Written in 57 minutes.

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Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

He needed to change the locks on the penthouse. If he’d had another set of locks, he’d still be upstairs with Elizabeth where everything made sense. Instead, Jason was standing in his living room, glaring at a stricken Carly while Baldwin and Taggert awaited his answer to Carly’s question.

Why the hell had Sonny—

“Well?” Baldwin demanded, shoving the detective aside. “You marry the witness against you, Morgan, or what? Is that why Elizabeth didn’t show up for work today? You dragged her to Vegas?”

“If you have any questions for me, you can talk to my lawyer,” Jason said flatly. “And I don’t have one right now, so unless you’re arresting me—”

“Oh, we’re not here for you, Anger Boy,” Taggert sneered. “We got a material witness order for Elizabeth so we’re bringing her in—”

“What’s the criminal proceeding?” Brenda asked as she joined Jason’s side. “I thought you could only get them if there was a pending proceeding and you wanted to make sure she was available. So what’s the case? Who’s the bad guy?”

“Brenda,” Taggert said with an impatient sigh, “this doesn’t concern you—”

“Unless—” Scott gestured at the set of suitcases by the stairs that Brenda had been pawing through. “Unless Mrs. Corinthos here is wrong and the blushing bridal brunette is not Elizabeth Webber. Maybe we got the wrong idea—”

“What’s going on?”

Jason kept his expression blank as they all turned towards the staircase and Elizabeth stepped off the bottom stair. She’d taken the shower, so her hair was damp, already curling at the ends, and she’d put on the purple summer dress she’d left behind. She’d probably gotten impatient waiting for Brenda to bring her a top.

“So you are here,” Scott said, narrowing his eyes, looking at the luggage, then Brenda, then Elizabeth again. “You know polygamy ain’t legal in New York.”

“Polygamy?” she repeated.

“Carly here let your good news slip,” Scott continued, “but we were debating the actual identity of the bride since Brenda looks like she’s all moved in. Or maybe you’re just a really understanding type of wife. I mean, you practically look alike—”

“Elizabeth, we got an order to bring you down to the PCPD,” Taggert interrupted as Elizabeth just stared at the DA with wide eyes. “So—”

“Am I under arrest?” She folded her arms. “Because I need to call a lawyer—”

“No, we got questions and we want to make sure you answer them—”

“I don’t understand. How do you get a material witness order if you don’t even know the witness has any material?” Carly demanded. “You haven’t talked to her—”

“Carly,” Sonny hissed. “You’ve done enough.”

Elizabeth bit her lip, looked at Jason hesitantly, and he knew she was regretting the decision to come downstairs. He hated this. Hated her being in the middle of all of this, and hated even more than it was his friend that tippd Baldwin and Taggert off about their marriage. They hadn’t even really figured any of it out yet, and now—

“Where have you been for the last forty-eight hours?” Taggert asked. “You didn’t show up for work, and night before last, you were seen running from Pier 52 after gunshots were fired. You didn’t call to report them—”

“It’s Port Charles,” Elizabeth said, walking forward, glancing at Brenda who was next to Jason. The older brunette stepped back, but Elizabeth remained several feet from him, and he just wanted to reach out, take her hand, pull her close to him and make them stop asking questions. “Someone is always shooting at someone.”

Taggert lifted his brows. “I went to see you at your studio when we got the footage. It was almost three in the morning. You weren’t there—”

“No, I wasn’t. I flew to Las Vegas that night with Sonny.” Elizabeth twisted a silver ring on her right hand. “Jason was already there, and we were meeting him.”

“You closed at Kelly’s at midnight. You went to Vegas after that?” Taggert said. “What the hell is in Vegas?”

“We have a hotel on the Strip,” Sonny interjected. “The Cosmopolitan. We checked in around five AM Vegas time. You can call the hotel.” He flashed a dimpled smile. “We just got back last night—”

“Short trip,” Scott said. He focused on Elizabeth. “Marriages are public record, Elizabeth. All I gotta do is call the registrar in Vegas—”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said, making a face. “We got married that night when I got to Vegas. I’m sorry if I didn’t send you an invitation, but you know, you’re not exactly high on my list, Mr. Baldwin.” She flicked her eyes over Taggert’s. “You either, for that matter. “

“You got shot at on the pier,” Taggert said slowly, “then ran to Harborview Towers, hopped a plan with Sonny, and got married to Jason, and I’m supposed to think it’s a coincidence that Zander Smith showed up dead the same day?”

“I can’t tell you what to think,” Elizabeth told him. “All I can tell you is that getting married to Jason had absolutely nothing to do with Zander or what happened on the pier.” She met Taggert’s gaze head on, and Jason knew that she’d phrased the response deliberately so that every word was the truth.

“Wait—” Scott held up a hand. “Morgan was already in Vegas?” His head snapped to Jason who just stared at him blandly. “When did you get there?”

“You can talk to my lawyer,” Jason said. “Elizabeth already told you. Our marriage doesn’t have anything to do with what happened in Port Charles.”

“I doubt that. We can subpoena flight records,” Scott reminded him. “Passenger lists. Car rentals. If you were in Vegas at the time of death—” He shrugged. “Then we can let this go.” He glanced at Elizabeth. “Unless Miss Webber—I’m sorry—Mrs. Morgan—” he said with such venom that Elizabeth nearly flinched. “Unless Mrs. Morgan wants to tell us what the hell she was doing on Pier 52 after midnight? Maybe getting rid of an old boyfriend to clear the way—”

Elizabeth’s mouth dropped as Jason clenched his jaw. “Lawyer,” he repeated. “Get out.”

“Is that it, Elizabeth? Wanted to make sure Smith couldn’t mess up a good thing? Got tired of playing them off one on another—”

Elizabeth put an arm out just Jason started to step forward, blocking him from commiting assault. “If you expect me to answer any other questions,” she said, icily, “then you should get an arrest warrant. Do I need to call my lawyer?”

“Do you have a lawyer?” Taggert asked with interest. He gestured at Jason and Sonny. “Their lawyer quit after her sister got blown up because of them—”

“I’ll get a lawyer within the hour,” she retorted. “And I’ll press charges for violating my constituational rights and for trespassing. We’ve told you to leave. Twice.”

“We’ll be in touch.”

Scott closed the door behind him as Elizabeth let her head drop down, her shoulders slumping. Jason looked at Sonny, who nodded.

“Carly,” he began.

“Wait—” The blonde frowned as her husband took her arm. “No, we need to fix this—why the hell did you get married? What is going on?”

“We’re going home,” Sonny told her, “so you can do all the yelling I ignored last night.” When they were gone, Jason turned to Brenda who put her hands up.

“I already told you I wanted to be anywhere else,” she reminded him.

“I need to get my things from the studio,” Elizabeth said to Jason. She tucked her hair behind her ears. “I can do that on my own if you can get a guard—”

“No.” He shook his head, then went over the closet to get his jacket and tossed her the one she’d worn in Vegas. “No, I want to get that done.” Jason looked at Brenda. “Don’t go anywhere. We still need to figure this out.”

“Always nice to be an item on the list,” Brenda said with a roll of her eyes, but Jason was already ignoring her and steering Elizabeth towards the door.

Studio

They didn’t talk on the ride over—Jason took her on the bike with a guard following in one of their SUVs so she’d have a way to get her things to the penthouse. The guard waited downstairs while she led him upstairs, unlocking the door and shoving it open.

She’d only been gone a few days, but already the studio felt like another lifetime. Elizabeth sat on the arm of the sofa and looked at Jason. “Do you think they’re really going to come after me for this?”

“No,” Jason said, but he didn’t sound nearly as sure as she’d hope he would. “No,” he repeated. “They wanted to piss me off, make me mad enough to give them something. Taggert still thinks I did this—”

“I don’t know, Scott sounded like he was halfway to a motive,” Elizabeth admitted. She stared down at her chipped nail polish. “I mean, you think he couldn’t sell it to a jury?”

“Elizabeth—”

“Imagine me, some kind of femme fatale,” she said, trying hard to force a smile on her face. “Got a rich lover on the hook, but I gotta make the last guy get out of the picture—”

“Hey—” Jason pulled Elizabeth up to her feet and into his arms. She pressed her face against his leather jacket. “We both know that’s not what happened.”

“No, it’s actually worse,” she admitted. Elizabeth tipped her head back to look at him. “And you said it yourself. Zander made himself your enemy, and I—I didn’t do what I should have. He didn’t matter to me. Not really. We weren’t even friends, and I only—” She sighed, sliding one of her fingers down the smooth material of his jacket. “I just went to see him in the hospital, and then Lucky was there, telling me what I couldn’t do—I wasn’t going to ask Zander to stay until that happened—”

“And then I came over and told you the same thing,” Jason said, with a slight wince. “I’m sorry—”

“It still doesn’t change what I did later.” Elizabeth stepped back, that false smile still on her face. “Maybe it was partly just being scared of being alone. Of not trusting that you and I were going to go anywhere. I don’t know.”

“You made a mistake—”

“And you forgave me because that’s what you do.” Elizabeth bit her lip as she picked up the suitcase she’d brought home from the penthouse two weeks earlier and flipped it open. “And I just run away. Isn’t that what you said?”

Jason came up behind her, drawing her against his chest, wrapping an arm around her waist. “That night—in Vegas—I didn’t mean it—I was just—I was angry,” he admitted. “At you, at Sonny, myself for letting it get so crazy—”

“You meant it.” Elizabeth turned. “You’re right. You forgive me, and I just go on to the next terrible thing. And the one time that you mess up, I didn’t even—” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have let you explain. Or just accepted it and forgiven you like you do for me.”

“Elizabeth—”

“Let’s just get this stuff and go. I didn’t even really unpack from when I moved out,” she told him. “You have so much to do, to worry about—”

“It can wait,” Jason insisted. He gently pressed her shoulder so that she faced him again. He traced his fingertips down her jawline, waiting for her to meet his eyes. “I know there’s a lot going on,” he began. “And we’re not—we’re not okay yet. You and me. We can’t fix everything with screaming at each other on the street and getting married five minutes later.”

She dipped her gaze down, her chest tightening. “I know,” she said in a painful whisper. “I wish we could just pretend the rest of it isn’t there.”

“Sometimes we will,” he told her, tipping her chin up again until she looked at him. “And sometimes we won’t. Right now, I just want us to promise each other something. I don’t want you to run away again when you get scared.”

“And I don’t want you to let me go because you think I’m better off.” Elizabeth gripped the sides of his jacket, leaned up to press her lips against his. “You were right,” she whispered against his mouth.

“When?” he replied, his breath hot against her cheek as his lips traced a line to the pulse point in her neck.

“Sonny told you were hurt, and I would have gone to the ends of the Earth to get to you,” she said softly. He drew back, their eyes holding. “I do love you.”

“I love you, too. I just wish I hadn’t shouted it at you the first time I said it,” Jason said with regret in his eyes.

“I’m glad you did,” Elizabeth said. “It was actually—” She bit her lip, then grinned at him, a more genuine one that she could feel down to the tips of her toes. “Once I got past the whole being screamed at part, I think it was kind of hot.”

He laughed, leaned his forehead against hers, tugging her closer. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Elizabeth pressed her mouth to his collarbone. “So let’s get my stuff, go home and deal with Brenda so we can be alone.”

“That sounds like a great idea.”

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