I am very excited to be bringing this story to Flash Fiction! I had this idea a while ago and workshopped it a bit in my Flash Fiction archives. I’ve always wanted to write the 1999 time period more, but I haven’t really found a place for it to fit into my normal schedule And if Signs of Life didn’t make it into the Flash Fiction category, you might not see this story for another three years.

This story picks up directly after Jason moves out of Elizabeth’s studio in 1999 — after the infamous Christmas Party where Nikolas punched Jason and announced that Jason and Elizabeth were sleeping together. Bobbie came the day after Christmas tell Jason that Liz didn’t need to be known as Jason Morgan’s girlfriend, so he moved out. This begins the next day. I’ll have a more thorough recap if you want it later.

Written in 50 minutes. Time for a basic spellcheck, but not typos.

ETA: I’ll be honest — the PCPD scene in this flash fic entry was written previously. I had a version of it from old draft that I just liked a lot, and didn’t see the point in rewriting it. I cleaned it up and edited it, but everything else is new.

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Monday, December 27, 1999

Kelly’s: Kitchen

“I will not get arrested, I will not get arrested,” Elizabeth muttered as she leaned against the brick wall, her eyes closed, counting to ten.

She opened her eyes to see DJ, the cook, staring at her with one dark brow lifted. “You got problems, Lizzie?”

“Problems. Do I got problems?” she repeated. Elizabeth huffed, then straightened. “Do you know what my problem is?”

“Am I going to be sorry I asked?”

“Do you see that crowd of people out there?” She gestured out the serving window where Kelly’s was packed, uncharacteristically crowded for a pre-dinner rush hour. Kids weren’t in school and most of the warehouses were shutdown for the holidays. Kelly’s was usually dead this time of day.

But not today.

Today, someone must have told someone else that Elizabeth Webber, town harlot, was back at work because her shift had started a stampede of people who wanted to look at her. Whisper. Giggle. And wonder what Jason Morgan saw in her.

“I see them,” DJ said. “You should take their orders—”

“Do you think people are lining up to snicker at Jason?” she demanded. “No. Because I’m the woman. He can do whatever he wants—”

—including moving out of the studio abruptly with no warning or explanation that made a lick of sense, then not bothering to even call her today, the first day in almost a month they hadn’t seen each other, bastard couldn’t wait to shake her loose—

“Well, I don’t know, Lizzie, if Jason Morgan worked at a diner, maybe people would be—”

“Oh, don’t help, DJ,” she muttered. She grabbed her order pad and stalked out into the diner, hoping that some of these gawkers would at least tip her well.

They did not. In fact, some of them didn’t tip at all. Maybe, she thought nastily as she bussed a table because Gavin had flaked again, maybe those beach blonde bimbos thought Jason paid for everything because that’s how they would handle dating a sexy, rich—

“You are an idiot,” she muttered to herself. She dumped the tub in the kitchen, then went back out into the diner, wincing when she saw Carly Quartermaine seated at the counter. Of course.

“Are locusts next?” she asked the ceiling.

“Now, don’t you be tempting the Good Lord, Lizzie,” DJ admonished her. “He’ll strike you down for it.”

“He’ll have to get in line,” she retorted.

“Having a bad day, Lizzie?” Carly asked as she picked up a menu, doing her best nonchalant expression. “I guess it hurts to know Jason couldn’t wait to get away from you as soon as everyone knew he was slumming it with you.”

“I actually think I’d be an upgrade,” Elizabeth said with a sweet smile. “But I’ll take your word for it since no one knows trailer trash better than you.”

Carly slapped the menu on the counter, her brown eyes sparking. “You wanna go a round?”

“Today? I absolutely do.” Elizabeth held up a finger. “But I fight dirty. I bite. And you can ask my brother Steven to show you the scar I gave him when I was six. Served him right for cutting my doll’s hair for a pretend surgery.”

And her parents had just laughed at her when she’d cried about it — Steven was going to be a doctor. It was natural for him to practice.

Carly’s scowl deepened, and Elizabeth thought she might actually take her up on the offer — until another figure approached them. Elizabeth winced as she locked eyes with her disapproving grandmother and Audrey’s thin, tight smile.

Carly twisted on the stool. “Oh. Mrs. Hardy. Here to pick Lizzie up for her Girl Scouts meeting?”

“Carly,” Audrey said, carefully. She stepped around the blonde. “Would you mind if I spoke with my granddaughter alone?”

Elizabeth sighed as Carly shrugged and picked up her coat. She’d rather get into a fistfight in the back alley than deal with another round with her grandmother, but Carly slid off the stool.

“See you around, Lizzie,” Carly tossed over her shoulder.

“Say hi to your husband for me!” Elizabeth called after her. Then turned her eyes on Audrey. “Gram, let’s save us both some time. You’re disappointed in me. Very disappointed. What would my parents think —” She waved her hand in the air. “And so on.”

“Actually, I was wondering what Lucky would think.”

Elizabeth pressed her lips together as she took that in, the tightness in her chest beginning to ache. “I think,” she said softly, “that Lucky loved me very much. And that he would want me to get on with my life. I’m only eighteen, Gram. I didn’t die with Lucky. No matter how much I wished I had.”

“Oh—” Audrey closed her eyes, shook her head. “Of course that’s not what I meant. But it was such a shameful display at the hospital—how could you—”

“I didn’t do anything. And you know it. I was there to work the party. Jason and I were just talking, and Nikolas started that fight. Jason and I didn’t do anything wrong—”

“When did this start?” Audrey demanded. “Before or after November?”

“Wondering if you have a case at the PCPD? Gonna try to get him on statutory rape?” Elizabeth said, biting out the final word. “Go ahead. Give it your best shot. Wouldn’t be the first time the PCPD couldn’t do anything—” She sighed. “There’s nothing to tell before November—”

“But there is something to tell?”

Another anguished voice cam from behind Elizabeth, and she turned, surprised to find her best friend, Emily Bowen-Quartermaine, standing there. She must have come in the back alley. “Emily—”

“How could you keep this a secret from me? I’m your best friend. He’s my brother!”

Elizabeth was nearly at the end of her rope with this damn day. “I was right, DJ. It’s the locusts—”

“Locusts? Elizabeth, will you never be serious?” Audrey sighed.

“You should have told me!” Emily said, very nearly stomping her foot. Elizabeth looked at the watch on her wrist and sighed in relief

Four-thirty. It was over.

“I didn’t tell you, Emily, because I don’t owe you the details of my life. I choose to share them, but you don’t get to demand anything from me.” Elizabeth untied her apron and shoved it on the counter. “My sex life is my business. Not yours—”

Audrey moaned slightly as she pressed a hand to her head. “Oh, dear God, what would your grandfather say if he were here?”

“Sex life!” Emily repeated, her eyes bulging. “You’re having sex—”

“That’s it. Party’s over,” Elizabeth decided. She stalked past Emily to the back where she’d stowed her coat and purse for a quick get away out the back. “Hey, DJ, what comes after locusts?”

“Darkness,” the cook said, with a sad shake of his head. “But don’t you go temping that, Lizzie. There are bad things in the dark.”

Elizabeth sighed. “Tell me about it,” she murmured, then she pushed open the security door and left the diner.

Elm Street Pier

For half a minute, Elizabeth thought about staking a position on the pier to see if she could run into Jason. She should probably warn him that she hadn’t set Emily straight on the platonic nature of their relationship—

But then she realized that if Emily went over to scream at Jason about something that wasn’t her business, he’d get a small taste of the nonsense she’d lived through that day —

And if there was a perverse pleasure in that, Elizabeth wasn’t going to complain.

Besides, as soon as she came to the top of the stairs, she saw Nikolas Cassadine, her former best friend, sitting on one of the benches.

And her ire only grew.

All of this was because Nikolas couldn’t mind his own business. Couldn’t respect her boundaries. Thought he had a right to tell her what to do—

She sauntered down the steps, and he turned at the sound. He drew his brows together. “Elizabeth,” he said warily. He got to his feet.

Good, he should be worried.

“At what point did I give you the impression that you had any right to tell me what to do?” she asked coolly.

“I know you’re angry—”

“Angry? You humiliated me in front of half of the town,” Elizabeth snapped. “I don’t want you, Nikolas. Get over it.”

His cheeks flushed as he lifted his chin. “That’s not what this was about—”

“No? Could have fooled me. We were friends. Until you tried to kiss me, and I didn’t want it. I don’t want you,” she said flatly. “And I felt really bad about hurting you. But you don’t have that same problem. You didn’t care that you were hurting me, that you were making my life more difficult—”

“If you’re ashamed of your affair,” Nikolas sneered.

“Affair? I’m single, Nikolas. I didn’t die last April, and I am not going to spend the rest of my life alone! If it wasn’t Jason, it was always going to be someone. Just admit it, Nikolas! You’re not mad that it’s Jason, you’re mad that it’s not you—”

Nikolas glowered. “He’ll just hurt you. The way he did Robin—”

“And that would be my business. Not yours. You and I are done, Nikolas. The Cassadine in you really jumped out,” she said. “We’re not friends. Maybe we never were—”

“You know that’s not true—”

“You never liked me,” Elizabeth reminded him. “And I didn’t like you either. Let’s go back to that. I think our first impressions were correct.”

She turned and stalked up the stairs, leaving Nikolas behind.

For good this time.

PCPD: Squad Room

Marcus Taggert was not having a great first day back after a holiday break. He grimaced as he listened to the irritating hold music on the other line. All he wanted was a John Doe floater to be fingerprinted.

Why the hell did everyone keep acting like it was so damn hard? IT wasn’t his fault the body had been dumped in the harbor and so bloated and decomposd that it couldn’t be identified visually?

Did anyone think Taggert wanted to look at those damn photos first thing in the morning—

Taggert scowled at the phone receiver in his hand as if the pathologist on the other line could see him. “Well, can’t you just run the prints? No, no. Don’t give me this bullshit about it being a holiday. That was yesterday. Pick up the stiff’s fingers, roll them in some fucking ink—don’t give me attitude, Carson, or the next person you talk to will be the Commissioner.”

He snorted. “Yeah, I’ll wait.” Never failed. As he waited for the pathologist to return to the phone, he scanned the squad room and noted his partner, Andy Capelli, taking a statement from an increasingly irate Nikolas Cassadine.

When the younger man stormed out of the room, Taggert lifted his brows. “What’s his damage?”

“Oh, he wants me to file assault charges against Jason Morgan,” Capelli said. “Can you believe sweet little Elizabeth Webber has gotten mixed up with that asshole?” he snorted.

“Mixed up with? Like—” Taggert winced. “Sleeping together?” No. Not possible.

“Says Elizabeth confirmed it. He found Morgan with her in a studio her grandmother rented for her birthday a few weeks ago.”

“Well, she’s not the first good woman to see something worthwhile in an asshole,” Taggert said. The pathologist came back on the line finally, and the name had him clenching his teeth. “You’re sure—hey, cut the sarcasm, asshole—yeah, okay, send me over the full autopsy when you’re done.”

He set the receiver down gently in the cradle. “When did Cassadine say he saw Morgan at Elizabeth’s place?”

Capelli glanced at his notes. “Ah, around mid-December. Maybe the 13th. He didn’t remember for sure. Why?”

Taggert pursed his lips and tapped his pen against his desk blotter. “You said there was a fight. Was it that day?”

“Yeah—Cassadine wasn’t talking about that one though. Apparently they got into it at the GH Christmas party, too.” Capelli leaned forward, his dark eyes focused. “You think there’s something to the assault charge?”

“No, I’m thinking about timing. I remember thinking I hadn’t seen Morgan around for a while, and usually I do. We both go to Kelly’s for coffee almost every day, but I didn’t see him around much in December.”

“So, then I guess he was holed up with the Webber girl then—”

“Or,” Taggert said slowly, “she’s been covering for him. The guy at the morgue printed my floater. Anthony Moreno.”

“Anthony—” Capelli closed his mouth and just stared at him. “Moreno. Corinthos and Morgan’s rival. But Morgan’s too smart to dump a body like this—”

“I’m not saying I have all the details worked out. I’m saying that it’s all very interesting, and I’m not sure I buy that Jason Morgan is sleeping with Elizabeth Webber. Not—not like this.” Taggert hesitated. “I mean, everything she’s been through—Morgan—” How did he phrase this so that Capelli would understand?

“Morgan’s protective of her. I could see that the one time I saw them together. I don’t know why she’d be covering for him, but I also don’t believe it’s what Cassadine thinks it is. It’s…it’s worth finding out exactly how long its been since anyone saw Moreno and if Morgan has an alibi for that time period.”

“All right, let’s go check it out.”

Studio: Back Alley

Elizabeth turned the corner and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the motorcycle parked there—and the man sitting on it. Jason Morgan arched a brow at her as she stood there like an idiot. “Hey.”

“Um, hey.” She approached him, folding her arms nervously. “What—why—”

“I was wondering,” Jason said with a light grin that made something in her chest flutter. “Why I got a voice mail from my sister demanding to know why I hadn’t told her about us. Apparently, you wouldn’t tell her because our sex life isn’t any of her business.”

Elizabeth pursed her lips, deciding she needed to answer that question very carefully because truth be told, she was pretty sure she just figured out what it meant to be turned on by someone just saying a thing.

Because Jason referring their sex life—even fictionally—was making everything inside her feel sparkly, and fluttering—and stupid.

And if she opened her mouth right now she might do something insane like ask him to repeat our sex life on a loop for the next fifty years.

“In my defense,” Elizabeth said, “I’m not wrong.”

Jason tipped his head. “Yeah?” His grin stretched even further. “How so?”

“The fact we, uh, don’t have a sex life isn’t relevant.” She met his eyes, then arched her own brows. “It still doesn’t make it her business. Or do you tell your sister about every woman you sleep with?”

Well, that was wildly inappropriate, Elizabeth decided as she watched Jason’s eyes widen slightly. She was nearly ready to apologize and stop this ridiculous attempt to flirt—

Oh my God, was she trying to flirt with Jason Morgan?

But then Jason just nodded. He held out the helmet, and Elizabeth took it from him. “You’re right. And if she was half as irritated with you in person as she was in the message—well, I guess you deserve to have a little fun.”

“That’s what I thought.” Elizabeth fastened the helmet, climbed on the back of the bike. “This has been the absolutely worst day.”

“Cliff road?”

“Fast.”

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.”

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.

Written in 53 minutes. Basic spell check.

---

Studio

Elizabeth stared at the search warrant that Taggert dangled in front of her, struggling to process not only what was happening in front of her but what had happened less than five minutes ago.

Jason had kissed her.

Jason had kissed her.

Jason Morgan had kissed her.

She knew she should be focusing on the search warrant and the police officers standing behind the irritated detective, but her brain was screaming at her that she needed to shut the door on him, turn around and ask Jason what the hell that had meant before they lost the moment—

“Last chance,” Taggert said, drawing Elizabeth’s attention back to him. She frowned. “Answer my questions—”

Behind her, she heard Jason make a sound that might have been a mixture of a growl and a hiss, and she knew that he never ever showed Taggert any reaction — except when Taggert was harassing her.

Because she didn’t want to explain to anyone why Jason was arrested for committing assault against an officer, Elizabeth took a deep breath. “Do you mind if I read it?”

“Excuse me?” Taggert frowned, letting his hand fall slightly. “Read it?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “I’d like to read it so I know what you’re looking for and so that I can make sure you don’t touch anything or take anything you’re not supposed to.” She held out her hand.

Taggert squinted. “Did you go to law school this semester or something?” he demanded. “Or is Morgan giving you lessons?”

“Uh, this is the state of New York and I watch Law & Order,” Elizabeth said with a roll of her eyes. “Reruns are on, like, all the time. So I know that if I request a copy of the search warrant before you come in, you have to give it to me. I’m not allowed to stop you, but I am—”

Taggert glowered but shoved the paper at her. She unfolded the paper and frowned at it. “You’re looking for bloody clothing, firearms, and any other evidence that suggests involvement in a crime.” She wrinkled her nose. “That seems really vague, doesn’t it?”

“Elizabeth—”

“Oh. You have a mistake on your warrant.” Elizabeth beamed at him. “My studio is on the fourth floor. You have it listed as the fifth floor.” She handed it back to him. “You need to correct that or anything you find might be thrown out of court.”

Taggert stared at her. “Who are you?”

“You heard her—” Jason began but Elizabeth waved him off. She could handle this.

“I mean, if you execute this search now with incorrect paperwork,” Elizabeth explained to Taggert, “I’m just going to tell the lawyer I hire to sue the PCPD that you knew it was incorrect and that you verbally, in front of witnesses that include your fellow officers, made it clear that you were planning to illegally search my studio for vague evidence because I was exercising my constitutional right to remain silent. It’s your choice.”

Taggert pressed his lips together. “I will be back with corrected paperwork,” he told her. “And they’re standing right outside to make sure you don’t throw anything out—”

“I would think you’d want me to throw things out,” Elizabeth said, opening her eyes wide with feigned innocence. “Because then I’ve abandoned the property and you don’t need a warrant. Is that why they’re staying?”

He stared at her for a long moment, then turned to the officers. “Let’s go,” he muttered, snapping his fingers. Elizabeth watched them go down the hall and head into the service stairs. She closed the door, letting all of the air out of her chest at once. She felt slightly dizzy and light headed.

“How—” Jason paused. “How did you know to do that?” he asked.

She turned. “What? Oh. I meant what I told him. They have reruns on Law & Order on one one of those cable networks all the time, and I spent like half the spring watching them over and over again.” She folded her arms. “I watched them a lot when I was home sick, and—” Elizabeth squinted at him. “Do you think he’ll be back with corrected paperwork? I wonder if he thinks the canvas knives count as a evidence.”

“I’ll call Alexis,” Jason said, still staring at her as if he’d never seen her before. “Elizabeth—”

“I know it must come as shock to you, and clearly to the rest of the world, but I know how to take care of myself. I’m not helpless,” she told him. “I’m sorry if that’s a problem—”

“It’s not.” Jason gritted his teeth. “I’m sorry,” he added. “I just—I hate that you’re being dragged into this. Alexis will make it go away. You’ve told Taggert you’re not answering questions, and I know she could get a search warrant thrown out.”

“Thanks.” She bit her lip, then tucked her hair behind her ears. “I don’t think they can force me to answer their questions, right?”

“You mean Law & Order didn’t cover this?” he asked with half a grin. She rolled her eyes. “No. Unless he decides to be really stupid and make it seem like you’re an accomplice—but that’s not going to happen. No one knows I was shot or that you took care of me.” He hesitated. “Except Sonny and Bobbie.” He sighed. “And Carly.”

“Oh. Well, Carly’s not going to do anything that…would…get you arrested,” Elizabeth said. Then winced, remember what had happened earlier that year when Carly had accidentally had Jason briefly accused of kidnapping Michael.  “Not again, right?”

“Probably not on purpose, but Carly isn’t predictable. Let’s not—” Jason took out his phone as it rang in his pocket. He grimaced at whatever was showing up on the screen. “It’s Sonny. I have—I have to go.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth rubbed a finger against her lip and watched his eyes drop to her mouth. Feeling a bit bolstered by that, she decided not to get mad they couldn’t talk about it right now. It had still happened, and it wasn’t like they could forget it entirely.

Right?

“I’ll see you later, then,” she said.

“I’ll see you later.” Jason waited a minute, then walked past her, and with another look over his shoulder, left.

Wednesday, December 29, 1999

Kelly’s: Diner

Elizabeth hummed to herself as she refilled sugar canisters behind the counter and kept an eye on the door to Kelly’s, wondering if Jason would come by at closing like he used before the shooting. He knew she was working the closing shift because she had met her new guard, Francis, who had walked her to work from the studio that morning. She wasn’t sure how she felt about having a guard but it also wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

Bobbie smiled at her as she sat down with the evening’s receipts in her hand as well as the ledger for the diner. “You’re in a better mood than the last time I saw you.”

“Oh, well, that was at the Christmas Party,” Elizabeth reminded her as she finished the last canister and started to refill the ketchup. “Nikolas made things a little annoying for a while, but it’s starting to get better.”

Maybe if Jason came by, they’d go on a ride and he’d kiss her again. Or could she kiss him? She grinned to herself. It was so silly to think about something like, but she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt silly—

“I am so sorry,” Bobbie was saying when Elizabeth tuned back into the redhead. “That I didn’t realize earlier. I should have talked to Jason before.”

Elizabeth frowned, tipping her head. “Before?”

“Well, I suppose I didn’t know that Nikolas or Audrey had been by,” Bobbie continued, “or that they knew about Jason. I never imagined anyone would believe you and Jason were dating.”

Elizabeth’s stomach rolled slightly as she swallowed hard. “Well, Nikolas can be impulsive,” she said faintly.

“I know. But it wasn’t until the party when I realized that it would be a problem. It didn’t help that you left with Jason and Sonny,” Bobbie said with a shake of her head. “Everyone believed it then.”

“I was supposed to stay at the party with Nikolas and my grandmother? After he’d humiliated me?”

“Well, no, I suppose not. I guess I just wish I had anticipated how messy it would be. And it’s dying down, just like you said. I should have talked to Jason before the party, when I realized he was probably well enough to leave.” Bobbie smiled at her, a warm smile that still felt slightly wrong. “I feel guilty, Elizabeth. I should have seen that you were getting a bit of a crush.”

“A crush,” Elizabeth repeated. “I—”

“When I realized it, I went over to talk to Jason, and he realized it was awkward, too—”

Oh God. “Did you—” Elizabeth swallowed, horrified. “Did you tell him I had a crush on him?”

“Of course not, sweetheart.” Bobbie squeezed Elizabeth’s chilled hand. “I would never do something like that. I just told him it wasn’t a good idea for you to be known as Jason Morgan’s girlfriend, and he agreed.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes. “You did this the day after Christmas.” The day Jason had seemed fine with her, and then had abruptly left the studio and not called her or spoken to her for nearly twenty-four hours.

“Yes. It’s all right, Elizabeth. Jason’s a good man, and I can see how you could get your head turned a bit. With you at college, you’ll meet someone who will make you forget all about this little crush.” Bobbie beamed at her, then looked down at the receipts. “Oh, damn, I forgot to carry the one.”

“I need to go—” Elizabeth forced a smile. “I need to go in the back for a minute.”

Leaving the smiling woman at the counter, Elizabeth ignored DJ behind the stove and went over to the walk fridge.

“Lizzie, don’t go falling asleep in there—”

Elizabeth turned to him, her hand on the metal handle of the door with a sigh. “DJ, what was after locusts again?”

“Darkness, Lizzie,” the cook offered. “But I told you, you don’t want to be tempting none of that.”

“Maybe I do,” she muttered and went inside to let the cold air hit her cheeks and force some common sense into her silly little brain.

Kelly’s: Courtyard

Jason shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling strangely anxious as he walked towards the double doors of the diner, seeing the closed sign on the door. He knew she was still there—he’d called the new guard just to make sure.

But he couldn’t see her inside the diner, only saw Bobbie talking to Francis and putting on her coat. A moment later, the redhead emerged and smiled at him. “Jason! We’re closed. I just sent DJ home—”

“I’m here to pick Elizabeth up,” Jason said. “She’s still here, right?”

“Oh, she’s in the back with that guard you sent her. I guess you’re more worried about those rumors than I thought.” Bobbie hitched the strap of her purse higher on her shoulder. “I’m not sure this is a good idea,” she told him.

Jason frowned, shook his head. “What’s not a good idea?”

“Spending all this time with Elizabeth, alone,” Bobbie said, stressing the last word. “I mean, we talked about this, didn’t we? Elizabeth didn’t need a reputation that isn’t true, and well—” Bobbie pursed her lips. “I really shouldn’t say anything, but you’re a nice man. And you don’t want to hurt her feelings.”

Baffled, Jason shook his head again. “No, I don’t—”

“She has a bit of a crush on you,” Bobbie told him. “Now, she knows it’s not going anywhere. She and I talked about it—she knows we talked after Christmas, but I think—”

Jason put a hand up. “Bobbie,” he said, cutting her off. “What do you mean, Elizabeth knows it’s not going anywhere?”

Bobbie pursed her lips, squinted her eyes. “Well, I told her what we talked about after the party. About how you agreed she didn’t need to be known as your girlfriend—”

For the life of him, he would never, ever understand women. “Bobbie, did you tell Elizabeth that I don’t have feelings for her?”

A bit taken aback, Bobbie hesitated. “Not in those words, exactly,” she said, drawing the words slowly, “but I’d be surprised if she didn’t take that view.” Her mouth formed a little circle. “Oh. Oh, dear. I was trying to help, but—”

“But you did the exact opposite,” Jason muttered, dragging his hand over his face. First all the dumb customers in her face about how she wasn’t his type, and the idiot warehouse workers, and Nikolas and her grandmother—the cops—

Not to mention Jason couldn’t have handled any of this worse than he had.

Now Bobbie was trying to help.

“Jason, are you telling me you’re interested in Elizabeth?” Bobbie asked skeptically. “She’s eighteen—”

“And technically I’m twenty-five,” he bit out. “I know that. But I don’t exactly remember all twenty-five of those years, do I? Why does that matter?”

“Well, I hadn’t thought of it that way,” Bobbie said. “And she’s been through more in the last two years than most adults deal with in a life time.” She sighed. “I’m sorry. I just—I love her so much. I want her to be happy. I just don’t see how this—I mean, can you imagine what Carly is going to do?”

He didn’t have to imagine—he knew exactly what Carly would do if Jason publicly showed interest in another woman. “It’s my life, Bobbie. And it’s Elizabeth’s choice. Not anyone else’s.”

“Of course, of course. Well, she’s in the back. I’m sorry,” Bobbie said again, but Jason ignored her and went into the diner.

Kelly’s: Kitchen

Elizabeth emerged from the pantry, the last of her closing responsibilities completed and walked out into the front of the dinner—stopping when she saw that Francis was gone and Jason was standing at the counter. “Oh.” Nervous, she tucked her hair behind her ear. “I wasn’t sure if you—”

“I thought you might want a ride home,” Jason said. He paused. “If that’s okay.”

“Sure. Um—”

“I parked the bike in the alley.” He gestured towards the back of the diner. “I’ll get the lights and the door.”

“Okay.” Flustered and not really sure she was comfortable with any of this, Elizabeth went behind the counter to get her purse and coat. Jason flipped the locks and turned off the light.

In the alley, Jason went out first, and Elizabeth followed letting the heavy security door fall shut. She started towards the bike, but then he turned to her and Elizabeth barely had a minute to register what was happening before his mouth was on hers and she was pressed against him, his hands in her hair.

Elizabeth’s purse dropped to the ground and her arms went around his neck. She leaned up on the tips of her toes, returning his kiss with everything she could manage in her limited experience.

“I’ve been thinking about that all day,” he murmured as he drew back. Her eyes fluttered open and she stared at him, not really trusting her own ears. “Since yesterday. Longer.”

“Really?” Elizabeth said, a bit breathless, her heart pounding. “You’re not…” She licked her lips. “But Bobbie—”

“She was wrong.” He dipped his head to kiss her again and Elizabeth decided not to argue anymore.

Written in 59 minutes. No time for spell check. Forgive any issues with the ending. Dad called as I was writing the kiss, and even though I ignored his call, it was right next to my computer, and my brain got very confused, then there was no time to fix it.

---

December 30, 1999

Kelly’s: Parking Lot

Carly scowled as her keys slid out of her hand and dropped with a clink to the ground. She started to crouch down to retrieve them but her foot slid out from under her, kicking the keys under the car. Wincing, she glared at the glint of silver mocking her from just out of reach. “Fine,” she hissed to the world.

She got to her feet, determined to go into the diner and force someone to get her damn keys for her. She was a Quartermaine now—she wasn’t supposed to be rolling around on the ground like a nobody.

Carly hitched her purse over her shoulder and started towards Kelly’s, but the roar of a familiar motorcycle stopped her in her tracks and she grinned. Jason might be angry at her, but she knew she’d talk him down eventually and he wouldn’t leave her in the lurch. She turned to the street, waiting for his bike to turn into the lot—but it sped right past her, around the corner of the diner, towards the alley—and someone was riding with Jason, her arms wrapped him, frizzy brown hair peeking out from underneath the helmet.

She growled and stalked towards the alley, determined to put a stop to this once and for all. Jason needed to stop playing in the playpen and concentrate on what was important — getting her out of her marriage. That was the only reason he was getting distracted by that child—he was bored—

Carly heard the motorcycle’s engine switch off, so she stopped at the corner, waiting for Elizabeth to go inside—

Only to see the little brat hand him the helmet and say something to him that Carly couldn’t make out from where she was standing. Jason grinned—her eyes narrowed—she knew that particular smile, the jerk—

Then she stared as Jason put his arm around Elizabeth’s waist, pulling her against him and kissing her. Not on the cheek. Not on the forehead. But on the mouth—and clearly not for the first time the way the little bitch curled up against Jason and all but climbed into his lap—she might as well straddle him on the bike, Carly thought bitterly.

“I’ll see you at closing?” she heard Jason asked, Elizabeth nodding and smiling at him. She waved and went inside. Jason watched her go, and Carly was not at all happy about the way he was smiling.

It looked like she was going to have to remind him who came first around here.

Kelly’s: Diner

Elizabeth smiled sunnily at DJ who just squinted at her, since the last time the cook had seen her, she’d tried to freeze herself into feeling nothing the night before.

“You look better, Lizzie,” DJ said. He flipped a pancake. “You pulling another double?”

“Mmm, until break is over in January, I took all the hours Bobbie would give me,” she said, hanging up her jacket and purse. “You, too?”

“If I let anyone else make the chili,” the cook said with a sigh, “we’d go out of business. Miss Ruby said no one ever made it like me.”

Elizabeth smiled wistfully, remembering the owner of the diner who had passed away earlier that year. Ruby Anderson had taken a chance on Elizabeth even though she was the worst waitress ever, and the tough as nails woman had had always had a soft spot for her. “Without you, this place would have fallen apart,” she told him, then went out to start her shift.

A few hours later, as she was finishing the first half of the lunch rush and gearing up for the late lunch shift workers from the docks, she noticed Bobbie coming in, smiling at Penny who was handling half the diner that day.

Elizabeth went behind the counter to check on the carafes of coffee, trying to avoid the redhead’s notice. She was grateful that Bobbie had been wrong the night before, but part of her couldn’t quite shake the notion that Bobbie knew Jason better than Elizabeth did. Had Bobbie said something to Jason? She knew she should just trust Jason—he said what he meant, and wouldn’t lie to her.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t also have a deep streak of kindness—but maybe that was just her insecurity again, Elizabeth decided. She was listening too much to the people around her who said she’d never be Jason’s type, but he didn’t kiss her like she wasn’t his type—

Except he wouldn’t just want to kiss her. That thought had slid into her head like an assasin somewhere between the third and fourth pots of chili, and Elizabeth knew the topic of sex would come up faster with Jason than it had with Lucky. It hadn’t really ever come up with Lucky, except just that once and she knew Jason wouldn’t pressure her but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t get bored—

“You look like you’re trying to figure out peace in the Middle East,” Bobbie said with a smile as she came around the corner to pour herself a cup of coffee.

Elizabeth smiled tightly. “I didn’t pay a lot of attention in history,” she said, “but even I know that’s probably not going to happen.” She cast her eyes over the diner, wincing when she saw her last customer leave—Penny’s section still had a handful of diners, but Elizabeth was done for the moment.

“I’m sorry,” Bobbie said. “About last night. I really shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Bobbie—”

“No—” Bobbie put a hand on Elizabeth’s arm. “You’re part of my family, the way that Jason is,” she added. “And I suppose I never saw it coming because in my head—” she sighed. “In my head, it’s still supposed to be Lucky.”

Elizabeth’s throat tightened and she stared blindly at the counter. “And it’s supposed to be Carly for Jason,” she muttered.

“No—well—” Bobbie pressed her lips together. “Yes, I guess maybe. Which sounds terrible since she’s married, but—”

“But you thought Jason would get her out of the marriage with Michael and they’d be a family.” Elizabeth folded her arms, picking at a loose thread in her sleeve.

“I did,” the other woman admitted. “But that’s selfish of me because Jason is a good man who deserves to be happy. And he was right—he gets to make that choice.”

“You talked to him?” Elizabeth asked, frowning. Oh, God, what had she said—

“Nothing, except that I had heard he’d moved out and was glad. He was very annoyed with me, worried I might have given you the wrong idea about how he felt,” Bobbie added. “I realize now that I heard what I wanted to hear. What I expected to hear.”

“Because Jason and I don’t go together,” Elizabeth finished when Bobbie said nothing else. “We don’t fit. I know that.”

“Elizabeth—” Bobbie tilted her head to the side. “You know, I might have agreed even a week ago, but I think I just didn’t see how much you’ve grown up. You’ve been through so much, baby. I wish I could protect you from the world, but I can’t. And Jason absolutely deserves to be happy. He shouldn’t be cleaning up after my daughter or Sonny for the rest of his life. You’re both young enough to take a risk.”

Elizabeth frowned. “You don’t look like you believe what you just said.”

“It’s not that. Just because Jason is ready to let go of the last year—”

“That doesn’t mean Carly is.” Elizabeth bit her lip. And part of her wondered if Jason really was ready to move on from Carly. He’d been tangled up with her for years—had been rushing to her rescue barely two months ago. She was supposed to think that a few months of being around Elizabeth would change that?

“Just be careful,” Bobbie cautioned. “Carly can do quite a bit of damage, even when she’s not aiming directly at you.”

Corinthos Penthouse: Hallway

 

Jason nodded at Johnny on the door. “He wanted to see me?”

“Yeah,” the guard said, shoving the door open. “Yo, Mr. C. Jason is here—”

“Good, good.” Sonny waved him in and Jason reluctantly stepped over the threshold, avoiding the other man’s eyes. Was it always going to be this way? When Robin had hurt him, she’d left town and it had been easier to get over it. To find some understanding, even regret for how everything had worked out.

But Sonny and Carly were always in his face—even if Sonny wasn’t demanding forgiveness the way Carly was—Jason was finding it harder than he thought to face the whole thing. He’d stayed too long in the studio—had hoped by the time he’d left, his brain would have let it all go. But it just wasn’t.

“I heard from my guy at the PCPD,” Sonny said. “You didn’t tell me Taggert had already gone after Elizabeth. He got a search warrant?”

“Nothing to tell.” Jason looked at Sonny’s forehead. It was easier than meeting his eyes. He didn’t know what he’d find there or if he even wanted to know. “Elizabeth handled it and he walked away. Taggert knows there’s nothing in the studio. He wanted to scare her.”

“She doesn’t scare easy,” Sonny said, folding his arms. “This isn’t going away—”

“I’m meeting with Justus tomorrow,” Jason said. “He’ll take care of it. Taggert can’t prove anything and Elizabeth can talk circles around him.” He smiled then, not realizing it, remembering the frustrated bafflement in the other man’s eyes as Elizabeth had efficiently demanded the search warrant and located an error, forcing him to back down. She was tough than she looked.

“I know that,” Sonny said. “I’m pretty intimidating when I want to be, but ever time I tried to turn it on her to get you out of the studio, she just—” He shrugged. “Either ignored me or talked me around until I was agreeing with her.” He paused. “But the PCPD is still coming after you for Moreno—”

“They can do whatever they want,” Jason replied. “As long as Elizabeth is out of it.”

“She’s not giving an alibi?” Sonny asked. “I thought she’d want to—”

“I don’t think she’d refuse,” Jason said slowly, hating that he even had to have this conversation, but Sonny’s business depended on keeping people out of jail so he, at least, had a right to know whether or not Jason was about to be arrested. “But I don’t want her to lie for me.”

“If it comes down to proving you were somewhere else—”

“Carly knows I wasn’t with Elizabeth,” Jason told Sonny with a shake of his head. “So—”

“Actually—” Sonny winced. “She does know. She saw you dancing with Elizabeth. At Kelly’s.” At Jason’s scowl, he sighed. “That’s why she was here,” he said. “She wanted to know how long that was going on. And I probably—” He hissed. “I egged her on. Didn’t tell it was probably innocent.” Sonny eyed him. “Whether or not it would be now—”

“It’s none of her business what I do,” Jason said, stiffly. “She married AJ. She made her choice. I’m making mine.”

“Okay,” Sonny drawled, waiting as if Jason would volunteer more but there was no way Jason was giving Sonny any more information about his life. Not when Sonny seemed to doubt the way Jason ran his life. He’d wanted to take Carly out of his life, so he’d taken her. Jason didn’t  want to know what Sonny might try if he didn’t want Elizabeth around.

No one going to take her away from him, unless Elizabeth didn’t want him anymore.

“Carly knows you were with Elizabeth that night. She doesn’t know exactly when you got shot. So if Elizabeth gave an alibi—”

“I’m not asking her to lie for me,” Jason cut in. “And that’s the end of it.”

Kelly’s: Diner

“So, really,” Elizabeth said to Francis as he stacked another set of chairs on a table as she mopped one half of the diner. “You just sit all day and watch me work? That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Francis said. “Mostly—” he hesitated.

“Mostly it’s to make sure the warehouse guys know I’m being protected,” Elizabeth said with a half smile. “I’m not an idiot. I told Jason about Sorel’s guys, and you showed up the next day.”

“That might be part of it,” the guard said, with a shrug. “Mr. C also likes you. Said you were top priority.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth wasn’t sure if she’d ever thought about being the top priority to a man who was a notorious gangster, but nothing in her life had gone the way she’d planned since she’d moved to Port Charles. In fact, dating the number two guy in the local mob and needing a guard was probably the least traumatic experience she’d had so far. “Well, that’s probably a good place to be if someone has to be on a list.”

“It’s not bad.”

The bell over the door jingled as Jason opened it, nodding to Francis. “Hey.” He glanced at Elizabeth. “Can I—”

“Sorel’s guys sat in Penny’s section,” Elizabeth said as she moved the mop over to the section where Francis had stacked the chair. “They said nothing, just like yesterday.”

Jason winced, then tipped his head to the guard.

“Night, Miss Webber,” Francis said as he took his coat from the rack and put it on. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow, Mr. Corelli.”

Francis flashed a grin as he left and Jason made a face as Elizabeth finished mopping the diner. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to sound like he was reporting back to me—”

“It’s his job,” Elizabeth said with a shrug. She picked up the bucket, waving him off. “I let Francis stack the chairs because I couldn’t stop him,” she said as she went into the kitchen to dump it. “I don’t mind closing and cleaning up. Bobbie pays extra.”

Something was off, Jason realized as he watched Elizabeth efficiently finish all the tasks and put on her coat. “Are you okay?”

“Me?” Elizabeth hesitated, then looked at him. “Yeah. It’s just—” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s silly, but I guess I’m still—this is weird, right?” She met his eyes. “A few days ago, we were something else. And now, we’re—whatever. And it’s just—” She bit her lip, then leaned up to kiss him, blushing furiously as she stepped back. “I’m allowed to do that now and not just think about it.”

Jason returned her grin, swallowing her smile as he kissed her again, letting himself push everything else away. He sucked in her bottom lip into his mouth, soothing the nicks she’d caused by biting it.  “I know,” he murmured, as he drew back. He wound one of her curls around his finger. “But I like it.”

“Me, too.” She smiled again, slid her hand in his, and then they left to take the cliff roads.

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

---

December 31, 1999

Studio: Hallway

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ugh, you sound like Gram—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kelly’s: Kitchen

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

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

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

“Lizzie, you good?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What step—” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely. Why wouldn’t he?”

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

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

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

“Uh, you’re welcome?”

Elm Street Pier

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

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

“There’s nothing I need from you—”

“You sure about that?”

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

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

“I’m going—”

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

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

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

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

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

“Bobbie could lose her license—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re never going to forgive me—”

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

“You loved me—you said you did!”

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

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

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

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

What the hell was he going to do?

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

Written in 63 minutes.

---

December 31, 1999

Corinthos-Morgan Warehouse: Office

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

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

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

“Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

Alexis pursed her lips. “Okay.”

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

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

“Not from her,” Jason said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jason squinted. “I don’t understand—”

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

“Alexis—”

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

Jason just stared at her. “Alexis—”

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

“Just— Jason put up a hand. “Listen—”

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

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

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

“Uh, thanks—”

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

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

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

Kelly’s: Diner

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I doubt that—”

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

“Just the one?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sympathetic—” Elizabeth choked out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She had another call to make.

Elm Street Pier

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

“Hey.”

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

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

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

“Elizabeth, what’s wrong?”

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

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

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

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

Studio

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

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

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

Stupid to think that Carly wasn’t right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Written in 61 minutes.

---

Studio: Back Alley

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

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

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

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

They had not been there that morning.

Studio

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

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

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

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

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

“Elizabeth—”

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

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

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

“What—”

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

“Elizabeth—”

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

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

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

Alley

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

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

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

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

Studio

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Elm Street Pier

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing—”

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

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

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

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

Harborview Towers: Hallway

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

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

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

“Sonny—” Jason began.

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

Sonny hissed. “He was watching you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jason.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know all of that,” Jason retorted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Carly,” he muttered. “I knew it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We need figure it out, Elizabeth—”

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

 

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

---

December 31, 1999

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

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

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

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

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

“I won’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I mean technically—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, but—”

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

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

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

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

“What is?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. Yeah. The guys already looked?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe he should just take the sofa after all.

January 1, 2000

Morgan Penthouse: Bedroom

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fragile and damaged her ass.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe this would work after all.

Written in 66 minutes.

---

January 1, 1999

Corinthos Penthouse: Living Room

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

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

“Yeah, but—”

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

Jason scowled. “He told Elizabeth it was—”

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

“Sonny—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Carly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sonny—”

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

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

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

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

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

“Jason—”

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

“No, I know—” Sonny closed his mouth.

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

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

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

Quartermaine Mansion: Bathroom

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

She hadn’t heard a word from Jason.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was January 1.

And she was late.

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

Kelly’s: Kitchen

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But they’ll go after you—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait—”

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

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

“I won’t be here to go on trial.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not—”

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

“Elizabeth—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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