Written in 63 minutes.

---

March 2000

Another bikini top flew out of the closet, landing on top of Elizabeth’s sketch pad. “How many of these do you own?” she asked, sticking her pencil under the strap and flinging it across the room to Emily’s bed. “You know we’re only going for six days, right?”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to do any laundry while we’re there—” Emily emerged from the closet, another pile of clothing in her arms. She dumped it on her bed. “And it’s supposed to be, like, boiling hot down there this week. I think we need to go shopping again.”

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “We went shopping twice. I’ve been packed for two days. You’re making this more difficult than it needs to be.” She returned to her sketch, the tip of her tongue darting out as she reconsidered the height of the Ferris wheel. She didn’t think it was so high above the buildings — it was just an abandoned carnival ride rusting in a junkyard by the docks. Maybe—

“But we’re not going to be at Jason’s place the whole time,” Emily reminded her. She flicked through the dress options. “We said we were going to hop a few bars, and hit that really swanky restaurant at the resort. Jason said he’d hook us up with VIP access for everything— don’t make that face. You agreed.”

“I just don’t like how little I’ve spent on the trip, that’s all, but you don’t know how to take no for an answer.” Elizabeth set her sketch pad aside. “Take the blue dress for the restaurant. Don’t wear the purple for the bars. It’s cut too low. In fact—” She leaned over, scooped up the purple tank. “I think this should be mine—”

“Ha—” Emily snatched it back. “You’re lucky. You’re all petite and curvy. I’m like a giant stick—nothing hangs off me right—”

“One of us was a model, and one of us has stubby legs. And curvy—I think you need to get your eyes checked.” Elizabeth got to her feet, turned to the side to examine her figure in the side mirror. “I mean, I’d describe it more as speed bumps in the right places.”

“Please. Here—” Emily disappeared behind the closet door and tossed something at Elizabeth. “You’d look better in this than me.”

“The tube top? No thanks—” Elizabeth flung it back. “Listen. I was talking to Nikolas at work today, and he said Lucky’s been trying to get in touch with you.”

“Yeah, I know. I hear his voice, then I delete the messages.” Emily started to sort through the piles on the bed again. “You’re allowed to delete his messages, why can’t I?”

“I broke up with him. I didn’t want you or Nikolas in the middle of it. It’s okay with me if you want to be friends.” Elizabeth closed her sketch pad, brought it to her desk, then turned and leaned against it. “Really, Em. He’s one of your oldest friends—”

“Sure. But you’re my best friend. And that matters. Lucky made his bed, and he gets to lie in it. Besides—” Emily shrugged, even though her excitement had dimmed slightly. “He brought my brother into it when all Jason tried to do was be nice. You know I don’t play about my brother. Lucky crossed a line. He wants to get back on the right side of it, he’s going to have to work on it. Apologizing to you and meaning it would be a great start. You didn’t put me in the middle, Liz. I put myself there.” She lifted one brow. “No regrets, okay? So don’t worry.”

“Just strange, I guess. It’s been…God, almost a month. For so long, all my waking thoughts were about Lucky, and now…I don’t know. Feels weird not to think about him. You know?”

“Yeah, I know. When we come back from break, I’m going to get Juan to see if one of the guys in his dorms would be willing to do a blind date. We need to get you back out there—”

“No, thanks.” Elizabeth reached for the fluorescent pink tube top that still laid on Emily’s bed. “You really think this would look better on me?”

“One hundred percent.” Emily lit up. “Let’s have a fashion show, and we can pick out everything I should take—”

“You’re never going to finish packing, are you?”

——

On the other side of Port Charles, closer to the harbor, the topic of Emily and Elizabeth’s trip to the island was on someone else’s mind.

“I know it’s short notice,” Sonny said, pouring himself a tumbler of bourbon. He offered one to Jason, who just shook his head. “But you mentioned the trip the other day, and it got me thinking. This is a good opportunity to check on the casino in Puerto Rico, and then you could go to the island, stop in at the resort. You know, do a quick run. Neither of us have done it in a few months.”

“You want me to tag along on my sister’s trip?” Jason asked skeptically. “The whole reason I offered my place was because I wasn’t going to be there—”

“You won’t. You can fly them down there, stay a day and do the run at the island. Puerto Rico is what’s worrying me. Diego thinks there’s some trouble on the pit floor, and he wanted a fresh eye. You’d be there most of the week. Then, you know, head back, scoop up the girls, and come home.”

Jason just made a face. “Why can’t it wait?”

“You’d rather they fly commercial?” Sonny asked. He sipped his drink. “This way, you take the jet. They get a better experience, and you know, they go through security with you. You really want your sister going through the Miami airport on her own?”

“She’s not twelve, Sonny. And Elizabeth’s with her. They’ll get to the island in one piece. I’ll go in a few weeks—” Jason hesitated. “Is there a reason you want me out of town this week?”

Sonny pursed his lips. “Maybe I wanna give you a little bit of cover. Johnny’s handling something at the Oasis, and you’d be the first person Taggert goes after. You’re out of town, shepherding your sister on her Spring Break trip, it’s good for you. And Taggert doesn’t know Johnny exists.”

Jason sighed. “You should have just said that. I’ll call Emily and let her know.”

—

“How long were you planning to be gone?” Jason asked, lifting the fourth suitcase from the back of the car and setting it on the luggage cart. His sister looked at him, wide-eyed. “Don’t make that face — it’s six days—”

“She doubled her suitcases when she found out we were taking the jet,” Elizabeth said dryly, stepping up behind Emily, looping the strap of her tote over her shoulder. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders, and Emily reached for a chunk of it to pull playfully. “Hey, I still have the same suitcase I packed—”

“I just wanted to options, okay? Plus, I had to bring extra for Liz, because, you know—her wardrobe is—well, it’s a little boring,” Emily said in hushed whisper. Liz elbowed her. “No, seriously, we’re traveling to the Caribbean, Liz, and you’re dressed like we’re going hiking.”

“You know, you’re insulting your brother. We’re wearing the exact same thing,” Elizabeth pointed out, gesturing at Jason in his jeans and blue shirt.

Jason eyed the blue tank top and denim cut off shorts paired with flip flops. “Not exactly,” he said, and she rolled her eyes.

“I’m comfortable, and that’s all that matters. Bite me, both of you.” Elizabeth let her sunglasses slid from the top of her head on to her eyes. “I’m gonna go stand over here while you guys continue to argue and hold up the line.”

Emily wrinkled her nose. “Is this a good time to tell you that I have another suitcase in the front seat?”

Jason squinted at her. “Is that a trick question?”

—

“I think I’m going to have to eat my words,” Elizabeth said, dropping into the seat next to Jason. “Emily’s mad at me, so she said I had to sit with you for take off.”

Jason glanced across the aisle to see Emily sticking her tongue out at both of them. “Is that a punishment for you or me?”

“Hard to tell,” Elizabeth said, buckling the belt across her lap, then reaching down into the bag she’d tucked between her legs. She pulled out a sketch pad and flipped it open. “Anyway, Emily wanted to ask you two weeks ago to use the jet and I told her no, but having flown before, it was so much nicer not dealing with other people at the gate. And these seats are much more comfortable.”

“You know, she’d do all of this anyway for herself. Why do you fight it so much?” Jason wanted to know, thumbing through the travel guide he’d brought him, trying to find the last page he’d read.

“Oh, well—” Elizabeth bit her lip, then glanced at him. “It’s like I said, I don’t like to ask for help. Or take gifts. Especially not anymore. You start letting people do things for you, and maybe you start to rely on it, you know? Like—” She paused. “My parents gave me money for the year they were going to be away. That’s all it was supposed to be. One year. Sarah came here with my grandmother, and I got left with the neighbors. I lasted exactly two months before I ditched it, spent all my money on a first class ticket to Port Charles. I figured my parents would just send me more money. It was the least they could do for abandoning me the entire year, you know?”

She started to shade something on her sketch pad. “And that’s how they liked to solve problems. Throw money at. Lizzie’s failing science? We’ll get her a tutor. Lizzie’s sleeping too much? We’ll get a fancy alarm clock. Lizzie’s ditching school? We’re hire a driver to take her to and from.” She sighed. “But then I got here, and I spent that money on the ticket, and my parents refused to send anymore. They told me that I had to grow up and start learning to take care of myself sometime. I had to get the job at Kelly’s and pay off the ticket. And there’d be no more allowance.”

Elizabeth jerked a shoulder. “And like, fine, whatever. Teach me responsibility all you want. But for four months, I didn’t have a single dime. Everything I made at Kelly’s went straight to Gram, and it sucked. Sarah didn’t have to pay for her plane ticket. And my parents sent her money. But I never got another dime from them. Not even when I graduated high school. They didn’t even bother to show up.” She looked at him. “That sounds like I’m whining, and maybe I am. But it just taught me that money doesn’t solve your problems. And it’s not the same thing as love. My parents gave me money so I’d leave them alone. After I came to Port Charles, well, they didn’t need to do that anymore. So they didn’t. I had to do it on my own. I didn’t really like it, but I guess it was a lesson worth learning.”

She flipped to another sketch in her pad. “And, well, Lucky thinks he saved me. He thinks he gets to take credit for helping me put my life back together. He thought that gave him some special ownership over me. Over that night. That’s why he did it, you know.” She met his eyes again. “Because he wanted to remind me of what he gave me. He thinks he gave me my life back. So I don’t like when people do things for me anymore. I don’t want to owe anyone. Or to let anyone feel like I do. They can’t call in debts I don’t run up in the first place. I never forget that Emily is a Quartermaine with a trust fund and all kinds of access to wealth and power through her family, and well, you. And I don’t forget who Nikolas is, either. They’re not going to think I’m their friend because of what they can do for me. Not if I don’t take advantage of them. Yeah, Emily might do all of this for herself, but at least this way, she knows I wasn’t expecting it. Or demanding it.”

Elizabeth stopped finally, then made a face. “Which is more than you wanted to know. Sorry. I tend to ramble if no one stops me. You should have cut me off.”

“Why? You weren’t done answering the question.”

She drew her brows together, confused. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean. And I don’t like when people do things for me, either,” Jason added. “I don’t like to owe people. You’re right. They think it gives them the right to boss you around or use you. It’s better to do things for yourself. To take care of yourself.”

“Exactly.” Elizabeth flipped to another page. “See, you get it.”

“I do. I also know that Emily’s generous by nature. And if she didn’t want to include you in these kinds of things, she wouldn’t. So maybe you don’t have to fight everything. Give her break, you know? It makes her happy to make other people happy. Let her do that.”

“Oh. Oh, that was sneaky.” Elizabeth smirked, then leaned back when the pilot came over the speaker to announce that they were taxiing to the runway, and preparing for takeoff.

—

With the jet, they didn’t need to do a layover in Miami, but could fly directly into the small airport on West Plana Cays, the island Sonny owed and on which he operated a small resort. There were also a handful of villages dotting along the eastern coast of the island.

At the airport, there was a cherry red convertible waiting for them. Jason fit as much of Emily’s luggage as he could — “this is why you don’t pack your entire closet,” he told her — and arranged for the rest to follow them in another car.

Elizabeth sat in the back, enjoying the ride across the island, letting the wind blow through her hair and the view of the Caribbean as they headed for the western coast, where Jason and Sonny and a few other private villas were located. It was kind of wild to think of one person owning all of this, she thought.

The villa they pulled up to wasn’t that large, but it was open and airy with one side of the house entirely open to the beach beyond the house. The water surrounded the house on two sides, and as soon as Emily got out of the car, she made a beeline for the water, kicking off her shoes. “Come on, Liz!” she called, turning halfway down the sand between the house and the shoreline.

“You go ahead,” Elizabeth called back. “I want to get unpacked and settled.” She turned back to Jason who was lifting the trunk of the car. “Here, I’ll take mine—”

“You can go down with her, you know. I can get this into the house—” Jason set two of Emily’s suitcases down, then Elizabeth’s single bag.

“I can carry one bag. Besides, you’ll need both hands for all of Emily’s things. You know she’s going to go shopping while we’re here and have like two more suitcases when you come back to get us.”

Jason made a face, looked down at the beach where Emily was halfway into the water now, her skirt bunched up in her hands. “I didn’t even think of that.” He sighed, unloaded the last suitcase, then closed the trunk. He held out the keys. “This is yours while you’re here. You and Emily’s,” he added. “Don’t crash it.”

Elizabeth hesitated. “I’ll hold on to them for Emily, but—”

“Look, you don’t like to owe people, right? Me either,” Jason added. “And the way I see it, I owe you more than I could ever repay.”

She furrowed her brow. “How do you figure that?”

Jason looked back to the water where his sister was still calf-deep. “She wasn’t like this before you.”

“Like—” Elizabeth paused. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t remember before the accident, but I know the story. She only came to us maybe less than a year before I lost my memory. She’d lost her mother, her home, her name, pretty much everything. And it’s not like the Quartermaines are an easy family to live with. She got lost,” Jason murmured. “You know about that. The drugs.”

“Yeah, but—”

“She kept getting knocked down, and you know, she’d get back up because that’s just who she is, but she’s laughing all the time now. Happy. Silly,” Jason said after a moment. “And that didn’t happen until you.” He met her eyes. “So, like I said, you’re not the one who owes anything. I can’t ever repay what you’ve given her.”

Her throat felt tight, and her eyes blurred. “I wasn’t like this before her either, you know. Whatever you think I’ve given her, I’ve gotten back a thousand times over. I finally understand what it’s like to have a sister. So we’re even.”

“Okay maybe, but—” Jason took her hand, opened her fingers and dropped the keys in the center of her palm. “Take the car anyway.”

Written in 61 minutes.

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March 2000

The island, which Elizabeth learned was actually called West Plana Cays, was a tiny dot in the southern part of the Bahamas. The resort was on the eastern side of the island, which had handful of villages and towns — nothing large enough to be called a city. Sonny owned the land, but had leased it back to the local governments. Emily explained it all over mimosas their first morning, but Elizabeth had immediately started to tune her out the way she had every history teacher in her entire academic life.

All that really mattered was that they could drive twenty minutes along the coast and have their pick off the resort amenities, head down to the largest town — called Pirates Well — or they could soak up all the sun on the private beach.

It was, Elizabeth thought, the closest she’d ever come to living in paradise.

The first few days, they kept close to the villa, catching up on sleep, drinking their mimosas with breakfast, margaritas with lunch, and wine at night, enjoying the high of drinking legally for the first time in their lives.

But halfway through the trip, Emily decided they needed to do this right — a day spent at the resort’s spa and a night bar hopping in Pirate’s Well.

“I mean, come on, Liz,” she’d said that morning, “how can do you do anything but drink some rum in Pirate’s Well? The name practically begs for it!”

And that was how they found themselves stumbling into their third bar of the night, already a little tipsy and loose. Emily had told Elizabeth over and over again that everyone knew she was Jason’s sister, so they were good to go, and Elizabeth wasn’t going to let anything stop her from enjoying her first real spring break.

The third bar didn’t look like it ran to margaritas or cocktails, so Elizabeth ordered two pints of whatever was on tap, then carried them to the table where Emily was picking at a bowl of pretzels. “You’re not really going to eat from that, are you?” Elizabeth wanted to know. She slid in the seat across the table.

“No, but I might take some of them back for an experiment. How many people do you think have touched these?” Emily picked up her beer, sipped it, then made a face. “Not my favorite, but since I won’t be legal for another year when we go home, I’m not going to complain.”

It was more like eighteen months, but Elizabeth wasn’t going to rain on Emily’s parade. “Did you touch base with Juan today, or—”

“Answering machine again.” Emily rested her chin on her fist. “What do you think that means? That neither of us are trying very hard to keep in touch?”

“I think it’s been five days,” Elizabeth pointed out. “And you see each other everyday, so what’s the problem?” She tipped her head. “Is there a problem?”

“I don’t know. I mean, maybe I’ve just read too many books or watched too many movies, but I feel like I’m just missing the oomph. You know? That something special.”

“Sometimes that ends up being a lie,” Elizabeth muttered. She took a long pull from the bottle. “I thought Lucky was the answer to everything, you know? I felt that something special with him, but maybe it was never there.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, maybe I thought after everything we’d been through that I’d never trust another man—but I don’t even know. It sometimes feels like there was something missing with Lucky, too. We dated for over a year, and I never felt—” Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “You know. That urge. That feeling.”

“Oh, you mean sex.” Emily nodded sagely. “Yeah, I totally get you. I’ve wanted to jump Juan almost since we met, and then you know, a few weeks ago, we went for it.” She made a face. “It was not what I expected. It got better, but I still feel like there’s something not…I don’t know.”

“I never wanted to jump Lucky,” Elizabeth said, almost wistfully. “You think maybe that part of me is just dead? Lucky never pressured me, but I never felt the pressure either—but maybe I never will.”

“Or maybe you’re just putting yourself out there. We should go to more parties. Lucky’s not the only guy in the world. There are amazing guys who can be trusted, you know that.” Emily shrugged. “Take my brother, example — he’s literally the best.”

“Oh, well, if we’re going to talk about guys who aren’t available,” Elizabeth said, flicking a pretzel at her. “Let’s keep going into fantasy land. Brad Pitt. Joshua Jackson—”

Emily lifted her brows, tipped the beer towards her. “Oh, you’re putting my brother in the same league as Joshua Jackson? That is very interesting. What did you talk about for the whole flight anyway?”

Her cheeks were heated for some stupid reason, and Elizabeth looked away. “Nothing.”

“Come on, you can tell me. You think my brother’s cute, don’t you?”

“We are not having this conversation. Let’s talk about you and Juan some more—”

“If the answer was no, you’d say that.” Emily’s eyes were lit up with pure amusement. “I bet you wouldn’t mind jumping Jason—”

“You have lost your mind—”

A chair slid next to them, and a man sat down, straddling it backwards. “Hello, ladies,” he said, a dimple winking in his cheek. His smile was friendly enough, but there was something in his eyes that had Elizabeth’s own smile fading. “I couldn’t help but overhearing your conversation. You know, I’d be willing to help you out. Show you a good time.”

—

Listen, Jase. Don’t worry. Your sister’s fine. But you need to get over here as soon as possible.

 

The short, terse phone call with the local deputy in Pirate’s Well was all Jason could think about during the ninety minutes of flight time between Puerto Rico and the island. Knowing she was safe didn’t really stop him from worrying — he knew exactly how much trouble Emily could get into when she had a mind to. He’d just figured Elizabeth would be a calming influence on her —

He landed at the airport, got into the waiting Jeep, and headed into the largest town on the island. Pirate’s Well was a tourist trap most of the time, and its downtown was nothing more  than a long strip of bars, tacky gift ships, and restaurants. The local police station was at the end of Queen’s Highway. It wasn’t much of a building — just a large box of concrete set back off the road.

Jason stepped inside, and saw Emily first. She popped off the wooden bench behind the counter, her eye makeup smudged and her hair tousled. The thin strap of the tank top she wore was ripped. “Jason, thank God, you’re here. You need to get this fixed, okay? Because this isn’t Elizabeth’s fault—”

“Elizabeth—” Jason frowned. “Where is she?” His heart picked up a beat. “Is she hurt?” They’d only talked about Emily on the phone, he realized. “Where—”

A door open down the short hallway, and Elizabeth emerged, holding an ice pack against her bottom lip. Jason’s hands fisted at his side. Unlike Emily, it was clear Elizabeth had actually been in a fight. Her curls were hanging limply around her face from the humidity, and there was a rip in the bright pink tube top she wore over a pair of black denim cut off shorts.

When she saw him, the ice pack slid from her hand just enough for him to see the bruise flowering on her cheek and the split lip. “Oh. You’re here.”

“I told you he’d come,” Emily said. “You’re in for it now,” she told the cop who still had an arm around Elizabeth’s upper arm. “My brother is going to—”

“Emily,” Jason cut in. She looked at him with those wide doe eyes. “Let’s just—”

“She didn’t have a choice, okay? She had to slug the guy! And when he hit her back, what was I supposed to do? You didn’t—”

“Way to throw me under the bus, asshole,” Elizabeth muttered, then winced at the pain. She pressed the ice against her mouth.

Jason exhaled, stepped behind the counter. “Marco,” he said. “Let’s talk, okay? She’s not going anywhere.”

“Stay right here,” the cop told Elizabeth, releasing her and gesturing towards the bench. “I don’t have time to chase after trashy American tourists—”

“I wouldn’t say anything else if I were you,” Jason said, and the cop looked at him, his brows raised. “Let’s talk,” he repeated.

He looked at his sister as Elizabeth reluctantly sat next to her. “Don’t say another word to anyone. I’ll be right back.”

“Sorry,” Marco said as they headed towards the back office. “I didn’t know the hot brunette was yours—”

“Tell me what the hell is going on.”

—

Elizabeth had thought she’d hit rock bottom when Jason had appeared in the doorway of the police station, but no, apparently there was another level because as soon as they’d arrived back at the villa, Emily had called dibs on the only shower in the house.

“I know, I know,” her best friend said when Elizabeth shot her a nasty look. “But you dove on the other guy. I ended up on the bar floor, and it’s nasty down there.”

“The next time I take a vacation, you’re not going on it,” Elizabeth called after Emily, but her friend had already disappeared down the hallway. She looked back at Jason whose irritation continued to radiate, from the clench of his jaw, to the tense set of his shoulders, and the cold expression in his eyes.

“She’s just being dramatic. No one dove anywhere, and she tripped on her own feet,” Elizabeth said, tugging at the bottom of her top, though she really wanted to yank the top of it up to her collar bone. “Um, I’m sorry—”

“Give me this,” Jason said, taking the melted pack from her hand. He dumped it in the trash can, went to the freezer and found another pack.

“Um, thanks. I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to get Emily involved in any of this. I’m usually the one holding her back.” She winced when she settled the ice against her mouth. “I’m know you’re pissed we messed up your trip and you had to get us out of jail—”

“They never should have taken you in,” Jason said shortly. “They know who Emily is, and you’re with her. That’s all they needed. But you punched the mayor’s kid, so—” He went back to the fridge, sighed when there wasn’t anything other than alcohol inside. He found the bottle of tequila. “Emily starting a bar fight, sure. But you?”

“I don’t know if I technically started it,” Elizabeth muttered. She sat at the island, watched him pour himself a shot. “And I didn’t mean to punch him that hard. And it’s not like it was much more after that. I slugged him, and he backhanded me. Emily got pissed and went after him, but tripped — she took the table down with her, and then—” She made a face. “I guess maybe I’m lucky all I got was a backhand.”

Jason set the shot glass down with a hard thud. “Why did you hit him?”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “What?”

“You hit the guy first, Elizabeth. Why?”

She shook her head, went towards the sofa. “It’s not a big deal. Em and I were talking, and he made a comment, and it just kind of spiraled form there.” She curled up on the sofa, hoping he’d drop it. Please, please drop it.

“Normally, I wouldn’t care,” Jason said, and his voice was closer now. She looked up and he sat down, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his thighs. “But I had to call in a favor. He was going to hold you on assault charges. Do you have any idea how complicated an international felony case would be?”

“I—” Elizabeth exhaled slowly, some of the fight draining out of her. “Emily and I were talking about relationships,” she said. “And…he overheard us. It’s embarassing, okay?” she managed, staring down at the chipped polish on her free hand. “I drank a little too much, and Emily and I were talking about how I never—I don’t know there’s going to be anyone else I trust  to be with, you know, and she was teasing me—and he sat down and he said he’d show us a good time.”

“And you punched him for that?”

“No,” Elizabeth drawled. “I punched him because he wouldn’t go away when we asked. We stood up to go, and he grabbed my arm—”

Jason sat up, looked at her. “He put his hands on you.”

“Y-Yes.” She swallowed hard. She dropped the ice pack into her lap. “He stopped me from leaving. Told me I was asking for someone to give it to me rough.” Her voice wobbled slightly. “I wasn’t. And no one’s ever going to touch me again. So I punched him. And when he backhanded me, I kicked him in the balls, and that’s when Emily tripped trying to help. So if you want to be mad—”

“I’m—” He dragged a hand down the side of his face. “I’m not mad. I’m sorry—you didn’t tell Marco that—”

“I didn’t want to get into it. I was afraid he’d say something like why didn’t you find another way to get him to go away? I could have laughed or pulled away, but I just—I reacted. I’m sorry. Emily could have been hurt, and I wasn’t thinking about her—”

“I’m not worried about her—” Jason stopped. “I mean, I’m always going to worry about her. But you—” He touched her chin, tipping her head to the side so that he could look at it. “I’m sorry. That you had to go through that. You should have been safe here.”

“I’m—” Elizabeth couldn’t quite form another word. Her brain had mostly clicked off when his fingers had brushed across her skin. She opened her mouth to try again, and his thumb slipped, brushing across her bottom lip, sending a cascade of shivers down her spine, her stomach fluttering wildly. Their eyes met—

And he didn’t move his hand.

All the nerve endings in her body were standing on end, and that was so weird, wasn’t it? The whole world had narrowed down to this moment, to Jason sitting awfully close to her, now that she thought about it, and there was nothing but the sound of waves crashing at the beach, and it was just his eyes and his skin touching hers—

And then the shower clicked off, and Jason jerked his hand away. Elizabeth practically flew to her feet. “Emily will be out soon,” she said, not sure why her voice sounded so breathy. “I need—I need a shower. Thanks for—thanks.”

And she fled.

Written in 57 minutes.

---

March 2000

 

“What did we learn?”

Emily, hunched over the counter, her head pillowed on her hands, groaned. “Don’t talk. The sun hurts.”

“Those two things aren’t related.” Jason set out a cup of black coffee and tapped the top of her black sunglasses. “And if you need to wear these inside, you drank too much.”

“You used to start bar fights all the time,” his sister grumbled. She sighed, then straightened and wrinkled her nose. “No cream? No sugar? Am I in prison?”

“No. You need the shock to the system.” Jason went back to the coffee pot. “Drink.”

“Ugh.” She forced down the first sip. “Sorry if we messed up whatever you were doing over in Puerto Rico.”

“It’s fine.” He sipped his own coffee, accustomed to the bitter taste. “I’ve got something to take care of here, but I’ll get out of your hair tomorrow and be back on Sunday—”

“No, no. I mean, if you have to go back, that’s cool, and all, but you don’t have to, like, rush away. Unless you can’t wait to be rid of us. I mean, I’m barely useful, and I think—” Emily twisted on her stool, wrinkled her nose. “Maybe I should go check on Liz. She wasn’t as drunk as I was, but I didn’t see her when I got back. Was she okay when she went to bed?”

Jason opened his mouth, then closed, remembering that strange moment on the sofa the night before when he’d touched Elizabeth’s face to check her injury more closely, and somehow—

He cleared his throat. “She was fine. You know, if you’d told Marco what happened — the whole story—then maybe he wouldn’t have called me—”

Emily’s brows pinched together. “What do you mean? We totally told him everything from beginning to end. He sat down with us, Jase, okay? And he was really pushy. Like I don’t know if he thought he was being charming or whatever, but it was definitely uncomfortable. Liz tried to be nice, but he wouldn’t go away. We got up, and he grabbed her—then—” Emily jerked a shoulder. “I don’t know. He said something I didn’t hear but he had her arm—”

“He put his hands on her — Elizabeth had every right to defend herself. If Marco knew that—”

“He did,” Emily insisted hotly. “Okay? We told him. Liz showed him her arm—”

“What about her arm?”

“She had red marks and I bet it’s bruised today. But that asshole just kept saying maybe if we weren’t—” Emily pressed her lips together. “Never mind. He’s your friend and he’s a guy, so you’ll just defend him. I thought you’d be different—”

“Whoa, whoa—” Jason caught his sister before she could indignantly flounce away. “What do you mean you told him? If he knew—”

“He made it like it was our fault. Like we made the first move by sitting down, and Liz apparently wore a tube top, so she was asking for it. Maybe we should dress the way we want to be treated,” Emily bit out. “I tried to tell him you were my brother, but he didn’t seem to think that mattered. Said Liz should think twice before she goes into a bar and asks for attention.”

Jason went still. “Tell me everything he said. From the beginning.”

—

She was being ridiculous, that was all there was to it.

Elizabeth rifled through what remained of her clothing options, wishing she’d brought a sweater. Maybe she could wrap a sheet around her—

“You’re being an idiot,” she told herself in the mirror, and yanked out the bikini and a pair of cut off jeans, the same basic outfit she’d worn every day to go down to the beach. Just because Jason was here now, it didn’t mean anything. It was just a bikini top, not a bra—and it covered the same amount of skin that her top last night had—

But it was weird and different and unsettling because well — She tied the top and wrinkled her nose in the mirror. Did it draw attention to her breasts? Did Jason think that’s why she’d wear it? Would he think she was prancing around half-naked because of last night?

Last night. Nothing happened. Except he’d touched her mouth and she’d looked at him, and all of a sudden, he wasn’t Jason but he was Jason—

“An idiot. That’s you,” she told her reflection, then yanked her tote bag with the art supplies. Go down the hall, grab some water and fruit and go to the beach. Jason probably wasn’t even here anymore—

But there he was — in the kitchen area standing behind the counter, glaring at Emily. When she came out of the hallway, he swept his gaze over hers — and the irritation only sharpened. “Why didn’t you tell me you told Marco about that guy grabbing you?”

Oh, damn, he’d gone back to being irritated. Maybe he’d been dragged away from something important, Elizabeth thought. She twisted her fingers together as she approached, licked her lips nervously. “Listen, this isn’t a big deal, okay? The charges are dropped. It’s good, isn’t it?”

“That’s what I’m saying. It sucked, and we won’t go back,” Emily said, looking back and forth between them. “Let’s talk about something better. Liz, tell Jason he’s not raining on our parade if he hangs out here for the rest of the vacation. We already had the nude orgies,” she told her brother who just stared at her. “Oookay, not ready for the jokes. Liz, he listens to you—”

“Not right now,” Elizabeth muttered, and his mouth pinched. “Um, it’s your place, right? So do whatever you want.” She finally gathered the courage to lift her gaze to his, and when their eyes met, all she could bring to mind was how the rough skin of his thumb had felt against her mouth, and now she felt hot all over. “I gotta go.”

She hoisted the tote over her shoulder and made a beeline for the terrace doors opening out onto the beach.

Jason stared after her, exhaled in a slow exhale. So much for pretending that little moment hadn’t happened or hoping he’d been the only one to experience the temporary insanity, he thought. Her tongue had darted out, and he’d dropped his eyes right to it — and then she’d looked at him like she knew exactly what he was thinking—

He looked back at Emily who was staring after her friend with curious eyes. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, but you and Elizabeth just go on like I’m not here. I can make myself busy up at the resort if I need to.”

“Aye aye—” Emily saluted, then slid off the stool. “I’m gonna go make sure Liz is okay. Maybe last night shook her up more than she’s admitting.”

“Yeah, maybe.” And remembering how she’d looked on Valentine’s Day, her shattered eyes when she recounted why Lucky’s choose of day was particularly awful, Jason wanted to punch something.

Or someone.

—

Elizabeth sank into the beach chair beneath the umbrella, then dug through her bag for her sketchpad and pencil. She switched to a clean page and just started to draw, wondering if she could ever really illustrate how weird it felt — the strange pull in her stomach when she and Jason had looked at each other the night before — or just now in the kitchen. The tingling all over, inside and out.

This was a hell of a way to find out that her ability to be attracted to someone hadn’t died with the end of her relationship with Lucky — or that the something she’d hinted to Emily had been missing with Lucky was sexual attraction—

“You know, you don’t have to get all weird about it.”

Elizabeth looked up, her eyes wide. Emily dropped into the chair next to her. “What? What?”

“Jason. He doesn’t even know, so you can relax.”

How—how did Emily— Elizabeth gripped her pencil more tightly. “Know what?”

“What we were talking about before that guy went all Rambo last night.” Emily squirted some lotion on her arms, began to work it into her skin. “You know when we were talking about dating, and I was teasing you about Jason. He doesn’t know, so you don’t have to be weird about it.”

“Oh. Oh. No, I know—” She cleared her throat. “I know that. It’s just—I forgot about it until I saw him this morning, and it just—it’s fine. I know. I feel bad that everything got out of control last night.”

“You didn’t do anything—”

“I could have de-escalated it another way. I didn’t have to hit him. I just—” Elizabeth bit her lip, looked out over the sparkling waters of the Caribbean. “I didn’t. I chose to hit him, and then your brother had to come to my rescue. Again. I’m tired of it—”

“Well, it’s not your fault.” Emily leaned back, stretched out her limbs. “Jason handled it, and he said don’t worry. So take his advice.”

“Yeah, maybe.” She stared down at the sketch pad, rudimentary shapes beginning to take form — “But I just know there has to be a way for me to fix it. I’m not some damsel in distress.”

She shoved her things back in her bag. “I’m going to take care of a few things. I’ll be back later.”

—

Shoving Marco against the wall hadn’t been nearly as satisfying as Jason had hoped it would be — not when the police deputy’s sputtering apologies only infuriated him more. Sure — Emily and Elizabeth might get better treatment if they ran into trouble again, but they should have been treated right from the beginning—

Even making a few phone calls and getting the asshole replaced wouldn’t take off the edge of Jason’s temper. Marco hadn’t helped things — but he also hadn’t been the one to start it, and that was where Jason’s real fury was rooted.

He learned from the overly apologetic deputy that the bastard in question frequented that bar on a daily basis, and could often be found there during the day playing poker. Leaving Marco relieved and in relatively one piece, Jason headed over a few streets to the Pirate’s Den.

It looked even seedier in the daylight — Jason had tossed back a few a time or two and found that the atmosphere wasn’t that different from Jake’s. He stepped inside, went to the bar. “Manuel—”

“Jason Morgan.” The owner of the bar grinned and came down to his end. “I didn’t know you were around. You want your usual—”

“Not here for a drink. I want Dario Colon. Which one is he?”

Manuel hesitated. “You know, he’s got connections—”

“Connections that Sonny made. He put Armando in office, he’ll take him out. Your bar fight last night. You know who those women were, don’t you?” Jason demanded.

The owner looked uneasy now. “I wasn’t here, but my cousin said two Americans girls came in, half drunk, making passes. Dario just tried to take them up on the offer—but they weren’t just any girls, were they?” he asked with an air of resignation. He dragged his hand down his face. “One of them punched Dario. He wouldn’t have liked that. Is she related to you?”

“My sister and her best friend,” Jason said, flatly. “The woman he grabbed and wouldn’t let go?”

“Your sister? Oh, damn it. Damn it—that fool—”

“Does she need to be my sister for it to matter, Manuel? Sonny paid off those debts for you. Made it so you could get this place. You said you’d owe him. You repay Sonny by letting men grab women in your place?” Jason cut in. “I make a call, and you’re out on your ass. So you want to make good, you’ll tell me which one of these bastards is Dario, and I’ll consider it settled.”

“Dario’s the one in the blue—” Manuel gestured towards the other side of the room. “Listen, I know you’ve got to protect your womenfolk, Jason. But my cousin said they were dressed for trouble—maybe they should—”

“You should stop talking before I change my mind about telling Sonny.” Jason’s hands curled into fists at his side. How many men were going to blame Elizabeth for what she’d been wearing?

He turned, found the man in blue around a poker table, laughing. There was a glass of liquor at his side. Jason considered the other men, but discarded them as real concerns. He strode across the bar, grabbed Dario by the throat and dragged him out of the chair, all the way back to the nearby wall.

“Hey, what, mamabicho, what are you doing?” the man demanded, kicking at the air. His face began to flush. “Who are you—”

“Jason Morgan.”

He saw the flicker of recognition in Dario’s eyes and the mutters from the men behind him. “You know who I am, don’t you?”

“I didn’t do anything to you—”

“Think again. You go around grabbing women all the time?”

“She came on to—” The words were choked off when Jason tightened his fingers on Dario’s throat. “Didn’t know she was yours—”

“No, you didn’t,” Jason bit out, almost enjoying the deep flush crawling up the man’s cheeks. “You gonna go keep putting your hands on women who tell you no?”

“Sorry, sorry, tell her I’m sorry—no disrespect—”

Jason let him fall to the ground in a heap. “Put your hands on another woman and you’ll wish I’d finished the job today.”

Dario scrambled to his feet and darted past Jason, only to stop short when he saw someone standing in the entrance to the bar.

Jason froze when he realized it was Elizabeth standing there, staring at him with wide eyes like she’d never seen him before.

Damn it.

Written in 64 minutes.

---

March 2000

It had seemed like such an excellent idea back at the house. She’d set everything to rights by  heading back into town, finding the owner of the bar, and offering to pay for any damages. She’d started the fight, and this was her responsibility. And maybe if Jason saw her taking accountability for it, he wouldn’t be so angry about it.

And that idea had continued to seem perfectly reasonable right until Elizabeth stepped inside and saw Jason with a man shoved against a wall—the man from the night before.

“Didn’t know she was yours—”

“No, you didn’t,” Jason bit out, his voice like ice, his expression stone. “You gonna go keep putting your hands on women who tell you no?”

“Sorry, sorry, tell her I’m sorry—no disrespect—”

Jason let him fall to the ground in a heap. “Put your hands on another woman and you’ll wish I’d finished the job today.”

The man scrambled past Jason, then stopped dead when he saw her. He whirled back to look Jason, then back at her. “Lo siento! De acuerdo? Sorry! Tell your man I won’t touch!”

Elizabeth opened her mouth, but he darted past her. She half-turned to follow his escape out the door, struggling to process the last few minutes. What was Jason doing here—and what had that guy been babbling about? Had Jason threatened him because…because of her?

The thought was almost too fantastical, and Elizabeth turned back to find Jason had closed the distance between them—and still looked furious. “Why are you here?”

“Oh.” Elizabeth blinked, trying to recall. “Oh, I came to—I wanted to make up for what happened last night. So I thought maybe I could find out if there were damages, and I could pay for it—”

“You wanted to pay for damages.” As Jason repeated those words, there was a vein in his forehead that seemed to bulge. He pressed his lips together, nodded, then looked over at the man behind the bar. “Manuel, any thing you want to say to her?”

“No. No. No damages. In fact, please, if the young lady would accept our apologies for all this business. Have a great day. Come back again—or not,” the man said when Jason shot him a dirty look.

“Okay, did I miss something?” Elizabeth asked, but Jason had already strode past her to the door. Yep. Definitely missed something. She hurried after him, taking two steps for every one of his long strides. When they reached the sidewalk, she called after him. “Are you still mad at me? I was trying—”

“I told you I’m not—” Jason just shook his head, saw the car at the curb, then sighed. He held out his hand. “Keys.”

“Okay, but at some point you’re going to tell me what I did wrong, right?” She dropped the keys in his hand.

He ignored her, looked back at the bar where the owner had followed them out. “Manuel, call up to the resort. Get someone to drive this back to my place.” He tossed the keys, and the man grabbed them.

“My driving privileges are revoked? Really? This is getting ridiculous—”

“You think I’m going to let you wander around when Dario Colon just got humiliated in front of his friends?” Jason demanded. “You showed up and made it worse. And assholes like him like to take it out on people weaker than them.”

“Well, I didn’t know he’d be here—” Elizabeth grumbled, following him to the motorcycle parked around the corner. He jerked the helmet off the back, held it out. “And you didn’t tell me you were doing any of this—”

“Let’s just get out of here.” Jason climbed on the bike, and waited for her to get on behind him. She pursed her lips, hesitating an extra minute wondering why it seemed so different today when it hadn’t been a big deal just a month ago. Just climb on, slide right up against him, and put your hands on his chest to hold on. No problem.

 

Elizabeth didn’t want to make it worse, so she got on the bike, her fingers trembling slightly as they wrapped around his torso. In the Caribbean, there was no thick leather jacket — just the short-sleeved white t-shirt he wore separating her fingers from the warmth of his skin—

Don’t think about it. Just stop thinking about it. Go back to not thinking about it at all.

But this was a hell of a time to finally understand why people took cold showers.

—

He was an idiot. An impulsive moron who had been running mostly on adrenaline since leaving the house earlier that afternoon, and he didn’t really know how to dig himself out of the hole he’d created.

A few minutes into the ride, Jason realized if he took the direct way home, he’d have to face Elizabeth all over again with those wide eyes looking at him like he was a stranger. She’d seen him nearly choke a man to death, and then he’d all but shoved her on this bike behind him, forcing her to come back with him.

He’d just—he’d thought of that little punk coming across her and taking his humiliation out on Elizabeth. She wasn’t safe in Pirate’s Well, and getting her back to the house was all he could focus on.

But then she’d hesitated to get on the bike and her grip hadn’t been as tight as it should have been. He took the turns a little more slowly — and decided to take an another way home. The long way, past an outcropping of rocks that jutted out into the Caribbean. Maybe by the time they got there, he’d know what to say to her. How to apologize.

He pulled off the road onto the dirt shoulder, switched off the engine. He felt the bike rock as Elizabeth swung her leg off the bike. She removed the helmet, propped it on her waist, then squinted as she looked at the ocean crashing against the rocks.

“Um, am I getting thrown overboard?” she asked, sinking her teeth into her lower lip. “Because this isn’t the house.”

“No. No. I wanted to talk to you without Emily around. Look—” He switched off the bike and climbed off, turning to face her. The uncertainty in her eyes stung and he clenched his jaw. He was just such an idiot, and maybe he was the one that needed to go overboard.

“No, okay, you look. I don’t know what crawled up your butt and died, but I didn’t do anything wrong, okay? I mean, okay, yeah, I threw the first punch, but he grabbed me and I panicked, and I’m not okay with you acting like I’m the bad guy—”

“I’m not mad at you,” Jason interrupted and she pressed her lips together, her expression still mutinous. “Not…not for anything you did last night. I’m just…I’m angry because you were there today.”

“I told you—”

“For seeing that.”

Elizabeth closed her mouth, her brows pinched together. “Seeing what?” She set the helmet back on the bike. “I don’t understand.”

“With…that guy. I—” Jason shook his head, looked out over the ocean, wishing now he was one of the waves washing over the rocks so that he could sink to the bottom of the sea. “That’s all.”

“Because you had him against the wall?” she asked hesitantly. “That’s—that’s what this was all about—I don’t understand. You were mad at me last night, too. And this morning—”

“No, I wasn’t. Not at you. At all of this, and then—at the bar—”

“You’re mad because I saw you choke a guy against the wall?” Elizabeth asked skeptically. “What does that even mean? You’ve threatened to throw Lucky in the lake at least five times, and three of them, you were definitely not kidding.”

Jason opened his mouth, looked at her with a frown. “What?”

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose, shifted her weight from one foot to another. “I’m sorry. Were you under the assumption that I didn’t know who you were? You’re Jason Morgan. You work for Sonny Corinthos. And for a little while, you were Sonny, or you did whatever he does.” She stepped towards him, and he just stared at her. “Jason, the first time I ever saw you was at a wedding where I literally was searched by armed guards because I’d stolen an invitation. Nikolas got shot because he was in the same parking lot as you. It’s actually a little insulting,” she muttered, and he blinked at that. “You think I’m idiot, don’t you? Like a guy gets a private villa and basically owns an island as a garage mechanic—”

“I—I hadn’t thought about it—”

“This is absolutely ridiculous. You’re mad at me for starting the fight, but you go and start a new fight, and somehow I’m still the one in trouble? I’m started to get pissed off,” she muttered.

Jason dragged a hand through his hair, exhaling in a rush. “You just—you looked at me like you didn’t know me—”

“I looked at you like what the hell is he doing here, that’s all. And you know, you didn’t have to go to all that trouble. You got the charges dropped, so—”

“Yeah, I paid a visit there first,” Jason cut in, and she stopped short at that. “He needed an attitude adjustment. I sent you here—and my sister,” he added quickly, “and you were supposed to be safe. My name was supposed to make it that way. But it didn’t, and you got hurt. It could have been worse.”

“It has been worse,” she said softly. “I don’t say that to make you feel bad, but just—look, you’re not responsible for me, okay? I don’t want anyone to ever feel that way again. I’m not someone you have to rescue. Maybe you’ve gotten used to that over the last few months—”

“I’ve never rescued you from anything,” Jason interrupted. “I gave you a couple of rides—”

“People don’t have to be in literal danger to need a rescue,” she said softly, lifting her gaze to his. “Maybe you didn’t see them as rescues, but I did. You were there when I needed someone. But that doesn’t make me your responsibility. I’m my own person, and before last night, I’m not sure I ever thought about myself as someone who could rescue herself. So last night? That’s not on you.”

“We’re going to have to agree to disagree there,” he said, and she offered him a half-smile. “I’m sorry. For losing my temper, for dragging you here—”

“No, you had a point about that guy maybe still hanging around. But it’s really fine. I know how protective you are of your sister, and it could have been her last night.”

He opened his mouth to protest that Emily wasn’t the reason he was angry, but then he closed it. Because Emily should have been the reason. She’d been at the bar, at the police station — all of that had included her, but Jason had never for one minute been worried about her once he’d seen her unharmed in the station.

It had been Elizabeth with the bruise on her face, and the cut on her bottom lip that had inspired the rage, and he didn’t know exactly when her well-being had become important to him or how he felt about that development.

“Let’s just go,” Jason said, handing over the helmet.

—

Emily was waiting when they got back to the house, standing on the front terrace. “I woke up from my nap, and you were both gone,” she complained. “No note, no call. And then some guy brings back the car, like, dude, what the hell?”

Elizabeth tossed Jason the helmet and darted up the steps to see her friend. “Oh, I ran into town, and Jason was there. And you know I’m addicted to the speed, I couldn’t help myself.”

Her best friend pursed her lip, then nodded. “All right—but—”

“I have so much work to do,” Elizabeth interrupted, dashing past her and into the house.

Jason climbed the steps. “Hey. I have a few things to deal with here, so I’ll stay until Sunday.”

“Oh, good.” Emily wound her arm through his. “I promise I’m not going to be getting in trouble every year like this—”

“Don’t apologize. You and Elizabeth had every right to go out and have fun. It’s the world that’s terrible.” Jason squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t worry about it anymore.” He wanted to put the whole situation out of his head, too, and go back to how everything had been just twenty-four hours earlier.

—

Dinner was quiet — Emily was still a little pale from the long night. She’d drank more than Elizabeth, and hadn’t eaten enough, she’d told Jason. She turned in early, and Elizabeth scurried away to sketch in her room, not wanting to be alone with Jason just yet.

She needed to take some time, to think about everything that had happened today—what had happened last night. The strange moment of electricity, and all the weird and flustery feelings she’d had today—

And if she could just stop recalling how Jason’s hand had felt on her mouth, or the way his chest felt on that ride home—

After a few hours, when the house seemed quiet, and she was sure Jason had gone to bed, too. Elizabeth crept back outside, wanting to sit out on the terrace by the living room which had a better view of the moonlight over the water. She curled up in one of the seats, pulled out the sketchbook, and worked by the dim light from inside the house.

She heard him a half second before he appeared out of the dark, his feet padding against the sand. Then Jason stepped into the light of the terrace, little more than the lamp from the living room just inside. His hair was dripping…and Elizabeth’s gaze followed those little droplets of water as they dipped inside his collarbone, then slid off one pectoral—

“I’m sorry,” Jason said, his voice jarring her out of her trance, and she flushed, looked down at her things, started to shove them back in the back. “I thought you were both in bed.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. It’s me, really, you know, I have the terrace in my room, but I like this view—I mean—the moon—” Elizabeth jerked to her feet, wanting to disappear into the sand. She licked her lips nervously. “I wanted to get out of my room, and I thought you’d gone to bed.”

He hesitated. “Why—why did you need to wait until I’d gone to sleep?” he asked, squinting in confusion.

Elizabeth did not want to answer that, and decided the best way to end all of this was to turn it back on him. “Well, why did you wait until we were in our rooms before you went down to the beach?” she demanded, trying very hard not to look at another drop of water as it followed the earlier one, slowly rolling down to his—oh, so that’s what a six-pack looked like in real life—

She jerked her eyes away before it was absorbed by the swim trunks he wore, because if her brain went there, she’d never recover her sanity. “I’m going inside—”

She turned, but he reached out, his hand brushing down her forearm until it reached her hand. “Wait.”

Written in 101 minutes. I went WAY over but I had to finish Spring Break, lol!

---

March 2000

He should have just let her go inside because now that he had Elizabeth’s attention, now that she’d turned to face him, looking at him with those questioning eyes, his mouth dried up and he didn’t know what to say. Her hand was in his, and all he could remember now was how it held felt to have her behind him on the bike, pressed against him, her arms wrapped around his torso—it hadn’t felt like that in Port Charles, not with their coats providing extra layers.

She wasn’t dressed in the sweater and jeans that he was used to, but for the hot, humid air of the Caribbean, with tiny shorts that showed off how long her legs were and a tank top that dipped low over her chest with one strap that had already slid off her shoulder. Tendrils of her hair had escaped whatever she’d secured it with on top her head and curled up around her face. And he’d seen the way she’d looked at him before she’d stood up, the flick of her tongue sweeping across her full bottom lip when she’d dragged her eyes up to his face, a slight flush in her cheeks.

He didn’t know how long he’d been standing here, staring at her, hoping for words to come back to him, to remember why he’d grabbed her hand and stopped her from escaping inside. “I’m sorry,” he said, roughly, as if the words had to be forced out. “I handled all of this wrong, especially if you feel like you have to hide out in your room.”

“It’s okay—”

“It’s not,” he said, cutting her off. “I would hate it if we went home in a few days with you still thinking I give a damn about you slugging some asshole in a bar fight or getting in trouble with the cops. I’d be a hypocrite,” he added, “because I’ve done the same things. I’m glad you protected yourself. I just—” He shook his head, looked down at her hand, still in his. It was soft and paler than his, her nails worn short with red nail polish that had started to chip. “I can’t stand that we live in a world where you’re not safe even walking into a bar on an island Sonny practically controls.” He lifted his gaze to hers again. “I’m angry that you had a single minute of fear. I’m angry at myself, the situation, at men in general. But never you.”

Her lips curved into a slight smile. “It really is okay. I get it — you think you’ve let your sister and me come to this place that your friend basically runs and something bad still happened. Maybe Sonny gets a say in who owns what what or who’s in power, but humans are still humans. Some of them are terrible, but most of them are okay.” She shrugged one shoulder, then looked down at their hands. “It took a while for me to get back to believing that, but I’m not going to let that one guy ruin that for me. People are generally good if you give them a chance to show it.”

“I don’t know about that—”

“Look at you,” she said, and he closed his mouth. “Almost from the moment I came to Port Charles, I’ve heard people say the most awful things about you. Detective Taggert—you know, he was really kind to me when he investigated my case, but I know how he talks to you. About you. But that’s not who you are.”

“They’re not wrong—”

“You’d never hurt me, and that’s all that matters,” she said. She stepped just a little closer. “You can’t stop the world from being what it is. All you can do is find a way to live in it. Last night—that wasn’t my fault. But that doesn’t mean it was yours, either. And ” Her eyes searched his. “I really hope you know that.”

He swallowed hard, but couldn’t look away. He felt another droplet of water fall from his hair, slide down his neck to his chest. Her eyes dropped down, and so did his. And then, with the hand he wasn’t holding, Elizabeth touched him, just with one fingertip, the droplet absorbed by her skin. He exhaled slowly, then, almost as in a trance, with his free hand, he covered hers, flattening it against his chest, a shiver sliding across his skin.

He looked up, and a moment later, her eyes lifted to his. She licked her lips, and he leaned in—

And a light flashed behind them, jerking them apart—Elizabeth backing up almost the terrace, her eyes wide. They stared at each other, almost in horror. Because what the hell had almost happened?

“Hey,” Emily said, stepping onto the terrace. She furrowed her brow. “Were you down at the beach?”

“Yeah.” Jason cleared his throat, crouched down for the towel he’d dropped at some point. “I thought you went to bed.”

“I tried. But I can’t sleep. I thought I’d come out and watch a movie.” Emily hesitated, looked at Elizabeth. “But if you’re, like, talking or sketching or whatever, I can go—”

“No. No, it’s—I got, um, I got what I needed.” Elizabeth grabbed her sketchpad and pencil case. “Let’s go find something to watch.” She followed Emily inside, and Jason lingered on the terrace for another minute, wondering if he should just go throw himself in the ocean.

—

The next morning, Jason was determined to put all of that behind him. He’d cleared the air with Elizabeth, who knew he wasn’t actually angry with her. All the rest of it—it was proximity, he decided. She was a beautiful woman who listened when he talked, and he liked her—but that had to be the end of it. She was just starting out her life with dreams of being an artist. The last thing she needed was her best friend’s older brother dragging her into his world.

He went into the kitchen and brewed some coffee, while tossing together a breakfast for Emily and Elizabeth. His sister came out first, looking restored to her natural health and energy.

“I’m so glad you’re sticking around for the rest of the trip,” Emily told him, accepting the orange juice he handed her. “Liz and I can’t cook anything that doesn’t come out of a box, and you can—” She grinned at him. “You’re really the best of brothers.”

“What do you want?” Jason asked, slightly suspicious. He slid the omelet onto her plate, then leaned back against the counter to sip his coffee. “I know that tone.”

“Why do I have to want something?” Emily pouted, twirled her fork. “Maybe I just appreciate a good sibling. AJ’s not terrible, but you’re always the first person I call, and I shouldn’t take it for granted. Plus, I actually like you as a person,” she told him. “Not just as a family member. That is incredibly rare. Take Liz, for example — she has one of each and they’re both useless.” She beamed at him. “Not my brother.”

“What do you want?” Jason repeated.

“Well, I was thinking that we only have two more days of this trip,” Emily said. “I plan on spending them on the beach, perfecting my tan, you know. But on Saturday night, Liz and I tried to get reservations at that really swanky restaurant we told you about, but I don’t know if the hostess didn’t care that you’re my brother—”

“I’ll take care of it.” He sipped his coffee. “But that’s not what you wanted. Or at least, that’s not all.”

“You know, I’m very lucky to have such a smart brother—”

“Emily.”

She wrinkled her nose. “You know, most people want to be flattered before they hit up for a favor. I just wanted you to know how much I love you and how much I love spending time with you away from all the idiots in Port Charles—”

Jason set down his coffee, getting his first sense of what Emily was going to ask. “No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish buttering you up. Come on. Come to dinner with us. We haven’t gone out, you and me, in like ages. You remember that one time, like two years ago, I tricked you into having lunch with me and AJ. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

It had been before Michael — when Jason and AJ had been on decent terms. He looked away, dragged his hand down his cheek. “You really want me to go?”

“I do. I think you spend too much time on your own, and I’m determined to get you back into the world. Baby steps. Here where no one knows you,” Emily added. “I know you get worried sometimes about who else is watching. But that’s not a problem here, is it?”

“No. No, it’s not. I’ll call and make sure they put your name down,” Jason said, resigned. He really didn’t know how to say no to his little sister. It was starting to be a problem.

“Awesome. Sincerely the best news all day—”

“You’ve only been up for a few hours,” Elizabeth teased, emerging from the hallway leading down to the bedrooms. She studiously avoided his gaze and slid onto the stool next to Emily. “Maybe this news won’t even be top five by noon.”

“No, Jason’s going to get us reservations at that restaurant, and he’s agreed to go dinner, too.” Emily stabbed her fork in her omelet, chewed.

“Oh. That’s great. Um, thanks,” Elizabeth said when Jason held out a glass of juice. She carefully took it, making sure their fingers didn’t touch. Good. She clearly felt the same way he did. “You guys should have a lot of fun. The menu looks great.”

“Hey, doofus, you’re coming, too,” Emily said. “It’s still our vacation—”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to get in the way—you were just telling me the other day you wish you got to spend more time with your brother,” Elizabeth said. “Really, it’s not an issue—”

“Oh,  well, yeah, but that doesn’t change if you come. Plus, you and me are basically family,” Emily said. She looked at Jason. “Tell her, Jason.  She’s not getting in our way.”

“I think I’m actually getting in your way,” Jason said, a bit hesitantly. Elizabeth finally looked at him. “Besides, Emily needs someone to talk to other than me all night or I might run screaming in the opposite direction.”

Emily gasped in mock outrage. “I am amazing. How very dare you—”

“Fine, fine. I’ll go. But I need to get back to work. The light here is amazing,” Elizabeth said, sliding off the stool, taking her juice and a banana from the bowl. “And I want to get as much as I can before I have to go back to the gray skies of upstate New York.” She disappeared down the hall.

Emily wrinkled her nose. “She works too much. School, Kelly’s, art. I’m glad you came down and at least got her out of the house on the bike. Other than the bar which was not a smashing success, I’ve barely pried her away from those sketchpads. I think she needs to start dating again, what do you think?” she asked Jason.

“I think that’s my cue to go do something else,” he said, picking up his coffee. “Don’t fall asleep on the beach and burn yourself.”

—

“Our reservation is in a half hour,” Jason called down the hallway. “And it takes twenty minutes to get there—”

“Not the way you drive!” his sister’s voice floated down the hallway. “Relax!”

“Ten minutes and I’m leaving with or without you—”

“You wouldn’t—”

“Better not test him,” Elizabeth said, calling over her shoulder as she emerged from the hallway. “I don’t think he’s bluffing.” She turned back to him, smiling. “You should go close the door loud enough for her to hear it in about five minutes.”

Jason shoved his hands in the pockets of his khaki pants, suddenly unsure what to do with them — or maybe afraid of what he would do with them with Elizabeth standing in front of him in a cherry red strapless dress that fell a few inches above her knees. Her skin had darkened a few shades to a pale gold, and her eyes sparkled with mischief when they met his. He really just wanted to brush her hair from her bare shoulders, tuck it behind her ear—and that was why his hands were staying in his pockets.

“Don’t tempt me,” Jason said finally, then he fought the urge to wince when she bit her lip, looked away. Because of course, he’d meant for that to sound like a response to her statement — but it had somehow come out more serious, and he knew he meant it literally. He hoped she didn’t.

“You clean up nice,” Elizabeth said finally, looking back, gesturing at the white button down shirt he wore. “I hope you didn’t have to go to any trouble since you weren’t planning to be here—”

“I always keep some things here. Sonny’s always making me get dressed up,” Jason said, almost as a mutter, and she laughed.

“Well, sorry, but Emily had her heart set on this place, and there was no chance you were getting out of it.” Her eyes softened. “It really is nice that you’re doing this for her. She’s lucky to have a brother who shows up for her.”

“I know you said you don’t talk to yours. I’m sorry.”

“Eh, I’d rather not have someone obligated to like me because we’re family.” Elizabeth scrunched her nose. “That’s all it is with me, Steven, and Sarah. Steven and Sarah don’t even really like each other. I appreciate that we’re honest about what we’re not, you know? No pretending to be the Bradys.” He must have looked confused, because she went on, “You know, having the big holidays like we’re one big happy family. We don’t even send cards now.”

“I’m sorry—”

“It’s okay. Family isn’t always the blood one you were born into.” Elizabeth smiled. “Sometimes you get to choose your people. And I got really lucky when Emily and I chose each other. She and Gram, they’re all the family I need right now.”

Jason opened his mouth to respond, but was mercifully saved when Emily find came out. “It’s about time,” he said.

“Relax, I still had two minutes of my ten.” Emily wrapped her arms through one of his. “How’s my favorite, most handsome big brother?”

“I’m already dressed and going, so you don’t have to keep this up,” Jason said dryly. He grabbed his keys from the table. “Let’s go.”

—

It was almost back to normal, Elizabeth thought with some relief. She and Jason were able to talk, and neither one of them had brought up that strange moment on the terrace. She couldn’t explain what the hell she’d been thinking, and she was sure that Jason was probably as mystified as she was.

No, it was so much better this way, she thought, sipping her margarita, and smiling across the table at Emily teasing her brother again. Back in the realm of friendship, where it was safe. If she’d done something insane like kiss her best friend’s brother, it would have been…insane. Stupid. Reckless. And what if she’d been misreading all of this, and he just looked at her with pity—

No, no, better not to believe her rusty to the point of nonexistent skills at reading men. Better to wonder and not know for sure, when the answer was almost definitely no.

“Liz? Earth to Liz—” Emily waved her hand in front of Elizabeth’s face and she blinked.

“What, sorry, did you say something?” She forced a smile. “I was distracted by the view—of the water,” she added hastily when Jason—seated directly across from her—just looked at her. “What did you ask?”

“I asked how your work for the show was coming along since you’ve been drawing the whole time,” Emily said. She picked up her own drink. “Jason, you know about this, right? Elizabeth is one of like five artists in the entire program to have an exhibit at the campus showcase in like two months.”

“I knew you’d been picked, but you didn’t say it was only five other people. That’s great,” Jason said.

“It’s amazing,” Emily said before Elizabeth could say anything. “She’ll tell you it was just luck, but I know it wasn’t. I saw the piece she won with, so I can’t wait to see it expanded. You said you’re doing it in oil?”

“Um, yeah. Yeah. That’s going to be one of the four pieces I’m doing. It’s already done. I have to do three more. I think I have some ideas what they’re going to be, but I won’t know until I get back to Port Charles and book some time in the art studio. I wish I had a place of my own,” she admitted with a sigh. “But for right now, this will be good enough.”

“She’s amazing, really,” Emily told Jason. “The sketch she won with, it just messes you up. Sorry, should I talk about that?” she asked Elizabeth hesitantly. “I don’t know if Jason knows what you did—”

“He knows the topic,” Elizabeth said, twisting her glass back and forth, looking at Jason for a moment before looking back at her best friend. “I told you. Jason’s the one that gave me the encouragement to sketch it.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot. You’re like her muse,” Emily said.

Elizabeth’s cheeks flushed because well, Jason had sort of been her muse over the last few days, but — “No, I wouldn’t go that far, um, it’s just—he said something that made me think about how I was approaching all of my projects, and I switched things up. And I can honestly—I feel the difference. Even now. So—”

“I don’t deserve any credit. Really. You’re the one doing the work,” Jason told her. He held his beer in his hand — he’d been nursing just the one all throughout dinner since he was driving. “I’m glad the trip’s helped.”

“I can’t wait to see what you get from her. It sucks you can’t really see her art,” Emily told her brother, and Jason dropped his gaze, looking down at the table cloth. “Because it just hits you, you know, but you said with the accident, art’s not really something you understand.”

“Yeah, well,” Jason shifted in his seat, but kept his eyes down, and Elizabeth realized he was embarrassed, like he had been after that scene at the bar.

“Art’s for everyone, you know? It doesn’t matter what people see or don’t see, what they understand or don’t. It’s just about the way you feel when you look at it.” Elizabeth paused. “And sometimes you don’t feel anything. Like, we went to the modern art museum in New York last year, and can I just tell you how much I don’t understand half of that? There was a bathroom mirror on one of the walls — you know the ones that look like medicine cabinets? That was supposed to be an art piece.”

Jason looked up at her, squinted. “A bathroom mirror?” he repeated.

“Right? Some sort of comment on the intersection of capitalism and beauty standards. Whatever. I got weird looks when I checked my teeth for pieces of the salad I’d had for lunch.”

Emily laughed, picked up her margarita. “Oh, yeah, for sure. And sometimes it all looks like scribbles, and you’ve got people standing in front of this drawing a first-grader could do, nodding sagely like they get it. That’s why I like your stuff, Liz. I don’t have to be, like, insane to get it. Anyway, it’s going to be a great night and I’m so insanely proud of you. Maybe I should throw you a party—”

“No, please don’t,” Elizabeth said, but Emily was already off and running. Jason met Elizabeth’s eyes across the table with a flash of gratitude for having diverted his sister’s conversation from talking about his accident.

—

It was late when they got back to the house, and knowing they’d have to leave early in the morning, Elizabeth went straight to her room, making sure she’d packed everything. But she felt restless and not tired at all. She padded down the dark hallway to the terrace, hoping a walk on the beach would help settle her down.

And it looked like she wasn’t the only one with that thought — she ran into Jason, his feet bare, and the bottom of his pants rolled up. He’d tugged the shirt out of the pants and unbuttoned the top few buttons.

She stopped at the terrace entrance, bit her lip. “Oh, are you just coming back in?”

“No, I was going to take a walk.” Jason hesitated and their eyes met across the terrace, both remembering the last time they’d been here. Or maybe he was wondering why his sister’s roommate was looking at him like she’d jump him at the first opportunity.

Determined to keep things back to normal and to prove things hadn’t really changed, Elizabeth took a deep breath. “So was I. Unless you want to be alone…because I could wait.”

—

Say yes. Say yes. She’d given him an out, just like she’d done at dinner earlier, and he needed to take it. Say yes.

But Jason didn’t. “No, no, that’s fine. We could—we could go together.”

She smiled hesitantly, kicked off her sandals and crossed the terrace. Wordlessly, they walked down the short distance to the water until they were just at the edge, waves washing across their feet as they started to walk along the waterline.

The silence continued for a few more minutes, just the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, the only light from the moon and the house nearby.

Finally, Elizabeth spoke. “I’m really glad I stopped arguing with Emily and came down here. I know she thinks all I’ve done is work down here, but I’ve, um, really been able to relax. It’s…restful here, you know?”

“Yeah.” He looked straight ahead, keeping his unruly hands in his pockets. Their shoulders brushed occasionally as they walked over the uneven sand. “I wish I came down more.”

“Why don’t you?”

Her question was soft, nearly lost in the dull roar of the ocean, and he could have pretended not to hear it. But he had, so he answered. “I brought Michael here. He…really liked the water.”

“I’m sorry,” she said after a moment. She was quiet for a beat, then said, “I can’t really imagine what it would be like to have that kind of love in your life and lose it. I’m sorry,” she repeated.

Jason shook his head, not wanting to accept the pity. “I have no right to complain. I told Carly I’d step in as his father. I did this to myself.”

“Yeah, but—” Elizabeth stopped, and he walked another few steps before realizing it. He turned to face her, her expression mostly in shadows. “You didn’t know the scope of what you were agreeing to. You couldn’t see the future. Had you ever been a dad before?”

Jason grimaced, then sighed. “No.  I didn’t.” And he hadn’t thought much of fatherhood at all, thinking that all a father was good for was being disappointed that you hadn’t lived up to the person they wanted you to be. “I didn’t know—I didn’t know you could love like that,” he admitted finally. He looked past her, at the house. “Without boundaries. Willing to sacrifice anything to keep him, turning yourself inside out until you didn’t even know who you were anymore.”

“Exactly,” she said, then started to walk again. He fell into step next to her. “So you get to be sad about what you lost.”

“Maybe. But—I made the right decision,” he said with a sigh. “To stop the visits. I was never going to be his father again. Staying involved — the way I was — it was only going to confuse him. It would never be enough for me. And it just made me angry. I don’t like being angry,” he muttered. “I don’t like when people see me that way.”

“Like the other day at the bar,” she said softly, and he nodded. He stopped, and they were facing each other again. “Why? Do you think you’re not allowed to have feelings?”

“No, no, it’s just—” He hesitated, considered how to put it into words. “I used to be like that after the accident. Angry, all the time. I’d lash out at anyone and everyone. At my grandmother, Emily. They didn’t deserve that, but I couldn’t stop it. I worked hard to stop being that way. To be in control.” He looked down at her, and she was looking at him. “I don’t want anyone to see me that way. Not Michael. Not you.”

“I thought we settled all of that,” Elizabeth said. “You’re not mad at me, and I’m not mad at you, remember?” she said, then dipped her head down, looked out over the water, because he did, indeed, remember when they’d settled it, and she’d touched him. He swallowed hard.

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Good,” she said, her voice just a bit shaky. “Because you’re not perfect and neither am I.” She fell silent, and he followed her gaze as the moon rose high over the water, the reflection flickering across the horizon, but the rest of the world inky dark. “It’s really beautiful here, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Jason looked at her as she continued to look at the moon, and wished he were anyone else, someone more deserving. “Yeah, it is.”

Written in 63 minutes.

---

April 2000

“I knew it wouldn’t stay quiet forever,” Sonny muttered, finishing the last of the bourbon and sliding the empty tumbler across the bar towards Luke. “He hasn’t bothered you yet because he knows—”

“Bothering me is bothering you and I don’t think he’s ready to take that on just yet. But no doubt, all this peace we’ve had for the last year is Moreno biding his time. You keep your guard up.” Luke finished his own drink — whiskey for him. “And be ready. Because once he comes for me, you’re not far behind.”

“No, that’s for sure. I’ll keep in touch.”

Sonny stopped at the door let Lucky pass by. “Lucky,” he said, politely. “How are things?”

Lucky said nothing, sparing only a dirty look for his former employer, and headed inside to the bar. Sonny shook his head. It was a shame really, the kid had had such potential once.

“You fix that snag your mother had over at Deception?” Luke said, tossing the used glasses in the green plastic tub. “She seemed panicked on the phone—”

“Bug in the inventory software. It’s fine.” Lucky perched on the stool. “Can I get one of those?” he asked when his father passed by the line of taps.

“No, you’re not twenty-one. And it’s noon. What’s the problem, Cowboy? Why do you want to drink away your sorrows this early?”

Lucky squinted, then dragged a hand down the side of his face. “Nikolas. He was at the office, and barely looked at me. He and Emily are still pretending I don’t exist.”

“Well, that happens sometimes in a breakup. People choose sides.” Luke set a bottle of water down in front of his son. “I know it hurts because Emily was your friend first, and the Dark Prince is family of a sort, but you need to stop letting all of that bring you down. Didn’t you say you were going to register for classes next fall?”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s just—” Lucky rolled the bottle in his hands. “I apologized to all of them. Months ago. None of them wanted to listen. Elizabeth—she got to them all—”

“I don’t know about any of that—”

“She made it sound like I committed genocide instead of standing her up—I just wanted to make her remember me, Dad. To think about me once a in while. Is that so bad?”

Luke hesitated. “I don’t know if I’m the person to be asking for advice, Cowboy. All I can say is actions have consequences. Elizabeth decided she didn’t like what you did, and that’s her right. Emily and Nikolas will come around. Give it some more time.”

—

It was stupid to be nervous. Stupid to be standing in front of the entrance to the garage, planning what she wanted to say over and over and over again. Two months ago, she wouldn’t have even blinked at walking in, and there was nothing about that week on the island that should change any of it.

Elizabeth bit her lip, looked at at the tickets in her hands. It had been a months since they’d come home, and she hadn’t seen Jason once, not even in at Kelly’s. Though that wasn’t really his fault — she was working a lot of the opening shifts so she could spend all her free time in the studio at school, prepping for the show.

Maybe she’d go in, see him and it would all be the way it used to be. No nerves. Just Emily’s older brother who’d gotten her out of some jams this year—

And who she’d walked on the beach with in the moonlight, and had touched his bare chest—

Shut up. You’re insane. Just open the damn door.

Elizabeth finally tugged the front door open and walked through the lobby to the garage bay where she could hear the sounds of metal clanking. There was a four-door sedan parked with its hood up. One tanned hand curled over the edge of the car, and she could make out a gray t-shirt.

“Jason?”

The hand jerked off the car, and Jason appeared a minute later, his eyes just a bit wide—startled, she realized when he immediately reached for the rag in the back pockets of his jeans, started to wipe his hands. “Elizabeth. Hey. Uh. Hey.”

“Hey. Sorry for, um, just dropping by like this, but I didn’t—” She bit her lip, came forward so she could see all of him, and wasn’t talking to him with a car between them. “Emily’s okay. No one’s been arrested or anything.”

“I wasn’t—I didn’t think that’s why—” Jason hesitated, seemed to avoid looking at her. “That’s good to hear.”

“Yeah, we’ve both been too busy for bar fights. Finals and everything. Um, that’s why I’m here. The art show, you know the one I talked about on the island? A-nd a few months ago?” Elizabeth asked.

“Yeah. I remember. It’s coming up, isn’t it?” Jason lowered the hood.

“Yeah. Next week. It’s—they  gave us tickets to give to family members. I just—don’t really have a lot of family. That lives here.  I have four of them, and—well, Emily and my grandmother. And Nikolas. But—” She held up the ticket. “I just wanted to invite you.”

For the first time since she’d arrived, he finally looked at her. “Me?” He sounded so surprised, and it threw her off.

“Yeah. I mean, I know you said you didn’t do anything, but the project that got me into the show—it’s—” She closed her eyes, heat spreading in her cheeks because this was going so badly. He couldn’t be making it more clear that he wasn’t interested in any of this. He could barel look at her. Just get through this and get out, she told herself. She opened her eyes, met his eyes. “I was feeling really low and just about ready to completely drop out of the whole art thing when I got that project back in December. And you told me to just go for it, because it’s not like it could get much worse, and I know that doesn’t seem like it was important. And maybe it wasn’t to you. But it made a huge difference.” She stepped towards him. “You don’t have to go. I know it’s not your kind of thing. But I needed you to know that I don’t know if I’d be anywhere near ready for this kind of thing if you hadn’t given me just that little push six months ago.”

“You did all the work,” Jason said, his eyes softer now. “You’re giving me too much credit again.”

“Standing on this side of things, it doesn’t feel that way. Plus, I started three of the pieces on the island, and that wouldn’t have happened without you.” She bit her lip. “We haven’t really had a chance to talk since we got home, but I was thinking—”

“You know, you really need to hire someone out front—” The loud, brash voice cut in and Elizabeth turned around to see Carly strolling around the corner. The blonde stopped short, shoved her sunglasses up onto her head. “What is this, a daycare? What are you doing here?”

“What do you want, Carly?” Jason asked, shoving the rag into his back pocket.

Carly ignored his question, her brown eyes still focused on Elizabeth. “Aren’t you dating my cousin?”

“Your cousin—Lucky?” Elizabeth said. She furrowed her brow. “No. What does that have to do with anything?”

Carly just made a face, fisted her hands at her hips. “Oh, the innocent act. Please, I invented that. What are you doing here?” she demanded.

Bewildered, Elizabeth looked back to Jason who remained silent. “Nothing,” she said finally. She laid the ticket down on the hood of the car. “I have to go anyway.”

Carly darted forward, snatched up the ticket before Jason could grab it. “You’re inviting him to some rinky-dink art show at a college?” She snorted, her eyes sparkling with malevolent glee. “Oh, this is amazing. Is this what passes for flirting these days?” she asked Jason, the ticket fluttering in her hand.  “What an absolute child you are. It’s almost sweet.”

“Knock it off, Carly,” Jason said, but it was too little, too late. And it wasn’t exactly the ringing defense Elizabeth might have wanted.  She wanted to snatch the ticket from the acerbic blonde’s hand but there was no point.

She’d come here with that ticket to see if maybe she’d been insane on the island, and she’d received her answer.

“Come or don’t,” she told Jason, who’d gone back to not looking at her. “I’ll get out of your way now.”

And then she left.

—

The second Jason heard the front door to the garage swing shut, he snatched the ticket from Carly. “What is your problem?” he demanded shoving it in his front pocket.

“Come on, Jase—” She came up behind him, encircled his torso, but he shrugged her off. “I know you’re mad because this is taking too long—”

“I’m mad because you keep showing up here like something is going to change. How many different ways do I have to say no?” he demanded. Tears shimmered in her eyes, but she then laughed — that low, chuckle that always made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

“It’s that girl, isn’t it? That child. You’re actually thinking about her. What, you embarrassed to be seen with me?” she demanded.

“I’m not doing this with you. Every damn time—” Jason shook his head, headed for the sink to wash his hands.

“Well, you’re not going to have to worry about that one.” Carly lounged against the counter next to him. “Didn’t you see the way she looked before she practically ran out of here? You know, you’re great in bed, but you still know jack shit about men—”

“Go home to your husband,” he said pointedly.

“She looked at you, practically begging you to save her from the big, bad, mean Carly. And what did you do?” She lifted her brows. “I mean, were you trying to run her off?”

No, not like that — “Go home,” he said again. “My life is none of your business.”

“Then again, you could probably reel her back in. Mealy mouthed girls like her are always looking for the hero.” Carly’s fingers danced across his chest. He grabbed her wrist, shoved her back. “She can’t give you what I can.”

“No, she can’t,” Jason said bluntly, and Carly’s lips started to curve in a smile. “That’s not a compliment, Carly. There’s nothing you’ve given me that I want. So for the last time, get out.”

“Fine. Fine. You stick with your little princesses who only want to flirt with the dark side. Eventually  you’re realize I’m the only one you need, and you’ll be back.” She stormed out, the slam of the door harsher this time.

Jason exhaled slowly, then slid his hand in his pocket to draw the ticket back out, looked at it. She’d been so nervous trying to explain why she was here, why she was inviting him. He didn’t understand how something he’d said in passing all those months ago could matter that much, but he respected that she felt like it did.

And he wanted to go, even if he wouldn’t really understand the paintings she’d done. She’d be happy and smiling, the way she used to before Lucky had hurt her. He missed the way her eyes sparkled when she was full of excitement. But if he went there, it would be just for her. And she’d know that. And maybe he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from seeing her again. He’d avoided Kelly’s since they came home, wanting the distance. Needing it, afraid that the way he was starting to feel could be seen on his face.

The last thing Jason — or Elizabeth needed — was people in his life thinking he had someone that mattered. The wrong people.

He slid the ticket under a pile of papers on the desk in his office. He’d made choices a long time ago that limited what he could do, what he could have, and he was going to have to live with that.

—

“Emily,” Elizabeth hissed. “Do you see that blonde coming towards us?”

Her best friend twisted her head. “Yeah. The one with eyes like a shark?”

“Great. You’re looking right at her. Never go into surveillance. You’d be terrible. Yes. That’s Ava Jerome.”

“Jerome? Like Jerome Galleries?” Emily’s eyes widened. “And she’s—” She closed her mouth when the woman in question moved into earshot, her piercing blue eyes taking in the wall behind Elizabeth.

“You’re the artist?” she asked Elizabeth. She held out her hand. “Ava Jerome.”

Elizabeth shook it, hoping her glee was under wraps. “I’ve been in both your Port Charles and New York galleries. Your exhibits are amazing.”

“Yes, I’ve been known to have an eye for talent—” Ava murmured, her attention on the paintings now. “Francesca is an old friend.”

Francesca— “Dr. Watts?” Elizabeth squeezed out.

“Yes. She always send the names of her most promising students to me. She knows I like to be on the ground floor with new talent. These—” Ava lifted her chin. “These are quite good. How old are you?”

“I’ll be twenty in November.”

“So nineteen. And yet—” she gestured at the top left painting — the sketch of that night in the park that she’d done in oils. “There’s a depth that seems far more mature. Tragic, almost. The use of the red here—” Her finger moved to another painting — a beach under the moonlight, with just dim figures at the edge of the waterline. “And this one…it could be insipid, or sentimental. But it’s not—there’s a yearning with the shadows and perspective you’ve chosen—” Ava looked at Elizabeth. “Francesca said that you’d held yourself in too much, and she wasn’t sure you’d ever be able to let go. I’m glad she was wrong.”

“I—I’m so…I’m sorry. I’m having trouble forming words, Ms. Jerome. Standing in front of you, and you’re talking about my art. It’s just—it feels like a fever dream,” Elizabeth admitted. “I’m sorry. I can’t really wrap my head around it.”

“I’m used to that. When you’ve finished exhibiting these, come to the gallery. We’ll work out a commission contract.” Ava stepped back, held out her business card. “I have some buyers in mind that would be interested.”

“Buyers. You—you want to put my work in your gallery?”

“I know what I like, what sells, and I don’t waste time. Call me, Miss Webber. I think we could make each other a lot of money.”

“Holy shit,” Emily breathed when Ava had walked away. “Holy shit, Elizabeth. You’re going to be in the Jerome Gallery.”

“I—” Elizabeth pressed a fist to her heart, stared down at the business  card in her hand, with Ava’s cell phone number written in blue ink on the back. “I’m not sure this is really happening.”

“Oh, there’s Nikolas. He’s not going to believe this!” Emily danced off to greet their friend. Nikolas was happy for her and so were her grandmother and Juan. Bobbie had bought tickets and she’d been overjoyed.

But all night, Elizabeth kept looking towards the door. She’d known he probably wouldn’t show up, but she’d hoped she’d misunderstood that horrible day in the garage, but when the night started to wind down and there was still no Jason, Elizabeth chided herself for ever thinking she was more than just his little sister’s best friend.

Written in 59 minutes.

---

May 2000

Jason dropped Emily’s keys in her hand. “You know, one day, you’re going to remember to get the oil changed without me reminding you.”

Emily rolled her eyes, tossed her purse through the open window of the car her brother had finished. “Please. You love nagging me to be responsible. If you didn’t worry about me, who would you even talk to?”

Jason rolled his eyes, headed for the sink to wash up.

“That’s a serious question, by the way. I gave you a year to get over Robin, but now we’re six months past that—” She leaned against the counter. “We need to get you back into the dating world.”

“No, we do not,” Jason said. He switched off the water, reached for the towel. “When are you moving out of the dorm? I’ll make sure I’m available.”

“Jase, it’s May 25. I moved out of the dorm two weeks ago. Don’t worry, you don’t have to move us back in, either because Mom and Dad are finishing up the pool house this month, and Liz and I will be studying in luxury next year.”

“You—you moved out already?” Jason looked over at the calendar hanging on the wall, winced when he realized it was still April. The days had started to run together. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Well, Liz thought we’d been bothering you a lot this year, and I thought maybe she had a small point after you bailed us out of jail over break and ruined your business trip.” Emily shrugged. “We asked Nikolas and Juan, and got it all handled. See? Sometimes I can take care of myself without you,” she teased.

“She—she said you were bothering me too much?” Jason asked, laying the towel back along the counter, thinking of the ticket that was still sitting beneath a pile of papers he never moved. Had she been hurt he hadn’t shown up? Was that why she hadn’t asked him to help them move out? He exhaled slowly. “You—you’re never bothering me, Em, you know that.”

“I know, but I also know you’ve got a life of your own, and you can’t be running to my rescue or taking care of me forever.”

“I like taking care of you,” Jason muttered, heading for his office, still unsettled by Elizabeth thinking she’d been bothering him. “You’re my sister.” The only person left in Port Charles he even gave a damn about other than Sonny, though that was a stark realization he didn’t particularly like much. It was no one’s fault but his own. One by one, the small group of friends Jason had built up had gone away. Lily had died, Robin was gone. He barely ever spoke to Luke or Mike these days. He’d made sure to push Carly away. The only person who’d come into his life since he’d lost Michael had been Elizabeth.

And she was gone now, too. Which was what he wanted, wasn’t it? No one in his life the world could hurt. Only Emily, whose last name kept her protected.

“I wish you’d let me take care of you sometimes, not that I really know how to. You won’t even come out when I invite you anymore. The last time I got you to go anywhere was dinner on the island.” Emily folded her arms. “I just—I worry about you. You think I don’t know how hard things have been since you gave up visitation rights?”

“I don’t want you to worry about that—”

Emily threw up her hands. “Oh my God, you’re so frustrating sometimes! Elizabeth was right — you love running to other people’s rescue, but God forbid you let them do the same.”

“Wait, what are you talking about? What did Elizabeth say?” Jason demanded. Emily stopped at her car, squinting at him. “I don’t need to be rescued—”

“You think because the house isn’t burning down or someone isn’t firing a gun around you, you don’t need help? You’ve closed yourself up like a clam this last year, Jase. You don’t go out, you don’t go to Luke’s, you don’t even go talk to Sonny unless you have to. You sit in this garage and the only time you step out of it is when I ask you for something.” She pressed her lips together. “Why weren’t you at Elizabeth’s show?”

“What?” Jason blinked, confused by the change in topic. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t do that. Don’t pretend she didn’t invite you. I know she had four free tickets. And she didn’t give one to Juan or Bobbie. She gave the last one to you, didn’t she?”

“Em—”

“It was amazing, by the way. She was mobbed by people all night, and the owner of the best gallery in town and one of the best in New York wants to show her pieces this summer. You used to show up for people who mattered, Jason. You went to the Nurse’s Ball for Robin even though you’d rather gnawed your foot off. You went to parties when Sonny and Brenda asked you, too. You used to show up, and now the only way I can get you out of this place is to ask for your help.”

She opened her car door, gripped the top of it. “You think I’m stupid or blind, don’t you? I’m just the stupid little idiot who got addicted to drugs and tried to fly off a roof.”

“No—” Startled, Jason came forward, not entirely sure how this conversation had twisted into an argument or why his sister had tears in her eyes. “No, Em—”

“She’d kill me for saying this, but she watched for you all night. And I saw the way you looked at her on the island. I switched on the light, Jason. Do you think I didn’t see how close the two of you were standing?” Emily demanded. “I pretended not to because it was too late to go back inside. But I’m not an idiot.”

Jason just stared at her, took a deep breath. “Em—”

“But maybe it scared you. Maybe you can’t let anyone in after what happened with Robin and Michael. But one day, you’re going to wake up, and you’re really going to be alone, and it’ll be your fault.”

—

“You’ll be glad to get your sewing room back,” Elizabeth told her grandmother, unpinning the last of the posters from the wall, rolling it up.

“I admit, I was looking forward to having you home this summer.” Audrey came forward, slid an arm around Elizabeth’s shoulder. “But I also can’t blame you girls for taking Alan and Monica up on their offer.”

“I thought about refusing it,” Elizabeth admitted, sitting on the edge of the bed. “You know, it was one thing to look the other way when Mr. Quartermaine got me into Emily’s dorm because she’d already paid for her housing, but—”

“They were going to do this for Emily anyway. And now you won’t have the extra burden of moving in and out of that dorm every year.” Audrey sat next to her. “I have to admit, darling, now that your first year is behind you, with all that’s happened — I’m a little grateful you didn’t go to New York. I know you had your heart set on it.”

“I did. And it felt like the end of the world. God, I cried for days, you know?” She went to her closet, removed the old poster she’d designed last year — The Lucky and Elizabeth Life Plan.   She ran her fingers down the red-heart, some of the glitter coming loose. “Now, I think — thank God. Because I’d probably still be dating Lucky. I know that’s not what you mean—”

“It’s precisely what I meant. Going off and making all your dreams tied to him — well, I couldn’t say it then, Elizabeth, but I worried that you were settling for him because he was the first boy you’d ever loved. And that you didn’t trust yourself to explore and find out if there could be anything else. I wanted you to have a little life experience. I think of the traveling I did as a stewardess, and of course, in Vietnam as a nurse—I would have supported you, darling. But I’m glad you came to this realization on your own.”

“I didn’t even realize it was settling, you know? I didn’t—I didn’t realize that you could be with someone so much, love them as much as I loved Lucky, and that you could still not know them. Or—” Elizabeth set the poster down. “I look at that now, and I think how close I came to accepting what Lucky called love. But he didn’t love me, not all the way. Not all the pieces of me. He didn’t even like me very much before the rape.”

“Oh, honey.”

“No, it’s…it’s time to really face that. He liked feeling important. He liked that I depended on him. That I couldn’t sleep without him. That I needed him to feel safe. And I thought hat meant he loved me. But he liked being a hero.” Elizabeth looked away, towards the window, in the direction of the waterfront and the garage. She certainly had a type, she thought. “And he didn’t like me very much once I didn’t need him anymore.”

“I know it hurt very much to lose him, my darling—” Audrey took Elizabeth’s hand. “But you stood up and demanded respect. I’m sorry he hurt you, but I’m proud of how you handled it. You’re so strong. I wish you hadn’t needed to be, but—that’s life.”

“I really felt like it was the end of the world, but you know, after a few weeks, I realized how much lighter I felt. I didn’t feel guilty about not calling him, not checking in, not making time for him. Because every time I did, it was just so he could explain how I was doing something wrong. I was helping Emily too much, I was spending too much time at work. I was smiling at Jason the wrong way. “But sometimes, sometimes, Gram, I miss being in love. Just a little bit. Not the way it was at the end, but at the beginning. When I really felt happy. When I believed he loved me. Sometimes I think—” Her eyes stung and she stared down at her hands. “Sometimes I still think no one ever really will. Not that way. No one will want to stay.”

“Love will find you, my darling, as long as you keep being brave and putting yourself into the world to receive it. It’s hard to do that, to be open to it. Sometimes, I think your grandfather had to pry the door open after I’d been hurt so badly.” Audrey smiled at her. “But don’t give up. You’ll have your heart broken and mended many times over before it’s said and done.”

“Many times, Gram?” Elizabeth joked, swiping at her tears, trying to smile. “How many boyfriends do you think I’m gonna have?”

“Your grandfather and I broke each other’s hearts many times before we were finally able to to stick the landing. That’ll happen, too. The very person who shatters you might have the glue you need to piece it back together, given a little time and understanding.” Audrey paused. “But if you love me, dear, please don’t let Lucky Spencer anywhere near the crafts table.”

Elizabeth laughed, then leaned her head against her grandmother’s shoulder. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

—

The argument with his sister still lingered with Jason days later and he didn’t like the way they’d left it. He didn’t like the way she’d talked about his life, like it was empty and devoid of meaning just because he kept to himself. And she was wrong — he still went places. He still showed up.

And determined to prove that to her—and himself—the next time Sonny suggested Jason come with him to meet with Luke about Moreno, Jason surprised them both by agreeing even though it was at the bar after the dinner rush.

Jason slid on the stool, ordered a beer and settled in to wait for Sonny and Luke. It was quiet — the middle of the week without a musical act meant it was just for the regulars. This wasn’t so bad, he thought. He’d spent a lot time here over the years, hadn’t he? His first job parking cars, and then doing errands when Sonny did most of work out of this place.

That was less true these days, he admitted, taking a long pull from the bottle. But maybe he should go out more. A beer at Luke’s. A game of pool at Jake’s. No harm in any of that—

“I thought they picked up the trash this morning.”

Jason’s shoulders tensed and he twisted to see Lucky behind him, smirking. He’d been able to avoid the little bastard since that day at Kelly’s when he’d wanted to shove him in the lake, and had hoped to keep that streak going. Behind him, Sonny and Luke had come in and were shedding their coats at the entrance.

“Well, look at what the cat dragged in,” Luke said, with a warmer smile than his son’s. He sent the son in question a quick look. “When Sonny said you were joining us tonight, I thought about breaking out the good crystal. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Jason almost hunched his shoulders. Okay, maybe he had stayed in a little too much the last year. “Sonny said you needed to talk. I’m here.”

Lucky sauntered around the bar, poured himself a glass of water, then smirked. “No date? That’s right. PCU is out for the semester. You’ll have to go pick up the next one at Jake’s. Though, you know, I bet Lizzie has an ID if you’re not already too tired of her bullshit—”

Jason’s beer went rolling when he reached across the bar, grabbed Lucky by the shirt, dragged him up so that their faces were close. Lucky’s blue eyes were wide open, and his breathing started in little pants. Good. He was scared. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sonny just sigh and Luke wince. The noise in the rest of the bar went low, almost quiet.

“Say it again,” Jason said, in a low tone he only reserved for men whose faces he was about to rearrange. “Go ahead.”

“She likes it when you come to her rescue,” Lucky managed. “But the second she doesn’t need you, you’re trash. If you don’t already know that, you will. You’ll be her roadkill, just like me.”

Jason’s fist tightened in Lucky’s shirt, and his other curled at his side. It took everything he had not to let it fly. He shoved Lucky back, releasing him at the last second so that the younger man went flying into the back of the bar.

“The only reason you’re not unconscious is because I respect your father too much to leave blood on the floor. You talk to me again like that, you talk about Elizabeth that way to anyone and I find out, they’ll be the last words you say.”

Jason stalked out of the bar, not sparing Luke or Sonny another glance.

“Well—” Luke scratched his temple. “Can’t say I didn’t see that coming—”

“Shut up—” Shaken, Lucky climbed to his feet. “He’s just pissed because he knows I’m right—”

“You got a death wish or something?” Sonny wanted to know. “You’re still running your mouth? Luke. Man. You gotta talk to him.”

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll reschedule this. It can hold. Sorry.” When Sonny headed for the door, Luke turned back to his son. “I don’t get this. I really don’t. This is Elizabeth we’re talking about. Elizabeth. Everything you’ve been through. She adored you. You worshiped her. I don’t get how you go from that—”

“Everything I thought she was just a lie,” Lucky bit out. “She used me to make herself feel better, and now she’s back to her old self. And if Jason knows what’s good for him, he’ll run as fast as he can in the other direction.”

Written in 59 minutes.

---

May 2000

“Before you go roaring off into the night—” Sonny laid a hand over the ignition, stopping Jason from twisting the key. “Maybe I need an update as to why you’re still throwing punches over this girl.”

“I didn’t punch him,” Jason said, then grimaced when he heard the sullen note in his tone. He dragged a hand down his face. “I wanted to. But I didn’t.”

“And I’m sure Luke’s grateful not to have the dental bill. So, Elizabeth—that’s the one you like as person and Emily’s friend.” When Jason just glared at him, Sonny lifted his brows. “That was the company line back in February the first time we had this conversation. Then you wanted me to fire Marco down on the island because he wasn’t nice to her—”

“That’s not what he did—”

“You shoved him against a wall, and I think Manuel mentioned you’d put Armando’s kid against a wall, too.”

“And you would have done the same if you—” Jason stopped, took a deep breath. “Do you have a point?”

“It’s not like I’m a gossip columnist, Jason. You’re the one that pointed out that Lucky talking crap about you and this girl could get into the ears of the wrong people. Which we definitely don’t want if Moreno’s starting to get antsy. That scene you just caused? People are gonna wonder why you’re putting your hands on Luke’s kid. And they’re going to remember the rumors from a few months ago. You keep this up, you’re just making sure everyone knows this girl matters—”

“Elizabeth.”

“What?”

“Her name is Elizabeth. Not ‘this girl’.” Irritated with himself, Jason scowled. “Never mind. Can I go?”

“No. Because you’re still not answering the question. You don’t want anyone to know about her, you’ve got a funny way of showing it—”

“There’s nothing to know, Sonny.”

“Would you like there to be something to know?” When Jason didn’t answer, his friend just sighed. “Fine. There’s nothing to know. Then act like it. Stop shoving people around when they disrespect her. People who don’t matter don’t require a response.”

“I never said she didn’t—” Jason closed his mouth, hating that Sonny had trapped him. “I never said she didn’t matter,” he said.

“Then step up and do something about it, and we’ll handle it. You can have a life, Jase. No one ever said you couldn’t.”

“I can’t do that, so just drop it—”

“Why can’t you do it? She matters enough to punch people but not enough to be with her? I’m sure she loves that—”

“Why go through it all again when it’ll just end like everything else?” Jason cut in.

“You can’t know that—”

“Yeah. Yeah, I can. Because I’ve watched it happen over and over. You’d do it all again?” he demanded of Sonny. “You’d go through it again? Lily, Brenda, Hannah?”

“Hannah was a fed, so that one—” Sonny scratched his chin. “Look, I’m not the example you want, Jase. Look at your grandmother. She loves that dumbass she married. Go be someone’s dumbass. Maybe this girl—sorry, Elizabeth,” he said, when Jason just shot him another look. “Maybe Elizabeth has a thing for idiots who can’t get out of their own way.”

“Sometimes it lasts, sure. But not in this world, Sonny. You know that. And not for me. She’s—” He hesitated, looked straight head, past the parking lot, to the lights of the waterfront. “She’s an artist. Her work is going to be on the walls of galleries in New York. I’m not doing anything that messes that up for her. Or messes her up. So just drop it.”

“Fine. But this halfway shit, where you’re a ticking time bomb if someone so much as says a word against her, that can’t keep happening. You know that. If she’s better off without you, then make that choice. And stick with it. ”

—

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose, held up a pair of shorts. “Did I really wear these in public?”

“You absolutely did, and I hated you for having the guts and the legs to pull it off.”

She glanced over, grinned at Emily standing in the doorway. “Hey. What’s up? Did I know you were coming over?” She looked over at the clock on her night stand. “It’s almost nine.”

“Yeah, sorry. I knew you were going to be up packing for the move, and I just—I got a call from a friend, and I knew I had to tell you about it. I can’t keep putting off this conversation.”

“Uh oh,” Elizabeth tossed aside the tiny shorts, sat on the edge of her bed. “What’s wrong?”

“I wanted to talk to you weeks ago, but there was never a right moment, and you didn’t bring it up either, so I figured maybe I should just stay out of it. But then I got in a fight with Jason this week and the call I got? Logan Duncan was at Luke’s tonight, and Jason practically threw Lucky into the wall. And people are remembering that Lucky was saying you’d—”

“That I’d cheated on him with Jason. Yeah, I remember.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I’m sure Lucky said something awful. I don’t need to know what—”

“Logan didn’t hear that part. He just thought I should know. That you should know. That all died down really fast last winter, but it could get stirred up again. But I knew I was out of time to tell you about the fight I had with Jason when I picked up my car the other day.”

“Em, maybe we don’t—”

“I saw you. That night. On the island,” Emily said. She pulled out the desk chair, sat down. “When I flipped on the light, and you guys were on the terrace. You had your hand on his chest—”

“Oh my god—” Elizabeth pressed her hands to her face, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks. “Em—”

“And Jason’s hand was on yours and he was going to kiss you—”

“He was not, okay—”

“Elizabeth. I know what it looks like when a guy’s leaning in. But it was too late. I no sooner took in the whole thing and you were springing apart like you’d been slapped. I kept thinking you’d say thing, but you didn’t. So I didn’t bring it up. But then I yelled at him today, and I sort of told him I saw it.”

“Oh, I think I want to die.” Elizabeth leaned over, burying her face in her hands. “I might actually expire right here in this spot.”

“I was just so mad at him, but I was trying not to be. I thought, well, he’s going to explain things to me if I set it up. I started dropping hints that you were upset about the whole art show thing—”

“You did not—” Elizabeth jerked back up, horrified. “Emily!”

“I was like, no, we didn’t ask you to help us move because Liz thought you were bothering us, and he was not happy about you thinking that—”

“No, this is the part where I die because if I don’t, I’m going to murder you—”

“But he just refused to bite, and I kept like pushing at him, until I lost my patience because he’s just wrapped himself up tight in that stupid garage like he’s buried alive, and I can’t stand, Liz. I just can’t. He didn’t come to your art show, and that’s like, not Jason. Not just because I think he wants to jump your bones—”

“Could you not—”

“But Jason—he shows up when people matter. And do not tell me you don’t matter. Because you do. He shows up. He went all the way to the dorm to talk to you about Lucky, didn’t he? And you said he was amazing about that. He could have done the bare minimum. But he took the time to make sure you were okay.”

“Yeah, I know—”

“And the island, okay, I know you guys spent time together that I don’t know about—”

“Nothing happened—”

“Liz. I watched you watch the door all night, and how hurt you were when he didn’t show up. So I got mad, and then I got worried. I’m telling you that Jason not coming that night, that sent off alarm bells. And I started to think about how he never goes anywhere anymore. He barely comes to Kelly’s—”

“Especially not since we got home,” Elizabeth murmured. She looked at Emily. “I thought maybe I was just missing him because I was working on the show, but you’re always there, too. And he hasn’t come in since I picked up more hours.”

“He’s avoiding you. But he’s avoiding me unless I specifically go to him for help. And I bet if I asked Luke or Sonny, they barely see him either. Don’t you think it’s weird that every time you went to the garage, he was there? It’s like he’s sealed himself up like a mummy.”

“Em, I think you’re reading too much into this. He didn’t come to my art show and he’s avoiding me. I’m the common denominator. Whatever you think you saw, it’s not real. It’s not—”

“No, it was. Losing Robin the way he did, and then Michael—back to back—it’s like it messed with him. And Carly—that shrew is always around reminding him why he has no one else in his life.”

Elizabeth sighed. “She was there that day. When I invited him. She saw the ticket, and she—” Her mouth tightened, and she looked down at her hands, picked at the chipped nail polish. “She laughed. She saw right through me, which I hate. She called me a child, accused me of flirting with him. And he didn’t even say anything, so maybe that’s all he sees—”

“Oh, he’s such an asshole,” Emily muttered. “Look, you don’t know the dynamic between Jason and Carly, and man, I wish I didn’t. But he’s never going to cut her off because of Michael. The thing is—”

“The thing is that it doesn’t matter, Em. It doesn’t.”

“If Jason had stuck up for you, if he’d given Carly the slightest hint that you were anything but my friend, she’d have gone for blood. She’s like a dog with a bone.”

“What exactly do you want me to do with this, Em? Do you want me to admit that I have feelings for your brother? Sure. Why pretend I don’t? But even if he did have feelings for me, which I’m not convinced—he’s clearly decided how he wants to handle them. And that means avoiding me. I’m not chasing him.”

“No, I didn’t think that you should. I guess—” Emily hesitated. “We’re coming at this from different places, different goals—I love my brother. We worked really hard to get to this point where we’re family. It was hard for him after the accident. He was nothing but impulse and feeling, and he had to relearn how to control his temper. To control himself. And sometimes I think he learned too well. He shuts down now when things are too much, and he’s doing that now, and I can see him doing it, and I hate it because he’s so amazing and he deserves the world, and that bitch broke him—” She faltered, plucked out the tissues when Elizabeth handed her the box.

“I could see him doing it almost as soon as he let Michael go, so I tried to stop it. You know, I asked him to help us move in to the dorms, and then he helped us with Juan that day, and I was really happy when I saw him reaching out to you, because it was something, you know? And then we were on the island, and the night we went to dinner, and you guys were talking and laughing, and I just—I got a little invested because who better to bring out the amazing sweet and funny guy Jason really is than my amazing funny and sweet best friend—”

“Em—”

“And that’s not fair to you, I know that. You’re right. You’re so right. You shouldn’t have to wait around while Jason gets his head together. I just—I think he’s going to regret to not taking this chance, and I hate that. And I’m sorry, I never should have brought you into that fight with him. I just couldn’t stand it anymore.”

“It’s okay. It is.” Elizabeth hesitated. “I’m not going to tell you what he’s said specifically, but I know that what happened with Michael weighs on him.” She thought about that night on the beach, the sadness wrapped in his words about loving someone to point of losing yourself. Loving someone without boundaries. “But if you love him, you’ll give him the space to handle this in his own way. Maybe he is isolating himself so that nothing else can hurt him that way. I know what that’s like. Getting angry at him because he can’t heal on your schedule isn’t really fair, either.”

Emily crumpled up the tissue, tossed it in the trash. “I know. And I’ll apologize to him. You’re right. Which is another reason I’m rooting for you guys. Because that’s exactly the kind of advice Jason gives.”

“Em—”

“What if I do it quietly and promise not to meddle?” Emily asked hopefully. “You know, just cheer you on from the sidelines?”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Whatever you want, Em—now, are you going to help me finish cleaning out this closet or not?”

——

Jason should have just gone straight home after leaving Sonny in the parking lot at Luke’s, but he’d taken a ride out on the cliff road which didn’t really clear his mind since he just remembered taking Elizabeth up there.

And he hadn’t wanted to head back to the penthouse, with the empty rooms and the sound echoing off the walls because he’d barely furnished it. So he went to the garage because there was always something to do there.

He switched off the light in the office, thinking maybe he should go through paperwork and invoices and run the numbers. That kind of thing usually distracted him.

But of course, the first pile of papers he moved were the ones sitting on top of the ticket he’d shoved out of sight weeks ago. Port Charles University Annual Art Exhibition. Admit One.

He’d stayed away, telling himself that he needed to put distance between himself and Elizabeth, which was true. Like Sonny said, he had to make a choice and stick with it. Going wouldn’t have helped that cause.

But Emily wasn’t wrong either. This had been important to Elizabeth. He could still remember the way she’d smiled that day in Kelly’s, practically shoving the assignment feedback from her professor in Jason’s face, her eyes sparkling with happiness because she’d finally unlocked whatever that professor had wanted. He’d hated the way that light had gone out when Lucky had arrived, had wanted to shove the little bastard through a window for making her sad.

So what was Jason going to do to himself knowing he’d done the same? He turned the little strip of blue paper in his hands, flipped it back to look at the text again. He should have gone. Distance could have waited until afterward. And she hadn’t done a damned thing to earn the disappearing act. He owed her, at the very least, an explanation.

He was just afraid if he saw her again, if he tried to explain it the way he had to Sonny, he wouldn’t find the words. He’d do something stupid like touch her mouth or her hand, and he’d be right back where he started.

Jason slid the ticket in the drawer and went back to the invoices because at least two plus two always equaled four, a certainty the rest of his life  seemed to lack these days.

Written in 76 minutes.

---

May 2000

“Where’s your lesser half?” Luke asked, setting a bottle of Rolling Rock in front of Jason. “He too good for me?”

“Dealing with vendors at the warehouse.” Jason reached for the bottle. “He’s been doing all the paperwork down there since we opened last year—”

“Are you trying to invite the feds into the business?” Luke smirked, then poured himself a tumbler of whiskey. “You still pretending you’re just a garage mechanic?”

He wished he was just a mechanic, Jason thought, taking a long pull. “You said you had something about Moreno?”

Luke took the hint, sipped his drink. “Can’t prove anything which is why I said it could hold off a few days. People talk, they gossip, and I keep my ear to the ground. And the word is that Moreno is getting tired of the ceasefire. He’s not happy he’s been limited to just a few clubs and what’s left of the Courtland street market. It seems that he thinks you did him dirty when you sold out.”

“I—I didn’t—”

“Now, I know that, and so does everyone else. You had a kid to think about at the time, and Vega was more than happy to broker that deal to keep the bloodshed to a minimum. But you threw in with Sonny to get the territory back. Makes you look like a welsher.” Luke lifted a brow. “So don’t be surprised if when Moreno comes for you both, he’s gonna start with you and go harder.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Jason asked.

“I think I don’t know what goes on in your head these days. No one does. You and me, we used to talk. But maybe you think since you tried to murder my kid, I’m not still an ally.”

Jason hesitated, then exhaled. “If you’re looking for an apology—”

“Are you kidding? No. He’s not coming around the club anymore. I’ve told him about mouthing off to Sonny and you without a good reason. Not that Elizabeth isn’t a good reason, but somehow I doubt you schemed to break them up.”

“I don’t want to talk about this—” Jason started to shove the bottle back, preparing to leave, but Luke held out a hand.

“Then I’ll talk and you do what you do best and keep quiet. We go back, you and me, and I know the reason my kid didn’t end up freezing to death in that damned boxcar or under the docks was because you gave him a place and a job. I’m grateful for that. I don’t know what’s gotten into him. Every time I try to talk to him, he just feeds me that bullshit about Elizabeth going back to her old self, and I just—” Luke took another drink of the whiskey, his eyes troubled. “I don’t know if he hears it, you know? If he understands what he’s really saying. Because I believe him. She’s gone back to her old self. And he doesn’t like that. He didn’t like who she was before.”

Jason dropped his eyes to the green bottle, slowly the bottle back and forth in his hands. “Emily said something like that,” he admitted reluctantly.

“It messes me up to think he preferred her after. You didn’t know her then, and that’s good. You shouldn’t have that picture in your head, but I do. I can’t stop thinking about it. He brought her to back to our place that night, and I can’t—she was just shattered. Broken.” His gaze grew distant. “Nervous, twitchy. Couldn’t look anyone in the eye. Barely could talk. Barbara did what she could, but she was a mess. But then she pulled herself together. She had to. Didn’t want Audrey to know, so she had to pretend it was all normal.”

Luke rubbed his chest, troubled. “I saw her off and on over the next few months, and she fought her way back. I don’t know much about who she was before that night, but I know who she is today, and she’s special. She…” Luke hesitated, searched for the right word. “She sparkles. I stopped by that art thing she had. Barbara dragged me, and you should have seen the way she was smiling. And then my kid goes and talks about her like she’s garbage—hell.” He finished his whiskey.

“What’s your point, Luke?”

“I don’t know why Lucky’s taking it out on you—maybe because he knows he can’t say that to her face—God, I hope he’s not talking that way to her, don’t you tell me different. I’m sorry my kid threw that away. I thought I raised him better than that, but you know, maybe that was just a dream. But if there’s a chance there’s any truth to what he’s saying, if maybe you’re looking at her—”

“I’m—”

“I just hope you know how special she is.”

Jason finished his beer, got to his feet. “Yeah. I do. I tell Sonny what you said about Moreno.”

—

It had been a fantasy to think he could just quietly go back to the way it all had been before the island. That he could just put Elizabeth back into the compartment he’d labeled Emily’s friend and lock it up tight and forget any of this had happened. Even if he could, no one else seemed ready to let him. His sister was angry at him, Sonny was treating him like an idiot, Luke was trying to give him relationship advice, and Lucky was trying to speed run a broken jaw.  He’d have to resolve this situation and actually talk to Elizabeth, even if he had to do it with his hand tied behind his back.

But since he couldn’t just show up on Audrey Hardy’s doorstep and ask to see her granddaughter, he started with his sister. Though stepping foot on the Quartermaine estate wasn’t a welcome prospect either.

“I thought I felt a shift in the force,” Emily drawled, pulling open the door to the pool house, then leaning back against the frame. “I never thought I’d get you to visit me here.”

“I know three ways out of this place that never go near the house,” Jason said, shoving his hands in his jeans. “I, uh, thought we should talk.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’ve been trying to find the way to call and apologize—” Emily stepped back, and let him in. The pool house, already absurdly large, had been completely redesigned inside with a kitchen area tucked into the corner, and a living and dining area near the front. Beyond the kitchen, there was a hallway that probably led to bedrooms.

“They really went all out,” Jason said, a bit unsure how to start all of this. Architecture and interior design seemed like the safest start. “I guess they never want you to move out.”

“That’s what Mom said. Though when she found out Liz was going to rent a studio near the docks, she wished she’d put one in here.”

“The docks?” Jason echoed. “What part?”

“Van Ness. Yeah, I know, I made the same face, but Liz doesn’t listen to anyone.” Emily closed the door. “Um, speaking of Elizabeth—well, not it’s about her, but something she said to me. I talked to her about our fight. What I told you. So that you both knew and we were all on the same page.”

Jason grimaced, dragged a hand down his face. “Em—”

“Before you start talking about how you’re not talking about it, she told me I don’t get to be angry because you’re not acting the way I want you to. That you’re dealing with things on your schedule, not mine.” Emily tipped her head. “Even with you basically standing her up at the art show—”

“That’s not—”

“It’s not that far off, Jason, and you know it,” she said quietly, and he sighed. “She invited you to something that mattered, and you never told her you wouldn’t go. Everyone went, I told you that. Except you. Even with all of that, Elizabeth took your side in the whole thing, in case that matters to you.”

“Why does there have to be sides?” Jason muttered.

“Because you’re my brother and I love you. And I’m on the side of the living. And you’re over there, pretending you don’t exist. I get to want you on this side of the line. I get to root for you and my best friend to figure out whatever this is. Because I love you both, and I think you’d be lucky to have each other. I get to have that side, Jason. But, like I said, you don’t have to want the same things I want. I wouldn’t want you to do something just to make me happy.”

Jason sat on the arm of the sofa. “You were easier to please when we first met,” he muttered.

“I know, right? All you had to do was be nice to me and my day was made.” Emily hesitated. “You get to be sad, Jase, about how things unraveled.”

His head jerked up, his eyes wary. “What?”

“You were happy with Robin and Michael. You’d left all that…stuff behind, and you had the garage. You were happy,” Emily repeated. “And then it fell apart. I don’t know how much of that was Carly, but I’m sure she’s not blameless. She came home and decided she liked the life you were building, but wasn’t exactly wildly about Robin in it.”

“Em—”

“What Robin did, the way she left, the way she told the truth—maybe the petty part of me thinks you deserved it for the lie you asked her to live. But mostly I’m just sad that she felt like that she had to break what was left of your heart on the way out the door. And then Carly accused you of kidnapping, and then you gave up visitation rights—none of that was right or fair—”

“I made that situation what it was—” Jason said. He got to his feet. “I started it, I asked Robin to lie—and I tried to get out of the country with Michael when I knew he wasn’t my son—”

“Does any of that change how much you loved him?” Emily asked, and Jason sighed. “You get to be sad,” she repeated. “You get to take as long as you need to handle this. But I reserve the right to nudge you along and remember that there’s still people who care about you. There’s a still a life to be lived.”

“I—” His throat was tight, but he forced the words out. “I know I’ve pulled away a lot this year. Longer than that. And it’s—okay, it’s part of that,” he admitted. “But not just that—”

“No, it’s getting back into business with Sonny and you worrying about people around you again. I could kill Sonny sometimes, you know. Because he had no right coming home when you were out and asking you to go back.”

“Em—”

“You’re going to say it’s because you didn’t have enough else, and sure, that’s true. But now you feel like you never get to have anything in your life. Because now we’re going talk about why you’re avoiding Elizabeth, and I’m pretty sure you’re going to say the word dangerous, and I’m going to throttle you with my bare hands when you do.”

“It’s not just the danger,” Jason said slowly, and Emily just arched a brow. “It’s not. That—that would be a choice she needed to make. If that was on the table. It’s not.”

“Okay, so if it’s not the danger, and it’s not you just generally being anti-social, then—”

“The Jerome Galleries. I know what that is. Robin took me to an opening for one of her college friends once. She told me how important it was. You told me the same thing. This woman—she has a place in New York, too, right?”

“Yeah, but—” Emily sighed. “You’re worried about her name being linked with hers. People choosing not to pay attention. Or maybe Ava Jerome won’t want the bad press. Or maybe it’ll attract the wrong kind of attention to Elizabeth’s work.” She grimaced. “I don’t have anything for that,” she muttered. “That’s a good one.”

“Okay—so there’s that. So we’re good now—”

“I also know that’s a question for Elizabeth to answer and not me,” Emily called when he started for the door. “Just like the other thing. And you know that. People get to make their own choices. Haven’t you said that for years?”

Damn her. He looked back. “Yes.”

“So it can’t be her career. It doesn’t even exist yet, though it will. And it’s not the danger. So we’re back to you being messed up from what happened before. That’s okay. You get to have your reasons, Jase. I just want you to be honest with yourself.” She crossed to a counter, scribbled something on the corner of a paper. “So that when you go have this conversation with Elizabeth, you’re prepared.”

“I—”

“Then again, she’s nicer than I am. She might just let you off the hook.” She held out the address.  “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

—

Elizabeth slid another empty canvas into the storage, then went to finish unpacking her oil paints. The light was exactly perfect here, she thought, taking a look at the lone window. It was a large one that pulled in all the morning light from the lake, but she’d need a few more lamps to brighten the corners of the room.

The knock at the door jarred her, and she looked over at it with some trepidation. There weren’t many people who had this address. She flipped the shade back, blinked when she saw Jason on the other side. Their eyes met, then Elizabeth let the shade fall back into place, and took a deep breath.

Did she have the energy for whatever this was? No. But he was here, and maybe it was just to clear the air. She finally flipped the locks and pulled the door open. “Um, hey. Hi.”

“Hey.” Jason slid his hands in his pockets. “Emily gave me the address—”

Behind her, the freshly hooked up phone rang, and Elizabeth held a finger up to Jason, and went to answer it. “Hello?”

“Hey, Liz. It’s me,” Emily said, a bit breathless. “I went back and forth on this, but I figured better to warn you. Jason might be coming by—”

“Yeah, he just got here—” She mouthed the word Emily to him and he grimaced, came in and closed the door. “Why is that a warning?”

“Um. We talked. A lot. I didn’t tell him anything you said, not specifically. Not about him. But he knows we’ve talked.”

“Ah. Got it. Okay. Thanks.” Elizabeth set the phone back on the receiver, then looked at Jason who still stood at the door, peering at the lock with a frown. “I know, it’s not great.”

“It’s useless,” he muttered. He flicked the shade with derision. “It’s a security disaster. The door’s a flimsy piece of crap, and the lock could be picked by a toddler.”

“Well, it’s a shame you weren’t around when I was looking for places.” Elizabeth went back to her box of paints. “If you wanted to have an opinion, then you needed to say so. But you don’t, do you?” She stacked the paints. “Did you come here just insult my door, or—”

“I came to apologize. About the show. Not about—I should have told you I wasn’t going.”

Her fingers stilled on the tube of color, ironically a cerulean blue she’d ordered because of his eyes. “Yeah, you should have. But that would have to mean talking to me, and you don’t really want to do that, either, do you?”

She refused to look at him, didn’t want to feel bad for being short or irritated.

“I know how important that night was to you, and I’m—I hate the idea that something I did made you unhappy for any part of it. You deserved better.”

Elizabeth squeezed her eyes closed, fighting back the tears stinging her eyes. With a careful, low breath, she turned around to look at him. He hadn’t budged from the door, his hands back in his pockets. “I wish I could tell you I didn’t even notice you weren’t there, but we both know that’s not true because Emily is annoying.” Her voice wobbled slightly on her next words, and she hated herself for it. “Why didn’t you just tell me you didn’t want to go?”

“Because it’s not true,” Jason said, and he took just a half step towards her, seemed to rock back on his heels before staying where he’d started. He swallowed hard. “I wanted to go. To be there for you.”

“But you didn’t. So it doesn’t really matter what what you wanted to do, does it?” Elizabeth folded her arms, not feeling at all victorious when he just tipped his head in quiet acceptance. “I don’t understand any of this, Jason. I don’t know what I did. It—it’s like we were friendly enough before the island, but then when we were there—” Her hands fell to her side, and she waited for him to look at her. “I felt like we…we understood each other.  But then we came back, and it all went away. You never came to Kelly’s anymore. And when I went to see you, it was like none of that happened.”

“I know,” Jason said, his voice low, a bit pained. “I’m sorry—”

“And Carly—” She forced the words out. “You let her talk to me, about me like I was nothing.” The first tear slid down her cheek and she didn’t stop it, didn’t bother to swipe at it.

His eyes changed and his expression softened, even as she could his mouth pinched. He stepped towards her, just a few steps though it still felt like the Grand Canyon had opened up between them. “I didn’t mean to do that,” he said. “I didn’t want to show her any—I knew if I said anything, it would make it worse—”

“Make what worse?” Elizabeth demanded, her voice climbing. “Why would it have been so awful to tell Carly to shut up? To tell her that my show mattered? That I mattered?”

His hands finally came out of his pockets, dragged through his hair, disheveling it. “That’s not how it works with Carly, okay? You can’t show her any weakness or she’ll make you pay for it—”

“That’s just a copout,” she bit out. “Just admit it. Admit it. You didn’t want her to know because you don’t want it to be true. That’s why you said nothing. And why you didn’t show up—because you know what’s here and you don’t want it. You don’t want me.” She strode forward, heading for the door. “Well, that’s fine. I’m not going to beg you to stay where you don’t want to be—”

He snagged her hand as she passed him, the way he had that night on the terrace—his hand just shooting out almost as if he hadn’t planned it, catching her forearm, then sliding down until his fingers laced with hers. Elizabeth looked at him, startled to see the longing in his expression.

“Every word you said is true,” he managed, “except — I do want it. I do—” He swallowed hard, and her heart started to pound. “I do want you. I just—I can’t have any of it. I can’t have you.”

Her lips parted in surprise and she looked down at their hands, at his larger one wrapped around hers, then she looked at the other hand, looked back at him. Trembling, she laid it against his heart, and felt it pounding beneath her fingers.

She lifted her gaze to his, absorbing that every word he’d just spoken to her was the absolute truth. That Jason Morgan wanted her. He wanted her. He wanted her. That night on the terrace, it had been real. And on the beach. And on the sofa. And right now. Right now—

She raised herself on her toes, and kissed him.

Written in 68 minutes.

---

May 2000

He didn’t move a muscle, frozen solid to the ground, her soft lips covering his hesitantly, her fingers trembling against his chest, pressure light, almost non-existent. And he just let it happen, half thinking she’d pull away, and he’d survive this with his sanity intact—

Until she actually did, her hand sliding slowly away from his chest, her mouth leaving his, their eyes opening at the same time, her terrified blue depths looking back at him, almost bracing herself for the rejection. He couldn’t do it, couldn’t let her keep thinking that she wasn’t exactly what he wanted.

Jason caught her hand before it fell to her side, trapping against his chest, the way he had on that long ago night that haunted him more than it should, and then he leaned down, capturing her mouth with his, sliding his other hand into her hair, his fingers sliding through the silken strands. She made a sound, soft sigh then relaxed against him. Just a gentle caress at first but when her hand reached the back of his neck, her nails scraping lightly against his skin, he let go of the hand at his chest and dragged her against him, tilting her head back to deepen the kiss. Her mouth opened, and he dove in, learning, savoring the taste of her.

Somewhere in the back of his head he knew it was too much, too fast—his jacket hit the ground, and her hands fisting in the back of his shirt—his hands were at her hips, his fingers brushing the skin left bare by the hem of her t-shirt. She shivered slightly, breaking away just for a moment, and he kissed the soft skin beneath her jaw, trailing his lips back to her mouth, and taking it again. Her hands hands were underneath shirt, scorching a path from his abdomen upwards.

Jason walked her backwards just a few steps until they came to the table up against the far wall, and then he lifted her, her arms curling around his shoulders, never breaking contact, because if he stopped kissing her now, if he let himself think too much, it would be over and this was all there could be—

But maybe she knew it, too—knew that they couldn’t keep pushing forward because in another few minutes, his shirt would be gone, and maybe hers, too, and they’d reach a point of no return that neither of them were ready for. Her kisses slowed, and he returned his hands to cup her face.

When Elizabeth finally pulled away, she didn’t go far, kissing him again, but sweetly, with only slighted parted lips, a gentle caress. “Tell me,” she whispered, stroking his cheek, easing back just enough so that their eyes could find each other. “Tell me why we can’t have this.” He didn’t want to answer that, so he kissed her instead, but didn’t attempt to deepen it, mirroring the lightness of hers. He brushed his thumb across her bottom lip. “Tell me,” Elizabeth said again. “Because if you can’t, then neither can I. I just want to understand so I can find a way to live with it. You can tell me anything.”

He sighed, rested his forehead against hers, closed his eyes. “It’s hard,” he said finally, “to find the words. Because right now, I want to believe it’ll be different, but it never is.”

“What will be different?” she asked, that softness still here. No judgment. No resentment. Where did she find the courage to be that open, he wondered? Had he ever been like that?

“Your face.” He opened his eyes, found hers looking back at him with a mixture of warmth, desire, and maybe a little hope. “That you’ll always look at me this way. That it won’t change.”

“Why would it change?” She stroked her fingers down his neck. “Why wouldn’t I keep looking at you the way I do now?”

“Because it always does.” Jason moved back just half step, slightly standing between her parted legs, but not pressed against her. He reached for her hands, looked down at them, tracing the line on her palm.

“Always? Or do you mean Robin’s did?”

He sighed, then looked up. Still nothing approaching resentment or impatience. Just curiosity. He wanted to deny it, wanted to tell her this had nothing to do with the past. But he couldn’t lie to her. “Over and over, we argued and walked away from each other because of the choices I made. The life I chose,” he said. “We both tried to compromise, but we kept hurting each other until, I think, by the end she hated me. Maybe other people can make this work. But I can’t.”

“You think I’d do that?” Elizabeth asked, drawing her brows together. “Promise you that it wouldn’t matter and change my mind?”

“You wouldn’t mean to, and maybe you think you won’t. But I can’t—” His throat tightened and the words were stuck. “I can’t take that chance.”

“Why?”

Jason exhaled slowly, looked at her again. “I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about these last few months, the last year,” he admitted. “Wondering when I looked at you and something something more. It was your smile.”

“My smile?” Elizabeth blinked, her lips parting.

“It lights up your whole face. You just…you glow,” he murmured. He touched her cheek .”It’s contagious, and I’m smiling back before I even know what I’m doing. And all I want to do is protect that. To keep that light shining. That day outside of Kelly’s, after the airport with Emily, and Juan, and we were laughing. Do you remember that?”

“I—” She nodded, staring at him as if she’d never seen him before, but he kept talking because she had to understand, she had to see why it had to be this way. That it was for the best. “Lucky came, and we had a fight—”

“No. A fight has two sides. He only said a few words, and it was like—he flipped a switch, and that all went away, and I could see you crawling back inside yourself. I wanted to deck him,” Jason muttered.

“You came after me that day. You drove me home for the first time.” Her mouth trembled. “That was…that was so many months ago, Jason.”

“I just—I had to make sure you were okay. I told myself it was just because you’d done so much for Emily, and someone needed to fix it, but I never asked myself why it had to be me. I could listen to you talk, even when you ramble. You always apologize, but you could keep talking for hours, and I’d never stop you.”

“No, you never do,” she murmured. “I thought it was because you’d mostly tuned me out—”

“I just like the way you sound when you’re happy and how you throw yourself into everything. Everything that makes you who are, that makes you special, that makes me want you—” He took a deep breath. “My life would drain that away. The secrets, the dangers, the worry, the guilt of knowing what I do, I can’t do it. I can’t watch all of that go away. I can’t be someone who takes away the light.”

—

There was nothing in her entire life that prepared for her this entire night, for sitting on a table where Jason Morgan had lifted her while kissing her passionately, and then he’d spoken the most beautiful words anyone had ever spoken about her in her whole life. And he’d done it as a way to explain why despite all of that, it had to end here.  And he’d been so intensely open, vulnerable. She felt sure he could see her trembling because every piece of her was profoundly shaken.

Elizabeth licked her lips. “I’m scared, too,” she confessed and he tipped his head, just the slightest bit. Because of course, he hadn’t said those words, but she knew what he meant. She knew what was beneath all of that. “Not about your life, though, okay, now it’s on the table, I guess it should give me pause. And maybe I need to think about that more. It’s hard because I know who you are, we’ve talked about that. But I—I know that’s not what you mean. That it’s not living with the reality of it the way I would be if…if this was more.” She bit her lip, looked down at their hands, still joined. “But it’s not what scares me. And it’s not why I didn’t kiss you that night on the island. B-Because I could have.”

“What scares you?” he asked gently, and she lifted her gaze to his, bolstered by the concern, the kindness she saw there. And just like she’d promised he could tell her anything, she knew it was true for him.

“This…” She raised a hand to gently brush against his chest, the soft skin over the hard muscle, satin over steel. “The…physical stuff. It’s…too easy to say that I know you’d never hurt me. I do know that,” she added quickly. “But I—I also knew that about Lucky. And it wasn’t true.”

Jason exhaled on a slow, shaky breath. “Elizabeth.”

“I thought he was being patient with me, you know? He never, not once, pushed for more. Never got angry. Never complained. And I thought it was because he knew—because he’d been there, and that with time and trust, we’d get there.” She closed her eyes. “I didn’t know he was holding it in. That it was just one more thing I was doing wrong and he was building up this tidal wave of anger, resentment, frustration until he let it fly and in one minute, in just a few words—” She choked back a sob, and looked away.

Jason’s hands cupped her face, his thumbs gently brushing the tears away as they escaped. “You don’t have to—”

“I have to. I do. Because I need you to know that I’m scared, too. Right down to the bone, and you need to know why. I need to say it. You know the basics of it. The cheating. With you. You knew that already. B-but it’s not just that. It was—” She drew in a deep breath. “He said it was because you had experience and I wanted that to make sure I liked it this time.”

His eyes went cold, and every muscle visibly tensed as the words rolled through him. But his touch remained gently. “It is,” he began carefully, “a very good thing I did not know that four months ago.”

She laughed, but it came out as a broken sob and he leaned in, kissing her forehead. “It’s okay,” he murmured, his lips trailing down her cheeks, soothing away the tears, the horror of it. “I’m sorry. So sorry that he said that to you. That you ever had to hear it.”

Elizabeth fisted her hands in his shirt. “I’m scared because I never saw that coming. I never saw it, and I didn’t know that he could be that way—just a few words, and it destroyed everything I ever thought I knew. I can’t even look back and remember when it was sweet because it’s gone. I can’t trust it. A-and I’m scared that I can’t ever trust it again. That maybe you won’t get frustrated with me, too, and I know you wouldn’t. But I know it the way I thought I knew it about Lucky, and I hate that he took that from me. I worked so hard to get it back, and he stole it, and I don’t know if I get to have it back.”

They stood there for a long time, her ragged breathing gradually easing until it was calm again, and his anger had eased, his body relaxing.

Elizabeth opened her eyes, looked at him, and took a deep breath. “So I’m not going to promise you that my face won’t change. Because I don’t know the future. I could tell you that I’d make that choice knowing who you are, and complaining about it later seems like a dick move, but I know that’s not the point you’re making.” His smile was quick, but she was bolstered by it. “Just like you’re going to tell me you’d never rush me or resent any…problems in that area…though, I’m going to tell you—” She squinted, touched the table next to her. “Judging where I ended up, my brain mostly turns off when you touch me—so maybe not a big problem, actually.” Jason laughed, though it was just a quick, surprised burst of sound.

Elizabeth touched his face, her fingers trailing along his jaw, the smile on his fading. “But just because I’m ready to risk being wrong, that doesn’t mean you are, and that’s okay. Thank you. For telling me. For making me feel beautiful and cared about. I don’t know any other man who could reject someone so nicely.”

His brows drew together and he shook his head. “No. It’s not—” he sighed. “I don’t want it to be,” he muttered. “It’s stupid. I’d run into a burning building to save your life, and I wouldn’t care if it cost me mine. But this—” Jason hesitated. “I don’t know. It should be easier. And knowing what you want through just a few months ago, that you’re standing in front of me, ready to risk that again, you need to know I understand the gift you’re offering. That I’m—I’m not saying no because I want to—”

“Then I won’t offer it,” Elizabeth said softly. “We know where we both stand, right? We won’t close the door. We’ll just—” She gestured to to the space behind them. “We’ll go in another room. And if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

“That seems too easy,” he said, almost suspiciously. “Too simple.”

“It can be if we let it. Love—not that it’s what I’m saying,” she said quickly, “I’m just saying — that category of emotions, you know—it’s not supposed to be a burden you force on someone else. An obligation you suffer through. You reminded me of that when I was willing to suffer less. I care about you, and being angry about something you don’t seem very happy about either, well, it doesn’t really get us anywhere does it?”

“No, I guess not.” The corner of his mouth curved up.

“I think you’re worth waiting for,” Elizabeth said, and he just stared at her, then kissed her again, just a soft slow press of his mouth hinting at the passion he’d shown earlier.

Then he stepped away fully this time, putting distance between them. She slid off the table, and he cleared his throat, taking a few more steps away. Elizabeth lifted her brows. “You running away or something?”

“No. No. It’s just—” He scooped his jacket up from the ground, held it in both hands. “When you’re near enough to touch,” he muttered, “sometimes I can’t stop myself.”

She grinned now, a full blooming smile that she felt down to the tips of her toes. “You’re kidding, right? I’m sorry. I’m kind of obsessed with that idea, and I’m taking it as a compliment. But it’s okay…” She scooted to the other side of the table, flattened herself against the wall. “See? As far as I can go. I’ll stay right here. You’re safe.”

Jason laughed again, and it was less pained, more full and natural. “Okay. Great. You’re making fun of me.”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“I should go. My willpower only lasts for so long, and some—” He squinted at her. “I don’t think you’re going to help me.”

“Not in my best interest, so no.” She tipped her head, still smiling. “See. We can do this. We’ll go back to being friends. Even if we just run into each other at Kelly’s, and that’s all there is for right now.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. We’ll…try that.” Jason reached the door, touched the lock, then looked at her. “Okay, but also, we’re going to be friends who give new doors with better locks.”