were they treating a woman that was clearly linked to him?

“Jason, it’s really not a big deal—”

“Elizabeth.”

She looked up and when she met his eyes this time, he could see the confusion in her expression. “Jason, it’s not like we’re dating. It doesn’t matter what they say—”

“They don’t know that,” Jason retorted. “So it matters. What did they say?”

“Just that I didn’t seem like your type,” Elizabeth said finally. “Apparently, they think you got the good girl out of your system when you broke up with Robin, and I didn’t even have her ass to make up for my lack of—Can we drop it now?” she demanded. “Or do you also want to talk about the women who came in and decided I wasn’t built enough to—” She clenched her jaw, turned around, and started towards the parking lot.

Jason winced, then went after her, his longer legs overtaking hers just as she reached the parking lot and the bike. “Elizabeth—”

“I told you,” Elizabeth said, tossing her hair back. “I didn’t want to talk about it. So can you just take me home?”

Jason exhaled slowly, then handed her the helmet. “I’m sorry,” he said awkwardly. “They shouldn’t be talking about you that way—”

“They’re guys,” she said, pulling the helmet, and fastening the strap. “That’s what they do—”

“No, I mean—” He cleared his throat, unsure what to do with any of this. He could see that the way her customers had talked about her had hurt her feelings—and worse—he could see in the flush of her cheeks and the look in her eyes that she agreed with what they said.

And he didn’t know if either of them would be better off if Jason liked the way her body just the way it was, so he remained silent and started the bike. He waited for her to climb behind him, then took her home.

He’d been insane to think that just by leaving the studio he could put their friendship back the way it had been.

Nothing was going to be the way it had been before the night he’d been shot and the morning she’d dragged him back to the world of the living.

Tuesday, December 28, 1999

Elm Street Pier

Elizabeth’s second day back at work after the party didn’t go much better than her first day, though she noted that no one from the Corinthos-Morgan coffee warehouse sat in her section and the few guys that did come into the diner studiously avoided looking at her.

She wasn’t really sure how to take that—wondering how Jason had made that happen and what’d he had to say to them. He’d been so angry at the idea that people were talking about her, but Elizabeth didn’t know what good it did either of them for her to spell out the reasons in great detail why no one understood why he’d look twice at her.

And it was worse because Elizabeth knew that he wouldn’t, so she really didn’t need to have those reasons in her head or have to say them out loud to Jason.

But thankfully, Emily and her grandmother stayed away—Elizabeth wasn’t looking forward to setting Emily straight since she was still annoyed, and she didn’t feel like going through another round of her grandmother’s disapproval. The only problems Elizabeth had were Moreno’s guys returning to ogle her and more women who came to smirk at the silly girl with no boobs trying to get their hooks into an older man who couldn’t possibly be satisfied—

And she still got screwed on tips.

She left work and decided to have an early night at the studio, curled up on her sofa with the secondhand television that she’d give herself for Christmas—with her door locked and the ringer on her phone turned off.

But a quiet night at home wasn’t going to happen. At least not before Elizabeth ran one more gauntlet.

Waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs on the pier were Detectives Marcus Taggert and Andy Capelli. She hissed, drew up in front of them, and wrinkled her nose. She should have taken the long way round to the studio.

“Are you going to move,” Elizabeth began, “or are you standing there for a reason?”

“We have a couple of questions,” Taggert began with a smooth smile that she recognized, “if you have a minute.”

“What if I said I didn’t?” Elizabeth said. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket, irritated with herself for leaving her gloves behind at Kelly’s in her haste to leave the diner.

“Then we’d arrange to talk at the station with an attorney,” Capelli said. “What’s it gonna be?”

So he was going to be the bad cop. Fantastic. Elizabeth pursed her lips. “What’s the question?”

“November 30,” Taggert said, meeting her eyes. “You happen to see Jason Morgan that night?”

November 30. The night she’d received that terrible art grade and danced with Jason at Kelly’s.

The night Jason had been shot. They were asking her if she could alibi Jason on a night she knew he’d been out committing crimes.

Elizabeth lifted her chin. “Yes,” she said simply. When she said nothing else, Taggert’s smile turned into a scowl.

“Is that all you want to say?” he demanded. “Just yes?”

“I see we’re abandoning good cop already. You asked me a question, Detective. I answered it—”

“I see Morgan’s trained you well,” Taggert snapped as Elizabeth attempted to walk past them. “Fine. Where did you see him? What time did you see him? And for how long did you see him?”

Elizabeth stared at him for a long time. “That’s three questions. You said you had a couple. I’ve answered one of them. You get one more. I’ll be nice. I’ll even let you choose.”

“Fine,” Capelli interrupted as Taggert opened his mouth. “How long did you spend screwing Morgan before he went off to kill Anthony Moreno?”

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

Jason braced himself as Johnny O’Brien pushed the door open and he went into the penthouse for the first time since the night he’d been shot.

Since the night Carly had waltz down the stairs in nothing more than Sonny’s shirt. The shirt Sonny had been wearing before Jason had taken the meeting that nearly killed him.

He stayed near the doorway, watching Sonny carefully as his boss poured himself a tumbler of bourbon. “You wanted me to come by?” he said evenly.

“Yeah.” Sonny sipped the liquor. “We got a call from our guy in the PCPD. Anthony Moreno’s body was pulled from the harbor over Christmas. Shot twice. Once in the chest, and once in the head.”

Jason nodded, taking in the information. “I thought Sorel would do a better job at making him disappear,” he said, “but that tracks. I got off a shot as I left—that’s probably the chest wound. No way I managed a head shot.” Not in that condition. “Sorel probably finished the job.”

“That’s what I figure.”

“What’s the problem?” Jason said. “You said there was—”

“Apparently, Nikolas Cassadine tried to file assault charges,” Sonny continued, “for the Christmas party. He was laughed out of the station, but not before Taggert got the content of the fight.”

Jason stared at Sonny for a long moment, then drew his brow together. “I don’t—What—”

“Nikolas told the entire party—essentially the entire town that you and Elizabeth were sleeping together,” Sonny reminded him. “And Nikolas, in the report at the PCPD, stated that knew that was true because he’d found you at her studio in December.”

Jason closed his eyes. “Which means Taggert knows.”

“Which means Taggert knows,” Sonny repeated. “You disappeared for most of December, around the time Moreno did. And now Taggert knows exactly where you were for some of that time.”

Jason growled, pulled out his cell phone as he yanked open the door, already dialing Alexis Davis’s number. “Jason—” Sonny said, following him into the hallway. “Listen—”

“He’s going to ask Elizabeth for my alibi,” Jason cut in. “And—” God, Elizabeth would probably do it. She’d be insane enough to give him an alibi. It would go into an official report that she’d been with him that night.

“It’s not the worst idea,” Sonny began, but Jason whirled around at the elevator. “She’s solid as a rock—”

“She doesn’t need to be in the middle of this.” He muttered a swear when he only got Alexis’s voice mail. Maybe Justus would help—

“She’s already there—”

“Moreno’s guys are going to Kelly’s,” Jason told him Sonny bluntly. “Making comments. They already know who she is. And you think it’s a good idea for her to alibi me for an entire night? Damn it—”

He jabbed the elevator button. “I need to get to her. To tell her not to talk to the PCPD without a lawyer—”

“Jason—”

But Jason was done talking to him, and the doors closed on Sonny’s face.

Elm Street Pier

Elizabeth could see from Taggert’s murderous expression that Capelli’s question had not been the plan. He glared at his partner. “That’s not what I wanted to ask—”

“That’s too bad,” Elizabeth said coolly. “You’re interested in my sex life, Detective Capelli?”

“Damn it,” Taggert muttered. He dragged his hands over his face. “Elizabeth—”

“I mean, that’s the question,” Elizabeth said, widening her eyes. “You wanted to know how long Jason and I were having sex before he left that night? What—like how many times or—”

“That’s not—” Capelli threw his hands up. “You’re deliberately misunderstanding me—”

“No,” Elizabeth said slowly, “I am merely clarifying your question. You asked me how long I spent screwing Jason before he left to go kill someone. The second part of that isn’t a question. It was a statement. So it sounds like you’re interested in my sex life. You’ll have to take a number, Detective.”

She turned and walked in the opposite direction. She’d take the long way around Bannister’s Wharf.

“Elizabeth—damn it!” Taggert rushed after her, grabbed her arm. “Wait a second. Just—”

“Don’t put your hands on me—” She backed up a few steps, and the detective grimaced. “You don’t get to be pissy with me because your partner didn’t follow the script.”

“I’m sorry—”

“You should be. Because I have no intention of answering any question from either of you or anyone else at the PCPD about the details of my personal life. Not without a lawyer or a judge telling me I have to. Am I under arrest?”

Taggert pressed his lips together. “No.”

“Then get out of my way and let me go home.”

September 25, 2020

This entry is part 4 of 27 in the Flash Fiction: A King's Command

Written in 50 minutes. Spellchecked, but not reread for typos.


Jason was already experiencing misgivings about his dealings with his new wife as he went downstairs to the public rooms and ordered a draught of ale, awaiting the return of Johnny and Francis with her belongings.

The sooner he could pack up his unexpected bride and return home to Braegarie where he was in control and no one could command him to do anything he did not wish to do.

When his men did finally return, Jason frowned at them, glancing out the window at the setting sun. “Did you have to go to Stirling for her things?”

“No,” Francis said shortly. He sat on the bench across from Jason and set a dingy, gray sack on the table. “This was right where milady said it would be.”

Jason stared at the sack which might have stored several pounds of grain at home, then raised his eyes to the man who had brought it. “That’s it?”

“There is something very strange afoot,” Johnny declared as he handed Francis an ale and sat next to him. “I thought your wife must have brought the wrong bag from her lodgings or perhaps she didn’t want to make a fuss after you dragged her down the Mile—”

Jason scowled. “I did not—”

“So we went to find out for sure,” Francis said. “Her father was unhappy to see us, but her brother assured us that—” He nodded at the sack. “That is the sum total of what the baron allowed his youngest daughter to pack for her presentation at the royal court.”

Jason narrowed his eyes. “There could not be more than a few articles of clothing,” he muttered. He knew the weight and shape of women’s garments — “The sister was well dressed?”

“At the wedding, yes. Her brother confirmed that Sarah,” Johnny said, biting out the name, “brought several trunks.”

“I would say it makes sense to outfit the elder daughter more than the younger,” Francis said slowly, “but the brother gives me pause. I think that the baron never intended to present the other girl. Her brother was not present when Elizabeth made her bow to the regent.”

Jason stared at the sack for another moment, before getting to his feet and picking up the sack. “I need to speak with my wife.” He tossed a few coins onto the table. “She’ll need warmer clothes for the journey north tomorrow. See to it. Get another mount.”

“Aye, we’ll see to it.”

——

Elizabeth sat on the edge of the bed, sliding her fingers over the velvet of her dress. It was such a nice color, and there was so much more materials. Perhaps the dress could be cut down and reshaped

She jumped when the door opened again. Her husband stood there, grasping her sack. Relief slid through her veins. “Oh, I was hoping they could find my garments—”

She was already reaching for the clothes, then blinked, pulling her hands back when Jason Morgan did not set the bag down.

“It seems to me,” he said slowly, as he closed the door, then walked across the room the table beneath the window. He set the sack down, and pulled out a chair. “That there are many things I could ask you that have nothing to do with your service to the regent.”

Elizabeth bit her lip, rose to her feet. “Like what?” she asked cautiously. She sat in the other empty chair. “Will you—” She tried to look into his eyes, but her husband’s expression was still closed to her. “Will you keep my belongings if I do not answers?”

“Belongings,” Jason repeated. He gestured at the sack. “There cannot be more than two dresses.”

There were three, but she bristled, unsure of what specific insult he was inflicting on her. Elizabeth lifted her chin. “There are three. You did not answer my question.”

Jason pushed the sack towards her. “Your belongings are your own,” he said gruffly. “You tell me you cannot tell me why the regent has decided to favor you with a marriage.”

“Nay, but—” Elizabeth set the sack in her lap, focused on Jason’s light blue eyes. “But if you are willing to trust me—”

“Trust is earned, Elizabeth. Not given freely.”

“How may I earn your trust, then?”

“Your father did not intend to present you to the regent, did he?”

Elizabeth stiffened, her shoulders squared back, prepared to defend her father’s honor, but then— “No, he did not.”

“Why?”

“I cannot say—” When Jason scowled, she hurried to add, “I mean that I do not know. The call to court was specific that my father was to bring all three of his children, but he had hoped to make excuses. To say that I had fallen ill. He brought me to Edinburgh, but he only intended to bring Sarah and Steven when the time came.”

She looked away, but her eyes were dry. “But the regent specifically sent for me. For my father to bring me. Only me.” Elizabeth paused, then turned her gaze back to Jason. “How did you know that?”

“My men went to your family’s lodgings to be sure you hadn’t left anything behind. It was clear that your sister came with trunks of clothing meant for court.”

They both looked down at the sack in her lip. Elizabeth’s lip trembled slightly, so she bit down on it.

“My sister is the elder. Unmarried—”

“No father overlooks a chance to rid himself of unmarried daughters,” Jason said, flatly. “Not even Lowlanders.”

Rid himself— Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. “And is that how you would approach the marriage of your daughters?” she demanded. “As baggage to be tossed aside?”

Jason tipped his head slightly to the side, and now there was a hint of a smile at the corners of his lips. Or perhaps she had mistaken a twitch of his muscles. “No. But I know enough men who see daughters as burdens. Your father strikes me as one of their number.”

She could not find fault with that reasoning, so Elizabeth just looked at her hands.

“Was it this way at home?”

Elizabeth drew her brows together, met his eyes with a slight shake of her head. “My Lord—”

“Jason,” he corrected, his voice quiet. “I am your husband.”

“You did not seem eager to claim that title earlier,” she muttered, tightening her fingers around the cord tying her sack closed.

“I was…” He looked away, his profile falling into a slash of fading sunlight. Surely she was mistaking the flush in his cheeks for something else. He leaned forward, then lit the lantern between, giving the room a soft glow. “I apologize.”

Apologize. She’d never known anyone to apologize to her and was not sure she liked knowing the reason he felt remorse.

“If you think to feel pity for me,” Elizabeth said slowly, “because my sister is richly clothed and my father struck me yesterday, then I must ask you to keep it. I will not accept your apology under such circumstances.”

“You will not—” Jason repeated, his eyes widening. “You will not accept—? Do you know how many apologies I have given in my life?”

Elizabeth winced. She ought to close her mouth and have done with it. This was how she ended up in trouble so often. If she could just control yourself? “I beg your pardon,” she muttered. “The day has been long.”

“No, I find myself curious as to why my apology is lacking.” He raised his brows. “Go on.”

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose, but then nodded. “All right then. Where shall I begin? Perhaps with the reminder that I made it quite plain to you and the regent—as well as my father—that I did not ask for this, yet you and my father have both treated me as if I am to blame. I did not want to come to Edinburgh. I did not want to meet the regent—I asked for none of this, my lord,”

“Jason—”

“I will call you by your Christian name when I please,” Elizabeth snapped. “I was not finished. You dragged me out of the chapel without my things, scarcely paid attention to me until I fell into the mud and then you put me in this room, demanded that I break my oath of secrecy to the regent—and now you think to apologize because you realize that my father does not love me.”

She set the sack on the table and rose to her feet. “If you wish to apologize for your ill manner and rude behavior because you realize you were unfair to me, I will accept your apology. But I will not accept an apology because you feel sorry for me.”

——

Jason stared at his wife for a long moment, unsure how to respond to that diatribe delivered in the biting tone with flashing eyes. Slowly, he stood, knowing that he loomed over her by nearly a foot.

Her chin lifted even higher to meet his eyes. He might have thought she was unafraid—that this was evidence of a spoiled Lowland miss that was accustomed to doing what she wanted and saying what she pleased—

But he could see her hands clenched at her sides were trembling slightly. There was a quiver to her lip—

His new wife was terrified, and likely expected that he would give her a matching bruise on the other side of her face.

“I apologize,” he repeated. “For my rudeness. You are right. Outside of whatever secret you are keeping to the regent, you have done me no wrong and did not deserve such treatment.”

Elizabeth’s chest heaved slightly as she let out a shaking breath. “I did not ask for any of this,” she repeated.

“I know.” Jason stepped closer to her. “Neither did I.” He reached out, took out of her fists in his, and gently straightened out her clenched fingers. “And let me make something clear, Elizabeth—” He waited for her eyes to meet his—startled to find they were damp with tears. Her breathing hitched. “A man who uses his strength against a woman is no man at all. I will never put my hands on you.” He paused. “In anger,” he added.”

She closed her eyes, the tension bleeding out of her shoulders. Something in her voice had changed—the wintry chill had melted. “I know.”

“You do? How—”

“I—” Elizabeth’s eyes flew open, then she blinked rapidly, her fingers tightening against into a fist. “I—you told my father that—”

“Oh.” Jason nodded. “Right. Well, I—” He cleared his throat, looked down at her hand, the softness of her skin sliding against his rougher fingers. Suddenly he was conscious of the closed door and the bed in the center of the room. “I’ve sent my men for warmer clothing. Can you ride?”

“A little,” Elizabeth said. She licked her lips, nervously, her eyes on their joined hands. “Not well.”

“We’ll go slowly,” he promised. “You’ll ride with me if the terrain is rough. I—” He stepped back, let her hand fall away. “I think it best if we—” He looked at the bed. “If we wait for any—”

“I—” Her cheeks flushed. Elizabeth laced her fingers together. “Of course. I—”

“I’ll leave you to check on supper,” he muttered, then left the room as quickly as he could. He’d intended to get answers from his wife—

And now all he had were more questions.

September 23, 2020

This entry is part 4 of 18 in the Flash Fiction: Shot in the Dark

Written in 56 minutes. Basic spell check, but not reread for typos.


Webber House: Cameron’s Bedroom

Spencer stared at the closed door with a suspicious look. “They’re very quiet down there,” he said.

Cameron wrinkled his nose and went over to the heating vent. He shoved his hockey uniform off and leaned closer. “Shut up, or I can’t hear anything,” he muttered.

“Whoa—I thought your mom found out—” Emma launched herself off the bed and joined Cameron the floor, laying on her stomach.

“What did I just say?” Cameron said to her with narrowed eyes. “Quiet.”

“Luke…Cassadines…”

“Oh, no,” Spencer muttered. “Not again—”

“Shhh—”

Cameron heard his mother’s voice, sharp, upset—but he couldn’t make out the words.

“Nikolas—” That was Grandma Laura this time. “Stavros—”

Spencer straightened, his face paling. “Stavros.”

“Who’s that?”

Cameron cleared his throat. “Uh, I think that’s not a good thing, is it?”

“That’s my grandfather. He died before I was born. A long time ago—”

“…worse than…”

“This is terribly inefficient,” Spencer muttered.

“I can’t just go to Greece!”

That was his mother again, and Cameron scowled. “Why would anyone go to Greece? What the heck—”

“Elizabeth—” Voices faded out again, and then Cameron heard Emma’s dad.

“Why the hell would they take Jake?”

Emma gasped loudly, then clamped her hands over her mouth as the voices in the living room stopped. Cameron shoved the hockey shirt back over the vent, grabbed Spencer and Emma and was dragging them over to his video games when the door opened.

Patrick was there, a brow arched. “Heating vents? Really. I’m disappointed. I would have thought with Spencer’s ingenuity, you would have rigged up a system to dangle one of you outside the window downstairs so you could hear everything.”

“Well, given some time and materials,” Spencer began.

Patrick crooked his finger. “Come with me.”

“We gotta get better that this,” Emma told Cameron as the three of them filed down the hall to Elizabeth’s bedroom.

In the back of the house, with a heating vent that was not at all connected to the living room. “I’m never gonna know anything again,” Cameron muttered. “And what’s this about Jake? Did someone hurt him? Is that why he died?”

Patrick hesitated, then handed them the remote. “Do me a favor, guys, stay young for a while longer. You got the rest of your lives for the crap Port Charles is going to throw at you.”

Then he closed the door.

Spencer glared after him, then turned to Cameron. “If someone hurt your brother, and it was from my family, then I’m honor bound to right this wrong.”

“What did he just say?” Emma said with a furrowed brow. “What’s happening?”

“If someone from your family killed my brother,” Cameron said, darkly, “then you’ll have to get in line.”

“You guys—” Emma began. Then sighed. “We should call Joss.”

The boys blinked at her. “You hate Joss,” Cameron said suspiciously. “A lot. You yelled at me for being nice to her.”

“That’s true,” Emma said. “But Joss has something we don’t. And if you guys think you’re gonna avenge something, it’ll probably be in Greece. I was listening in class the other day, and I think that’s on the other side of the world.”

“And Joss can help us with that?” Spencer said skeptically.

“Joss’s dad has a private plane. And her brother’s dad has a plane, too. Do you either of you dorks have a plane?”

“No,” Cameron said slowly. “But—”

“I’ll call Trina, too. She’s always got plans, and hers usually work.” Satisfied, she went over to the land line on Elizabeth’s night table. “Let’s get started.”

Living Room

 

Elizabeth dragged her hands through her hair. “I don’t understand how any of this is happening,” she said to Laura as Patrick came down the stairs. “How—”

Her little boy. Her precious angel—She looked at Jason whose jaw was clenched. The idea that their baby boy was alive and with the Cassadines—

“We can’t just go to Greece,” he said after a minute. “Not if this is about the Cassadines. We can’t jump into it. I remember when Helena was going after Emily—and I don’t—” He met Elizabeth’s eyes. “I can’t believe Nikolas would have helped anyone take Jake.”

“Luke didn’t explain why Lucky’s convinced of that, either,” Laura said. “The kids are in the back room now?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know what they heard,” Patrick told them. “You might want to do some damage control later.”

“This is—” Elizabeth picked Aiden up from the playpen where Laura had set him, started to pace. “Why would Helena take Jake? To get back at Luke?”

“Maybe, but why keep him? I mean, it came out pretty quick that Lucky wasn’t Jake’s father. That would have mattered,” Laura said. “Blood is everything to her.”

“She hates you,” Patrick reminded Elizabeth. “She lied about Aiden’s paternity to torture everyone, including Nikolas. Do you think she’d do this to go after you?”

“I—” Elizabeth hesitated. “I just—I don’t know. I don’t know anything. Jason—” She pressed her lips to Aiden’s curly hair, closing her eyes. Remembering another little boy that had been just a little bigger than him.

“How sure is Luke?” Jason asked. “If he’s screwing with us and Jake’s not—” He swallowed hard. “He saw him? He actually laid eyes on him—”

“He says he did. He says he and Lucky have both seen Jake, but they can’t get close enough.” Laura shook her head. “Luke might be a lot of things, but I don’t think he’d come to me with this if he didn’t know for sure. And I agree, we can’t just run off to Greece. Not right this second. But I’m worried about what else Luke told me—”

“Lucky threatening to kill Nikolas,” Elizabeth remembered. “If he thought Nikolas did this on purpose—but he has to know—I mean, God, everything else aside—Nikolas would never do to that to us.”

“But Luke saw Nikolas with Jake,” Patrick told her. “If that’s what he’s saying, Nikolas knows he’s alive and hasn’t said a word. In fact, he dumped his kid on Laura. Maybe so he could devote his time to whatever his grandmother and father are planning.”

“Stavros,” Elizabeth repeated. “How can this be possible? How many times do we have to kill him?”

“Now, you say he’s worse than Helena—” Patrick looked at Jason. “What do you know about him?”

“I don’t know,” Jason said, shaking his head. “I wasn’t living here the last time he was around. By the time I came home, it was over.”

“Stavros collects things,” Laura murmured. “He saw me when Luke and I went to the Cassadine Island to stop Mikkos from freezing the world. He decided he wanted me. So Helena kidnapped me. Forced me to live there. Marry him.” She sat on the sofa, weary. “For three long years.”

Because Laura was pale and shaky, Elizabeth took up the tale. “The official story was that Laura escaped, and Luke killed Stavros when Stavros came to get her back. That’s what we all believed. Until the garage fire. Helena kidnapped Lucky to brainwash him and turn him against the Spencers. Under her control, Lucky—” She rubbed her chest. God this was supposed to over.

Why didn’t Cassadines ever stay dead?

“Lucky threatened Lucas’s life if Tony Jones didn’t revive Stavros. Helena had all these labs and tunnels under the hospital. So Tony brought Stavros back to life.” Elizabeth took a deep breath. “Nikolas pretended to be loyal to Helena in order to get on her side, to get a head of things, but he had to kill me to prove his loyalty.”

“Of course he did,” Patrick muttered. “I don’t like where this is going—”

“You shouldn’t,” Jason said dryly. “She took a poison that made her heart slow down to the point she appeared dead. Sonny sent her to the island.”

Surprised, Elizabeth looked at him, and he smiled wanly. “Carly took a great deal of pleasure in contacting me to tell me you were dead.”

“Oh—” Elizabeth scowled. “Naturally.”

“Sonny got word to me—” He shook his head. “Anyway.”

“We won that time,” Laura said, “and Stavros—I thought he was dead. But no body. I should know better by now.” She got to her feet. “I understand if you can’t come to Greece right away, Elizabeth, but I have to go. I have to make sure Lucky doesn’t hurt Nikolas.”

“Of course, Laura, but just—” Elizabeth rubbed a finger against her bottom lip. “I want to go. I can—I can try to explain things at work—”

“You have more vacation time coming than most people get in a life time,” Patrick told her. “And you know I’ll take care of the boys. I might have to tie them up—” he said with a wince, “but I got this.”

Elizabeth looked at Jason. “Can—”

“I’ll call Sonny,” Jason told her. “And Spinelli. I’ll get the jet ready and he’ll meet us there. Whatever we need to know, we can figure out on the way there.”

“What are we going to tell the kids?” Laura said. “We can’t tell the truth—”

“Actually—” Elizabeth paused. “That’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

Jason & Elizabeth’s Bedroom

Elizabeth was unsurprised to find Emma on the phone while Spencer and Cameron were furiously writing things down, using the notepad she kept in her nightstand and a fuzzy pink pen from her vanity table.

“So who’s plane are you trying to commandeer?” she asked.

Cameron dropped the pen, scowling as Emma’s eyes widened. “Joss, I’ll call you back later.” She slammed the phone down, and smiled at Elizabeth. “Hi, Aunt Elizabeth. Everything okay?”

“Joss, huh? I know how you feel about her, so that’s real loyalty. Too bad for Joss that her father’s plane is out of town,” Elizabeth said, “and we’re taking Sonny’s. Any other friends with private planes?”

“No,” Spencer muttered. “But I’ll find one. This is Port Charles—”

“Mom, did someone hurt Jake?” Cameron asked, his lip trembling. “Is that why he’s gone?”

“Actually,” Elizabeth said, hoping she wasn’t making a mistake. “It looks like there’s a chance that he’s not—” Oh, God, her little boy—he was alive! Let it be true. Please, please, let it be true.

 

“We heard you guys talking about my family,” Spencer said. “If my family hurt Jake, I have to help fix it. It’s a matter of honor—”

“You are not responsible for your family,” Elizabeth told him. She sat on the bed, ruffled his hair. “As a Cassadine, you need to learn that early. Your father still hasn’t. I think the reason he left you with Grandma Laura was to do exactly that. Grandpa Luke says he’s seen Jake,” she said to Cameron.

“Seen him—” Cameron shook his head. “But—but when you saw him, you had to go away—”

“I was so sad, I dreamed I was seeing him. But Luke says he really—he really did. He’s in Greece with Lucky. They’ve seen Jake. Alive. On the Cassadine estate with Nikolas.”

“With my dad—but—”

“I think your dad found out that your great-grandmother has been keeping a lot of secrets that would hurt people, and he decided to make it right.” Elizabeth saw Jason standing in the doorway. “The jet?”

“Wheels up in an hour,” he said.

“Is it really true?” Cameron asked him. “Is Jake alive?”

“I don’t know,” Jason said. He met Elizabeth’s eyes. “I’m not sure I can trust it,” he admitted. “But whatever is going on, we need to find out.”

“You and Spencer are going to stay with Emma and Patrick,” she told Cameron. “I need you two to promise me—no, the three of you,” she said, crooking a finger at Emma who made a face. “That you are not going to tie Patrick up, steal a plane, and follow us.”

Jason raised his brows, but she just shook her head and continued. “I know you want to help. And I love all of you for it, but this isn’t a game. I’ve been fighting the Cassadines since I was a few years older than you. And I don’t want it for you.”

Emma sat next to her on bed. “But what can we do here? We have to do something. We need bring Jake home. And Spencer’s dad. We need to help.”

“You can help by staying here,” Jason told her. He looked at Cameron. “We’ll bring Jake home.”

“If he’s alive,” the little boy said with a sigh. “I’m afraid it’s not true,” he told his mother. He swiped at his cheek. “But if it is, don’t leave without him, okay? I want my brother back.”

“If Jake’s out there, there’s no way I’m not bringing him home.” Elizabeth pulled her eldest into a tight hug. “There’s nowhere in this world I wouldn’t go for my boys.” She kissed his forehead. “Now, go into your room. Get your things together. Spencer—”

“Grandma Laura brought my things in the car,” he said. He looked oddly vulnerable. “Do you really think my dad is away trying to make things right?”

“That sense of honor you have? The need to make up for your family?” Elizabet smiled at him. “Where do you think it comes from? It’s not Helena. Nikolas loves you. The only reason he’d give you up would be to keep you safe. Trust me — you don’t want to be in the middle of this, Spencer.”

Cameron’s Bedroom

 

Jason followed Cameron into his bedroom and watched the eight-year-old pull a bag from his closet. “Do you want me to help you with anything?” he asked.

“No, I’m okay.” Cameron sat on the edge of his bed, staring down at the carpet for a minute. “Mom told me what you asked her. That you wanted to adopt me.”

Jason hesitated, then sat next to him. “I know. She said you wanted time to think about it.”

“I want Jake to come home,” Cameron said. He sniffled. “I want it a lot. I love my brother. I want Mom to have him back. But mostly because I think if he’s here, we’ll be okay again.” He looked at Jason. “Why do you want me? I’m not a baby. I know I’m not your kid. Not really. Not like Jake.”

“If we decided to do this, you would be my kid. Just like Jake. I’m adopted,” Jason told him. “Monica isn’t my biological mother, either. She adopted me when I was a baby. And after the accident, when I didn’t remember her—she never stopped loving me. Sometimes you’re born in a family, Cam. Sometimes blood does that. But I got to choose a family after my accident. I chose Sonny and Carly. And your mother.”

“Mom told me Aunt Emily was adopted, too.” Cameron’s lip trembled. “And I never knew that because no one never said it. She wasn’t your real sister—”

“What does real mean?” Jason said. “It’s just a word, Cameron. I want to choose you because I love you. I’ve known you all your life. And I want to be part of the rest of it.” He ruffled Cameron’s curls. “But you have to want it, too.”

“Maybe. But I don’t know yet.” Cameron sighed heavily. “But maybe. I want Jake to be alive so much it hurts,” he whispered fiercely. He turned and hurled himself into Jason’s arms. “I miss him. Don’t let nothing else happen to him. Or Mom. Okay?”

“Okay.” Jason hugged him back. “I promise.”

“You scared, too?” Cameron said, his voice muffled. “That it’s not true?”

“Terrified,” Jason admitted. “I’m trying not to think about it. Just putting one foot in front of the other until we know.”

“Mom will be really said if he’s not alive. Don’t let her get too sad because she had to go away last time. I don’t want to lose Mom again.”

“You won’t,” Jason promised. “Let’s get your things together, okay?”

“Okay.”

Front Porch

Elizabeth watched as Laura walked over to Patrick’s house with all the kids, rubbing her arms. “Is this really happening?” she asked Jason as he came to stand next to her. “We’re going to Greece to bring our son home?”

“Maybe,” Jason cautioned. “I know Luke said he was sure—”

“I know you’re not convinced. And maybe I’m wrong to cling to it. But it makes a terrible amount of sense,” Elizabeth said. She looked at him, her eyes shadowed in the setting sunlight. “Helena has always hated me. And she came to taunt me while I was in Shadybrooke. She could have done this, Jason.”

“She didn’t do it alone,” Jason said softly. “If Jake’s alive, someone else had to know. How else did Joss get a kidney?”

Elizabeth pressed her lips together, then stared blindly out to her front lawn. “You think Luke is lying.”

“I don’t know,” Jason said, hesitantly. “I want it to be true,” he said in a low voice. “And if it is—if anyone at the hospital knew—”

“We’ll find out who took our little boy from us.” She lifted her chin. “And we’ll make them all pay.”

September 21, 2020

This entry is part 4 of 16 in the Flash Fiction: Not Knowing When

Written in 60 minutes.


Cosmopolitan Suite: Master Bedroom

Deciding to go to sleep had been the easy part — the location of said sleep was more complicated. Jason had walked Elizabeth into the large master bedroom with the palatial king-sized bed. He’d hesitated as they both looked at the bed — then he’d started to say something about leaving the other room in the suite for Brenda, and he’d take the sofa —

Elizabeth had nearly let him walk out, but at least second—she’d twisted her fingers in the cotton fabric of his shirt, holding him back.

He’d gone temporarily insane and now they were married — she still couldn’t quite wrap her mind around any of that — but maybe it was her turn to take a risk.

“I’m really tired,” she told him. Jason turned to her, drawing his brows together in a bewildered frown. “And that bed is huge. If you’re on the sofa when Brenda and Sonny get here, you won’t get any sleep at all.”

He searched her eyes. “Elizabeth—”

“Let’s just go to sleep. You look so tired, Jason, and that sofa isn’t big enough.” Her fingers still holding his shirt, she drew back over the threshold of the room. With her free hand, she pushed it lightly until it closed.

“I—”

“Like you said — neither of us expected this to be happening. I trust you.” At least in this she did.

Elizabeth gently pushed his leather jacket off his shoulders, and it hit the marble tile of the floor. “I think we can share the bed. We used to sleep in the studio, didn’t we?”

“Yeah.” Jason cleared his throat. He brushed his fingers against her jaw. “Yeah, okay.”

He’d given her his t-shirt to sleep in, and while she changed in the bathroom, he had pulled the light blocking curtains over the window. She knew he could sleep through anything, and had done it for her.

They climbed into the bed, on opposite sides. She’d stared at the ceiling for a long time once he’d switched off the lamp, listening to him breathe. She’d dreamed of this once. Not precisely this — in her dreams, he had always been holding her — just laying in the dark, listening to him breathe.

She’d done that in the studio during the few short weeks they’d shared that pace, and it had been calming then. Reassuring. He was alive, and she’d saved him the way he’d saved her.

Now, it was strange to listen to him breathing, listening to the way it slowed and relaxed as he slid into sleep, and she was still trying to understand exactly she’d ended up as Jason’s wife when she followed him into slumber.

Jason opened his eyes, blinking just once as his eyes adjusted to the dim light of the room. He took in the silk sheets beneath him, the top sheet covering — then turned his head slightly find out that he hadn’t hallucinated the last twelve hours.

Not that he’d ever been one for dreams or hallucinations. There had just been that one time — last year — when he’d picked up Elizabeth’s gloves and for a moment—she’d been in the room with him. Smiling at him.

Then she’d been gone, and Jason decided he was just fine not be able to picture things.

She was laying in the bed next to him, her face turned towards him, her body twisted on its side. He could only dimly make out her features as light seeped around the edges of the heavy blackout fabric covering the window.

He’d come to Vegas to marry Brenda Barrett, and instead —

Instead, Elizabeth had shown up and, in a fit of temper and insanity—he’d decided that marrying her would be proof that he loved her.

He exhaled slowly, turning his face to the ceiling. What had he been thinking? And why had she agreed?

He’d never really pictured himself getting married before. Robin had mentioned it a few times, and he’d always thought they’d get married one day because it was something she wanted. But that was a life time ago.

Do you want proof or not?

He flinched, hearing his own angry words echoing in his brain as Elizabeth had looked at him with wide, confused eyes when he’d demanded a new marriage certificate. He didn’t have any practice with marriage proposals, but that probably wasn’t a good one.

She’d married him anyway.

Jason turned back to her, only half-surprised to find her eyes open, staring back at him. “Hey,” he said softly.

“Hey,” she replied. She slowly sat up, the sheet pooling at her waist. His shirt was too big for her and listed to one side, baring her shoulder. “What time is it?”

“Just before eight,” Jason told her. He sat up, but neither of them made a move to leave the bed.

If they got of bed—if they faced the day—

This was real.

And he was almost sure that she’d take it back. That the craziness would have sunk in and she’d want to run away.

And he wasn’t sure if he’d blame her. He hadn’t proposed to her, had shoved the certificate at her—and married her in the chapel, with the same officiant where he’d nearly married another woman.

She should be running from the suite screaming.

Instead, Elizabeth rubbed the heel of her hand against her chest and looked at him. “You should sleep longer,” she told him. “You—you said you hadn’t slept in two days—three hours isn’t really enough—”

“I’m fine,” Jason said with a shake of his head. “But you worked yesterday—”

At the mention of her job, Elizabeth’s face dimmed and she looked away. “Yeah, I did. Um, I don’t—” She drew her bottom lip between her teeth and bit down. “We said we’d figure it out when we woke up.” Elizabeth met his eyes again. “Any idea how to start that?”

“No.” And he felt a bit lighter when she laughed at him— a genuine laugh of amusement.

“Me, either.” She exhaled on a shorter laugh. “This is insane. I’ve never done anything as crazy as this, and I’ve faked my death.”

“Marrying me is crazier than taking poison?” Jason asked skeptically. “Should I be insulted?”

“Oh, that—” Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “That was nothing compared to this. All I did was drink some wine. Nikolas and Sonny did everything else. Actually, it was a relief,” she admitted. “I woke up on the island and didn’t have to go home until it was over. This—” She gestured at the space between them. “This is definitely crazier.”

She still didn’t look sad or upset, so Jason decided not to take crazy as a bad thing. She wasn’t asking for an annulment. Or a divorce.

And she was still in bed.

Elizabeth bit her lip, looked at him, and he had a feeling if he could see her face in full light, her cheeks would be flaming red. “Do you wanna know something really weird?”

“What?” Jason slid closer. Just an inch. Well, maybe three inches.

“I really thought we’d both wake up, look at each other, and — I don’t know—we’d trip over each other to apologize. Or call it a mistake. Or, I don’t know, something. I thought I’d wake up and…regret it.”

Her soft confession took his breath away, and everything inside him tightened. “And you don’t?”

“Do you?”

He shook his head. He wasn’t going to let her deflect. Not again. “I asked you first.”

“No,” she said finally. “I’m—I’m not sure this was a good idea, but as insane as it sounds, I don’t really regret it either.”

“Me either.”

“Really?” Elizabeth tipped her head to the side. “Not even a little?”

“No.” Jason slid closer again, leaving less than a foot of space between them. He cupped her cheek with his hand, and she leaned into it. “Not even a little.”

“I do…I do kind of wish one thing had been different.” Elizabeth opened her eyes, met his. “I wish we hadn’t been so tired when we got back to the hotel.”

Jason lifted his brows as she pressed a hand against the one on her face, then kissed his palm. “Are you tired now?” he murmured.

Elizabeth grinned at him, and he felt his mouth curve up in response. She hadn’t smiled at him like that in a long time. “Not even a little bit.”

She was still smiling when he cupped the back of her neck and dragged her him, crushing his mouth against hers, not giving her a chance to change her mind.

She pressed herself against him, wrapping her legs around his waist as they rolled over on the bed, nipping each other’s lips, both struggling to take control. When her fingers slid beneath the fabric of his briefs, Jason grabbed her hands and pressed them back against the bed. She arched her brows. “No?”

“Not yet,” he said, leaning down to kiss her neck, trailing his mouth down her collarbone. He released her hands so his own could slide down her body, push his shirt higher on her hips—

“Not fair—” she moaned.

He started to laugh—

Then there was a knock on the door. “Jase? You up? We got stuff to go over—”

Jason felt Elizabeth tense beneath him, like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over her. “Elizabeth—”

She closed her eyes. “You should go,” she said, flatly. “It might be important.”

It might be. But it also might be bullshit. Like it had been nearly every time Sonny or Carly had called him last summer and dragged him away from her.

And if Jason got out of this bed right now—

Elizabeth would start regretting everything.

“I was going to say,” he said, “the door isn’t locked. And Sonny doesn’t know how to mind his own business. Don’t move.”

“Jason—”

“I mean it.” He kissed her, hard, tangling his hands in her hair, hoping she could taste his frustration, impatience, and desire. “Don’t move.”

“Not a muscle,” she managed as he rolled away from her.

On the other side of the door, Sonny was about to knock again when there was a CLICK sound. He stared at the door for a minute, frowning until he realized what he’d heard —

The bolt sliding home.

Locking the door.

“He—” Sonny turned to find Brenda, freshly showered and sipping a cup of a tea like she had a full eight hours of sleep and a morning at a spa rather than less than three hours of sleep.

Probably came from sleeping in a luxurious bed and not a crappy sofa. He rolled his neck. He’d be feeling this for weeks. He was not as young as he’d been once. “He locked it.”

“Yes, he did.” Brenda saluted him with the cup. “He just got married three hours ago, Sonny. Let the boy off the leash.”

Sonny scowled. “But—”

“You know, when they come up for air,” Brenda continued, ignoring him, “I’ve decided that I’m not even going to ask him to thank me.”

“Thank you—”

“I mean, yes, it was close,” she said, “but if I hadn’t dragged him to Vegas, he wouldn’t be knocking boots with his new wife. Whatever they were fighting about — seems like they’ve taken care of it.”

“I’m the reason she’s here,” Sonny said, irritated, stomping away from the door and all thoughts about what might be happening on the other side. “I get some credit.”

“Uh, I didn’t lie to him. You lied to her.” Brenda pointed at herself. “Winner.”

“Listen—”

It was nearly three hours—three hours—before the bedroom door unlocked, and Brenda was perusing the room service menu for lunch while Sonny was scowling at the list of voice mail messages from Carly who was not taking his silence kindly.

She was going to be seriously unhappy when they finally got home tonight.

Jason stepped out of the room, dressed again in the jeans and t-shirt he’d worn the night before. He walked over to the table where Brenda was sitting and sat down as if he hadn’t ignored Sonny for the last three hours —

A minute later, Elizabeth—flushed and avoiding everyone’s eyes—followed him out. She glanced at Jason for a minute, bit her lip, then sat down, reaching for a bottle of water from the basket in the middle of the table.

Sonny wanted to say something cutting and obnoxious, but since he’d just barely gotten away without being pummeled by Jason for his lies to Elizabeth — and both of them seemed in a good enough mood that he might end up being forgiven —

Well, he decided to just let it go.

“Uh, I woke up to a voice mail this morning,” Sonny said to them. “From our guy at the PCPD.”

Jason frowned, glanced at Brenda and Elizabeth as if confused why Sonny was saying anything in front of them. “Sonny—”

“We can go,” Elizabeth offered. “Um, maybe downstairs—”

“No, this is—” Sonny took a deep breath, met Elizabeth’s eyes. “The PCPD is looking for you. With a material witness order.”

“Material witness order?” Elizabeth shook her head as Jason scowled. “What’s that?”

“It’s faster than an arrest warrant,” Brenda said, almost cheerfully. “The cops want to haul you in, but warrants need evidence and judges and stuff like that. I’ve had a few of them.”

“Arrested—” Jason began as Elizabeth just wrinkled her nose.

“Oh, my God, don’t tell me she’s pressing charges.” With a roll of her eyes. “I didn’t get anywhere near her with the box cutter, and it’s not like I was really going to cut all her damn hair off.”

Jason broke off in mid sentence as he stared at her. “What?”

“I don’t even think the box cutter would have worked,” Elizabeth continued with a shrug. “And, in my defense, I told Courtney to shut up.”

Sonny hesitated. “Uh—”

“Courtney? The cheap blonde? No, I don’t think a box cutter would work—”

“Elizabeth,” Jason began.

“As interested as I am in why you threatened my sister with a knife,” Sonny said, slowly, drawing all their attention, “and believe me—we’ll circle back to that—the PCPD wants to talk to you about last night. On the pier.”

“Pier?” Jason repeated.

“I thought you said your guys didn’t find anything,” Elizabeth said, focusing on Sonny. “You said that before we were even in the air—”

“I know. But what was true at one in the morning—” Sonny shook his head. “It wasn’t true at five. They found a body.”

Elizabeth’s face paled. “A body—”

“And you were seen on security footage running from the pier,” he said with a wince. “Around the same time the gunshots were reported.”

“What the hell is going on—” Jason got to his feet, looking at Elizabeth. “Elizabeth—”

“There’s more, isn’t there?” Elizabeth slowly stood up, keeping her eyes on Sonny. “What’s the rest of it? The PCPD wouldn’t be coming after me with a material witness order otherwise.”

“The body was Zander Smith,” Sonny said with a sigh. “You were seen running from the scene of his murder. So, yeah, they kind of want to talk to you.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes. “Zander’s dead.”

“Yes.”

“And—” She opened her eyes, looked at Jason. “Oh, God.”

“What—” Then Sonny saw it hit Jason at the same time, his cheeks losing a bit of color. “They think I did it.”

“And that Elizabeth saw something.”

“Which means this, uh, marriage thing—” Sonny wrinkled his nose. “Which was impetuous and funny about an hour ago now looks like a cover-up.”