Jason Morgan was screwed. Up a creek without a paddle, all the other useless crap people spouted at times like that. He never worried about things like this before, never had a need to.

Until now.

Why had they gone so long without hiring a lawyer? 'Cause he could really use one right about now. Glancing across the crowded squad room at his boss handcuffed to a desk just like he was, he amended that to they could really use one.

Every police officer in town seemed to be on duty tonight. Most of them simply there because they thought they'd be witnessing the downfall of Corinthos and Morgan. The problem was, there was a small part of Jason that was beginning to believe they'd be right.

After all the harassment complaints filed against Marcus Taggart and all the times they walked out scott free because of a bungling of procedure or an overzealous cop not waiting until they had a proper warrant, the men in PCPD Blue had finally done it right. The warrant was air tight. Procedure had been followed down to the most minute detail. Every piece of evidence had been properly collected and catalogued, and when the silver handcuffs had been placed on their wrists, the cops had acted like they were holding baby lambs. The cuffs were secure, but there was no way any hint of police brutality could be made. They'd even been given their phone calls immediately. For all the good it did them.

Normally when Sonny was arrested, he called Jason, Jason called a lawyer, called Benny to start drawing up bail money and came down to be a show of solidarity and support. Sonny did the same in return when Jason was arrested. On those rare occasions that they were arrested together they called their lawyer and he, or she, came down and got them out before the ink on their fingertips could even dry.

But not this time. Sonny had called Benny, the only person they could call at this moment, and unless their accountant suddenly produced a sheep skin from a college of law, there wasn't a fat lot of good he'd be able to do for them. Jason hadn't even bothered to use his phone call. There was no girlfriend to alert that he'd be home late. He hadn't even been home from Puerto Rico long enough for him to head down to Jake's to hustle up a pool game and some company for the night. He laughed as he realized that his bags were still sitting in Sonny's living room, never having had a chance to even find out if Jake had a room to rent to him.

"Let's go, Morgan."

Languidly he raised his gaze to Andy Capelli, who stood in front of him, his arms crossed over his chest. It always raised their hackles when he didn't immediately comply. He knew they wouldn't touch him, didn't care if Taggart would swoop in and make some crack about being too brain damaged to understand. He did it simply because he could. There wasn't a thing the police could do to him just because he didn't immediately jump up, and they knew it.

"Where are we going?"

"Down to holding. When, or if a lawyer ever arrives for you, we'll bring you up."

Jason flicked his eyes immediately over to Sonny and saw that he was standing, hands still cuffed while Taggart was getting ready to lead him out of the squad room. Slowly he stood, unfolding his frame with patience and ease as if one arm wasn't chained to the corner of the desk. With a smirk, Capelli undid the lock, spun Jason around and clicked the cuff closed around his free wrist. Then with a gentle nudge, indicated for him to move forward.

Once they were down in holding cells, at opposite ends with two empty cells between them just for annoyance sake, Jason immediately began talking. He kept his voice low, but loud enough for Sonny to hear. He did it because he was mad, but he also did it so that Sonny didn't immediately start thinking about the cell he was trapped in or how the walls seemed to lean in every time he took a breath.

"I thought you were going to replace Alexis when I headed down to Puerto Rico."

"I did," Sonny replied. "Turns out Ric Lansing was nothing more than a snake. He's in prison for the crime Johnny was being tried for."

"You framed him?" Jason asked in surprise.

"No," Sonny shot back. "He actually was stupid enough to think that he could come to me, offer his services in defending one of my men for the murder he committed and I wouldn't find out. After an anonymous tip to the PCPD that led them straight to Lansing, they had no choice but to release Johnny."

"That was months ago, how come you still haven't hired a lawyer?" The frustration was more than evident in his voice and at this point he really didn't care. They were partners, but lately Sonny had seemed distracted, and Jason was beyond tired of having to clean up his mistakes or pay for the older man's carelessness.

"Because everything blew apart, Jason, and suddenly finding a lawyer didn't seem like a top priority." Sonny apparently didn't feel like he had to explain himself to anybody, even his partner, and sat back on his cot, crossing his arms over his chest. "You were taking care of the situation in Puerto Rico, I found out Carly had lied to me, betrayed me again, Mike and Courtney were all over my case… I could feel myself slipping and I knew I couldn't call you back from Puerto Rico just for that. The situation down there was too dangerous, I needed you there, not back here holding my hand. I had to keep it together and finding a lawyer was a distraction I couldn't afford at that time."

"Geez, Sonny," Jason breathed out, scrubbing a hand over his face and wincing as the stubble scratched his palm. "You could have said something. You should have said something. This is what Benny's there for. He could have found someone."

"His wife was sick, Jason," he said softly, and Jason flinched at his callous forgetfulness. He hated that he was stuck on the island and unable to attend the funeral for Benny's wife. He didn't know what to say to the older man, so he'd never called, though he had sent flowers for which Benny had left a message on his voice mail saying thank you. "But he's finding someone now. When I called he said he'd been trying to get someone up here to interview and he'd call them right now and see if they couldn't come up tonight."

"Where's the person at?"

"New York City, I think."

It would be several hours before the person could even make it there, if they even did show up. He didn't want to keep talking. Normally when arrested, he could lie down and be asleep in minutes. It always seemed to infuriate Taggart that he wasn't agitated and pacing in his cell waiting to be released. But he knew he'd have to keep talking for Sonny's sake, and so he reached out blindly, searching for a topic they could safely discuss until Sonny fell asleep, or Benny came through with a lawyer.

"Rise and shine."

Jason was immediately awake and sat up on his cot, watching as Taggart unlocked the door and slid it open, waiting for him to join him. Sonny was stirring and sitting up, mumbling under his breath about the lumpy bed and scratchy blanket.

"Sorry it's not the Ritz, Corinthos. But your lawyer's here."

Wordlessly they followed the cop, Jason glancing at the clock and seeing that it was only several hours after they'd been taken down to their cells. The squad room was back to its normal late night activity after the initial buzz of their arrest had died down. Jason looked around, hoping to spot Benny or anyone that looked like he could be their lawyer. At their appearance in the room, Benny started for them.

"Mr. Corinthos, Mr. Morgan. I'm sorry it took me so long, but I finally got someone who agreed to take your case."

"It's alright, Benny. I appreciate you moving so quickly," Sonny said with a smile that didn't quite make it all the way to his eyes. It had nothing to do with displeasure, and everything to do with having spent several long hours in a cell. "Where is he?"

"Over talking to Commissioner Scorpio."

All three men shifted their gaze and Jason nearly snorted out loud. That was their lawyer?

"Her?" Sonny said, his voice holding a measure of the disbelief Jason was feeling.

She couldn't be more than five foot three. With her white sneakers, faded blue jeans and hooded sweatshirt, she looked more like she was there to ask Mac for the keys to the car and could she please stay out until midnight because it was completely unfair that she had to be home at eleven when Mary Sue got to stay out until twelve. Jason slid a sidelong glance to Benny, wondering if maybe his wife's death had affected him more than anyone in the organization had suspected. He couldn't possibly think that Gidget over there, her ponytail bobbing as she nodded her head in agreement with the man she was talking to, was capable of defending him and Sonny.

Baldwin would eat her alive for breakfast and then pass whatever was left over to Taggart. The cop may not be the brightest bulb in the box, but even he wouldn't have any trouble deflecting whatever the little girl tried to come at him with. He couldn't help but groan and glare at the floor. They were definitely screwed.

"Thank you for your time, Commissioner," he heard her say, causing him to look up.

She walked towards them, and as he saw her straight on he couldn't believe how farm fresh and young she looked, not a stitch of makeup, errant strands of hair tucked behind her ears. She stopped in front of them, looked somewhat nervously from Sonny to Benny and back again. She cleared her throat and took a breath.

"Mr. Corinthos, I've spoken with Commissioner Scorpio and have received a copy of the arrest warrant, the preliminary officer's write up and a summation of the evidence collected. I tried to get a bail hearing set immediately, but there is a slight delay and the first spot on the docket was for eight in the morning. Unfortunately," she looked somewhat disappointed and apologetic, "you'll need to remain in custody until then. I tried, but there was simply no budging with the clerk that I spoke to."

She finished speaking and Sonny just stared at her. She met his gaze, but did fidget slightly on her feet and swipe another loose strand of hair behind her ear. Jason looked over at his boss, but couldn't get a read on what he might be thinking. "Alright," he said, his voice low and gruff. "What exactly is going on, and who are you?"

"I-I'm sorry," she said, her voice hitching slightly. "Forgive me, it was a long drive. I thought Benny would have told you my name."

She gave him an imploring look and finally their accountant stepped in. "Mr. Corinthos, this is Elizabeth Webber." He looked down and when he raised his gaze, his cheeks were slightly colored with pink. "She's the only person I could find who was willing to take your case."

"What he's trying to say," she cut in swiftly, "is that everyone knows what it means to become your lawyer. They don't stick around long. They either die, disappear or get sent to prison. He's been trying to get me to come interview with you for months, but I've been putting him off. I mean no disrespect, but I have no intention of becoming another casualty of yours in the legal profession."

She let out a huff and crossed her arms over her chest. "But he finally played the one card I was hoping he wouldn't. He called in his marker as my uncle, and so here I am."

"Ah crap," Jason muttered under his breath when they walked into Courtroom 5 to stand before the honorable Judge Kimura for their arrangement hearing. He cast an apprehensive glance at Sonny out of the corner of his eye and wished for his gun when he saw the barely concealed gleam in his boss's eye.

He was, without a doubt, undeniably screwed. Why him?

Gone was Gidget who had sat in the interrogation room at the PCPD with them and asked them endless questions about the arrest, their alibis, a brief overview of their relationship with the Port Charles Police and Lt. Taggart in particular. Despite her appearance, he'd begun to realize his initial appraisal of Elizabeth Webber may have been a bit hasty. She was smart, she asked just enough about their activities so she could defend them and when they hedged on certain answers she didn't get peevish like others had done before her, she merely made a notation, cast hypothetical scenarios about until they grabbed one and then continued on unfazed.

She kept them out of their cells for hours. Every time Taggart or Capelli opened the door she would draw herself up to her small height, gather all the righteous indignation about her precious time with her clients being compromised and how this could be used against them in trial as denying her clients an adequate defense she could muster and the men would be sent scurrying out the door. But not before they'd made a promise to get her more coffee. She was playing them like a well tuned violin, and he found himself being impressed.

Even when the questions were done, she refused to let the police take them back to their cells. She sat in the room, reviewing past arrests, trial transcripts, complaints against the police force on their behalf and in general giving herself a crash course on everything she could find and read in the short hours before the arrangement hearing. Every time an officer opened the door and tried to usher them back to the holding cells, she claimed she needed them. She couldn't possibly know about Sonny's claustrophobia, Benny didn't even know about it, but Jason was glad that they were in a room off the squad room instead of down in the cellblock where Sonny would be slowly losing his mind.

Finally, at 6:30 she stood, said she had to go grab some breakfast, a quick shower and change and she would meet them at the courthouse. They were returned to their cells where a breakfast of oatmeal glue, burnt toast and sausage links swimming in grease was delivered. He was hungry and dug right in, ignoring Sonny's sniffs of disdain and pacing.

At 7:30 they were cuffed and loaded into a transport van for their trip to the courthouse. The holding room was thankfully large enough that he didn't have to worry about Sonny and he sat down in a chair, tipped his head back and closed his eyes. He hated being arrested. When he came home from Puerto Rico, the last thing he expected was being arrested on his very first night back. All he wanted was to kick back a couple of cold ones, hustle up a game of pool and if he was really lucky he'd find someone to test the springs on his mattress with. Instead...he was here.

By the time were taken to their arrangement hearing, Sonny was beginning to grumble. How could their lawyer not meet with them at the courthouse? Jason knew it was because Sonny was tired and hated being locked up, but he was really beginning to be bugged by the older man's griping.

Now, if only his boss would go back to being annoyed at their interim lawyer. Because he wanted absolutely no part of the train wreck that was about to ensue. Sonny, despite all his rantings about marriage vows, had never quite been able to keep the one about fidelity. Even though he claimed to love the women in his life, he always had a wandering eye and Jason didn't know how many affairs he'd kept quiet and how many mistresses he'd set up in apartments and then condos out of town when the bloom on the rose faded and Sonny moved on to different pastures.

The most troublesome affair had been the one Sonny had with Alexis. Jason didn't know what it was about the stuffy suits and the tortoise shell glasses she wore, but Sonny had stayed the longest with her and had nearly divorced Carly to be with her. It was when Alexis found out she was pregnant and refused to raise her child near the danger of Port Charles and Sonny's enemies that the relationship ended. Jason had accompanied her to Puerto Rico where she then headed off to a private island that Sonny bought just for her and their daughter.

That affair had led Carly to a string of her own affairs, ending with Sonny's rival Lorenzo Alcazar and a nasty divorce, and them being in their current state of not having a full time lawyer. And now, now Sonny had the same look in his eye he did every time he called Alexis over to his penthouse or to their office to ostensibly talk business.

Elizabeth no longer looked like a teenager playing dress up on career day; instead she looked every bit the competent lawyer Benny promised she was. The jeans and sweatshirt were replaced with a standard lawyer issue skirt suit, in a very non-conservative shade of maroon. The white scuffed sneakers that had beat out a tattoo against the table leg in the interrogation room were exchanged for a pair of four inch Dana Scully shoes that added nice dimension and contour to her calves. And the springy pony-tail was gone in favor of a twist that was supposed to look simple and staid, but in reality had probably taken twenty minutes to get just right. Her entire persona was changed and when Scott Baldwin himself swaggered into the courtroom to hold court at their bail hearing, she never even looked up or looked the least bit ruffled.

"Docket number six-two-four, The People versus Michael Corinthos, Junior and Jason Morgan. The charge is drug possession and conspiracy to distribute narcotics."

The bailiff blandly read the charges against them and handed the file to the judge as an officer lead Sonny and him to stand beside Elizabeth who had yet to look at them. Maybe his initial assessment that she wasn't nervous was incorrect.

"Ah, Mister Morgan, Mister Corinthos, so nice of you to grace my courtroom again," the Asian judge said over her wire rimmed glasses. "I was wondering why Mister Baldwin was here personally."

"Yes, Your Honor, the District Attorney's office felt that a case such as this deserved our highest attention. We ask that the suspects be remanded without bail."

"Hold your horses, Mister Baldwin," the judge said a bit peevishly. "We haven't even entered their pleas yet. Let's at least try to pretend to follow the rules of decorum before you start grandstanding."

"Yes, Your Honor," he said with false meekness.

"Miss Webber, is it?" she asked looking up and Elizabeth nodded. "How do your clients plead?"

"Not guilty, Your Honor."

"So noted. Now as to the issue of bail."

"Your Honor," Scott immediately jumped in. "We ask that Misters Morgan and Corinthos be held without bail. They are known criminals-"

"Alleged criminals," Elizabeth cut in, her tone calm yet determined. "While my clients have been arrested numerous times they have never been convicted of a single crime."

"-with well known ties to the mob," Scott kept going.

"They're coffee importers, your honor. As it is duly noted and stated on their tax returns, they own a coffee warehouse and distribute coffee to business throughout the state."

"They're flight risks, Your Honor. Mister Corinthos owns a private jet, he owns an island in The Caribbean."

"My clients will voluntarily surrender their passports, Your Honor. They'll even wear tracking ankle bracelets if the District Attorney is afraid they'll spirit away in the middle of the night"

"Alright, Counselors, that's enough," Judge Kimura said. "Mister Baldwin, the charge is drug possession, not murder, and with no conviction, I am setting bail at one million dollars a piece, cash. And the defendants will wear tracking devices."

"Your Honor," Elizabeth said, before the judge could bang her gavel and move on to the next case. She didn't even seem to acknowledge the fact that she'd just gotten them out on bail. "As you yourself have indicted, District Attorney Baldwin has a bit of a love affair with the media. In order to assure my clients a fair trial without his office trying them in the news, I would ask that a gag order be placed on all parties involved in the case."

Scott looked like someone had just told him Christmas had been canceled. He opened his mouth to object, but the judge silenced him with a stern look. "Agreed, Miss Webber. Any violation of said order will result in a five thousand dollar per incident fine, and the offending party will not be held in a favorable light during trial. Next case."

Elizabeth finally looked over at them, and smiled, which immediately turned to a frown when she met Jason's gaze. "A tracking device?" he growled.

"I...I'm sorry. Benny only said that it was extremely important that I do whatever I had to do to make sure you were released on bail and not held in jail. I know I should have talked to you about it before hand, but there simply wasn't any time. I had to do some research on it, and I knew that if D.A. Baldwin got himself worked up into a head of steam...and I didn't know how favorable the judge would be to you...I was only trying to make sure you weren't taken back to jail."

"It's alright," Sonny cut in smoothly as they walked down the hallway back to the holding room. With her at their side, they could probably just wait there until Benny arranged their bail. "Your uncle is right, Miss Webber, you certainly know your stuff. And I appreciate you taking this case on such short notice and doing all that you are for us. You'll have to pardon my partner, he's a bit jet lagged and didn't sleep much last night at the jail."

"It's alright," she said, only slightly mollified. "I need to speak to someone to work out all the arrangements on the tracking anklets and where you're allowed to go."

"Good, why don't you take care of that, and then you can come to my penthouse tonight with your uncle and tell Jason and I about the arrangements. I'll even cook dinner for everyone. What's your favorite dessert?"

"Um...anything chocolate," she said, a half-smile on her face.

"Good, then we'll see you later tonight." Sonny's dimples were in full force, and Jason couldn't help but roll his eyes. It was Alexis all over again. Start with a simple dinner - it was so much easier to discuss a case over dinner Sonny always said - fix her favorite dessert, and pretty soon Sonny would have her charmed right out of her panties and into his bed.

And they would lose yet another lawyer.

And they would be screwed all over again.

Sonny Corinthos was a very polished man. His penthouse was richly furnished, done in striking masculine colors and dark, expensive fabrics, Elizabeth knew there would be decorating magazines that would give the first borns of all their editors for just a chance to do a write-up. And the culinary magazines would kill for just one taste of the delectable meal he prepared. The only problem was, nobody would ever do a write up about the Godfather of Port Charles.

Dinner had been delicious. She had been nervous when she first arrived; she had been running late and her uncle wasn't with her like she'd hoped he'd be. The doorman had called ahead when she walked into the lobby after parking her car, and had graciously told her to go right on up to the top floor. A sandy haired guard she remembered as Johnny from her aunt's funeral was at the door and greeted her cordially before showing her in.

Sonny was standing there, talking to her uncle and Jason Morgan, looking very relaxed and perfectly in his element with his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a dishtowel artfully thrown over one shoulder. He immediately came over to her, took her coat and personally hung it in the closet. He offered her a glass of wine or maybe a pre-dinner brandy, but she declined. When she tried to talk about the tracking devices or the case, he waved her off, saying they'd talk over dessert. He had to finish up dinner.

Then she was left alone with Benny and Jason. Her uncle excused himself to make some phone calls in the den and she was left alone with a man who could put a church mouse to shame for noise.

Jason Morgan was a man of few words. What words he did deign to share with her were usually harsh, condescending and full of anger. She knew he thought she was completely the wrong person to be defending them. She knew she looked more like she was 15, as opposed to 28, and she hated that apparently not only did she have to fight against that prejudice with the district attorney and judges in this town, she had to fight it in her own client. Every magazine she ever passed by in the grocery store or the bookstore proclaimed to have miracle secrets on how to look youthful and younger. What a crock. What she needed was a book on how stop looking like she was ready for her Sweet Sixteen and Never Been Kissed Party.

She sat on the couch, while Jason sat in the chair and slowly nursed his beer. She could feel him glance at her every once in a while she stared straight ahead. It was ridiculous but she didn't want to go get her attaché case and pull out her files; she refused to let him know that she was affected by his disdainful silence.

Finally Sonny and Benny arrived and they all sat down to dinner. Either Sonny Corinthos was a psychic, or her uncle had ratted her out. All of her favorite dishes had been prepared. Right from the spinach salad to the chicken enchiladas to a veritable cornucopia of chocolate desserts. Light fluffy mousse, dark sinful three layer cake, chocolate and strawberry tart, she felt like someone had crawled inside her brain and planned a perfect meal just for her.

And she didn't like it.

She felt exposed. Like this was all a carefully planned maneuver to put her at ease, get her to relax, and as she looked at Sonny who was watching her intently over his glass of wine and made no attempt to hide it, she realized it was. It felt like the way to his lawyer's heart - or at least her bed - was through all her favorite desserts.

Her uncle was a discretionary man. She knew he worked for Sonny, knew that Sonny was anything but just a coffee importer, but he was tightlipped about what exactly he did for the organization. When he began asking her a couple of months ago to come up to Port Charles and interview with Sonny she flat out refused him. She liked living in New York City, she liked the energy and flow of the people and the streets, she liked her friends and she liked her job.

Plus, just like she told Sonny last night in the police station, she had no interest what-so-ever in becoming the latest legal casualty in his profession. She also had zero interest in becoming Sonny's latest mistress. While she never heard a single negative word from her uncle, her aunt had been quite the opposite. She liked the Dimpled Don as she jokingly called him, but also called him what he truly was, a cad. The man had a string of divorces, ex-fiancées, and too many mistresses to count. Elizabeth had learned about Alexis Davis who began an affair with Sonny while as his lawyer and ended up leaving town fearing for the life of her unborn child.

It was her aunt who asked her, no begged her, to never come to work for Sonny Corinthos or Jason Morgan. Jason was a decent man, despite what others may say about him, but Sonny would see her as a conquest to be won - despite her relationship to Benny. And she realized, as she sat trying to decide which dessert to sample first, that her aunt had been completely right. She had never seen dimples in such use as they had been tonight. Sonny asked about her childhood, how she chose the law to study and her interests and hobbies. She was almost completely certain that if she said she enjoyed the ballet or the opera that he would magically procure prime seats to a sold out show while she was in town.

No, she was going to do this one case as a favor to her uncle, and then she was going to go back to heeding her aunt's advice. She was going to stay very far away from Sonny Corinthos and his suave, sophisticated manners. Besides which, it was all she could do to get through dinner without her hands shaking. The house, while richly furnished, felt stuffy and too museum-like for her. She knew she'd never be able to come inside, throw her jacket on the back of the couch, kick off her shoes and leave them in the middle of the floor to trip over later on her way to the refrigerator at 10 o'clock because she just remembered she'd forgotten to eat. She'd never be able to curl up on the couch with a bowl of ice cream because she'd be too afraid she might spill a drop. She'd dated men like Sonny before and she was never going back to that again.

"Thank you for a delicious meal, Sonny," she smiled at him, remembering to call him Sonny and not Mister Corinthos. Her uncle added his own compliments, but Jason continued to sit and stew.

"Thank you, Elizabeth. I'm glad you enjoyed it. Plus, it gave me an excuse to cook a decent meal for Jason on his return. The man's idea of fine cuisine is a frozen pizza or chili cheese fries."

While he laughed, Jason shot him murderous looks. Elizabeth was half-tempted to ask him exactly where he bought those chili cheese fries because she'd been on her way to the corner sports bar to order some last night when her uncle called and she ended up in her car on the way to Port Charles. Somehow though, she didn't think Jason would think she was sincere in asking, and she didn't want Sonny to suddenly try and cook her up a batch.

"Well, gentlemen, it's getting late and I'm sure you're tired after everything from last night, I know I am," she said as she pushed back her chair and all three men immediately stood when she did. "Shall we go over this information and then we can call it a night?"

"Sounds like the first good thing I've heard all night," Jason grumped, and ignored Sonny when his partner tried to chide him.

"I spoke with the judge and the court officer in charge of monitoring your tracking devices and I worked out the best arrangement that I could," she said as she grabbed her attaché and snagged the chair before Jason could sit there. She wanted appropriate distance between her and Sonny. "You are allowed to go pretty much anywhere. I'm aware that your warehouse is on the docks, and in order to get them agree to allow you to go to work and continue on with your normal activities, there will be an increased police presence outside your business. They wanted to put a police officer inside the warehouse, but the judge agreed with me that it was an illegal invasion of your privacy. They just want a police officer there incase you two try to hop a boat and skip bail."

"So that's it?" Sonny asked. "No other restrictions?"

"None," she said with a half smile, the only indication she would give of her pleasure of working out such a deal. Scott Baldwin had a real ax to grind with Sonny and Jason and she knew she was going to have to be on her toes with him.

"Anything else?" he asked, with a raise of one eyebrow. "Anything you need to go over with us about the case?"

"No," she shook her head. "I asked you pretty much everything I needed this morning. The amount of drugs that were found seems more like a plant to me. If you guys were really running drugs with your coffee, you would have had a lot more than a couple of bags of heroin in one crate of a fifty crate shipment. Add to the fact that the police knew exactly zeroed in on that crate pretty quickly, seems like either they were tipped off by somebody or they planted it themselves. Despite proper procedure being followed, there are several holes I can poke in Scott Baldwin's seemingly air tight case. But in order to do that, I gotta have some sleep. I'll get started on some leads I want to follow up tomorrow."

"Are you staying with your uncle?" Sonny asked, standing when she did and walking to the closet to retrieve her coat.

"I am," she nodded. She hadn't had a chance to look for anything else, and she was hoping that by staying with him, Sonny would try to exercise some discretion around her. She could only hope.

"I'll be there shortly," Benny said as he gave her a hug and kissed her cheek. "I have just a few things I need to go over with Sonny. You have your key, right?"

"I do," she smiled brightly. "I'll see you later, though I may already be asleep."

Then she headed for the door, surprised to see Jason walking for it as well. He wordlessly opened it for her, nodded to Johnny and when the elevator arrived, he let her get on first. Ever the proper gentleman it appeared, it the most outward appearances at least. As the elevator descended, she didn't care what he thought and let her head fall back with a weary groan.

"Tired?"

The one word startled her. She hadn't expected him to say anything to her since he seemed to only speak when directly spoken to. When she opened her eyes and tilted her head to the side she was surprised to see him looking directly at her. His intense blue gaze made her nearly forget the question, but she managed to answer. "Yeah, I've been up since five yesterday morning. I haven't pulled those kinds of hours since I was in law school and around four this afternoon I just couldn't look at another cup of coffee or a can of soda so my caffeine buzz had pretty much disappeared. After that huge meal Sonny cooked I'm ready to curl up for a week and sleep."

A soft ding signaled their arrival in the lobby and once again he let her exit first. When they reached the door to the street his eyes were dull and clouded with something she couldn't recognize. "You should probably call a cab then. The last thing we need is you crashing 'cause you're too tired to drive and us winding up without a lawyer again."

Then he walked away without another word, his thick soled boots thumping determinedly off the concrete sidewalk. Jason Morgan may seem like a gentleman, but he had all the makings of a first class boar with a major stick up his butt.

She was tired. Every cell in her body seemed to be crying out for nourishment, mostly in the form of sleep. But sleep was a rare and precious commodity these days and it was only when she would fall asleep at the kitchen table or occasionally on the couch in her uncle's den did she manage to get a few hours of sleep. The only times she saw the inside of the spare bedroom was when she dashed in there to change after a lightening fast shower before racing off to find some piece of evidence that would prove her clients' innocence.

She thought she might finally have it. According to the police report filed Lt. Ross Duncan had received an anonymous tip stating that drugs were being received at the coffee warehouse in the ten PM shipment. However, she also had a police report that stated that at the time he allegedly received the call - for which there was no record of on his cell phone records - he was in the middle of stopping an attempted robbery at Kelly's. She was hoping that the fact that Barbara Spencer, Sonny's ex-mother-in-law, was one of the people present and she swears that the police officer never received a phone call would go a long way in discrediting his statement and proving that the entire raid was a sham.

Elizabeth, however, was nothing if not a tenacious bulldog and she was determined to have more than just the nurse/restaurant owner's statement. She was going to prove that the police officer was on the take and had set-up her clients. But in order to do that, she needed to be on the top of her game and she couldn't be that if she was so exhausted.

Ever since she arrived in town two weeks ago, Sonny Corinthos had become a first-class thorn in her side. Jason Morgan, who she thought was going to be her biggest headache, was a walk in the park with his brusque attitude, callous treatment and a reception that would make a penguin think about heading back to warmer climes. Sonny had apparently set his sights on her as his next conquest and she was wasting half her time and energy evading him and then fending him off when she was unlucky enough not to be able to get out of meeting with him.

He never wanted to meet in public; he always wanted to meet at his penthouse. Where, ever-so-coincidentally, he'd just fixed a meal for two. He wasn't used to eating alone he claimed and simply seemed to have forgotten how to cut his recipes down so that he wouldn't have all these leftovers. It didn't seem to matter that she moved her hand away every time he tried to reach for it, refused a glass of wine - port, sherry, brandy, cognac - with every meal, or that she never wore a skirt after the disastrous time she was fairly certain he'd slipped his shoe off and was rubbing his silk dress sock clad foot up the back of her calf.

He was like a kid who wanted what he wanted and refused to take no for an answer. It was more than obvious that he wanted her, and he wasn't going to stop until she caved in. Whoopee for her.

This was the reason she worked alone. Fresh out of law school she'd gone to work in a high class firm in the heart of Manhattan. And quit three months later when late one night under the guise of researching briefs to help with a case she realized the only briefs Mitch Rios wanted her help with were the red Fruit of the Loom ones he was wearing. She really hoped that she didn't have to dissuade Sonny the same way she'd fended off her slimey turd of a boss because she didn't want anything to happen to her uncle's job. However, the next time Sonny called up and insisted she come over to the penthouse to update him on the progress of the case, she was packing her extra-strength pepper spray in her attaché case.

She shook her head and pulled her hair back into a quick and careless twist as she bent her head over the notes that were permanently sprawled all over Benny's dining room table. Currently she was knee deep in her research on Lt. Duncan's education and employment history. There was something there, she could feel it. If she could only find it, she could maybe start to unravel the mystery of his motivations and most importantly, who he was working for. Then, when she faced Scott Baldwin in court in just over a week, she'd be able to wipe that smarmy perma-grin off the little creep's face, acquit her clients and get back to her comfortable and safe life back in New York City.

A large yawn escaped, despite her best efforts, and she promised herself that at the end of this page, she would head into the kitchen and make herself a huge cup of hot chocolate, and snag herself a cookie.

Unbelievable.

Un-freaking-believable.

It was already starting. Jason Morgan had once again been reduced to nothing short of a pimp for Sonny Corinthos.

His ever-so-horny boss had been doing everything in his power to charm their perky little lawyer, Elizabeth Webber, and hadn't been meeting very much success. Jason would have been impressed by her resolve, and apparently common sense in addition to book smarts, if he just didn't know Sonny so well. The more a woman resisted his charms, the more Sonny became obsessed with conquering her. Add to the fact that Elizabeth probably reminded Sonny of Alexis in some ways and he knew that Sonny would never back off until he'd bedded her.

It had gotten to the point that he avoided Sonny unless he absolutely had to meet face to face to discuss business. Thankfully, every time he'd gone there late at night, Sonny had been fully dressed and extremely grumpy that he hadn't succeeded yet. Part of him wondered how bad it would have to get until Benny finally said something about the situation. It was clear that the older man was disgusted by his boss's actions, but Benny was also old school and it was just not in his nature to disagree with his employer's personal affairs. Except that the intended affair would involve his wife's favorite niece.

Now, Jason was standing outside Benny's house like some errand boy because Sonny was getting himself worked up into a dather that Elizabeth wasn't answering her phone. Benny was working the books at the warehouse, and Sonny apparently had enough sense or discretion not to send him to fetch his niece for another seduction attempt, and despite the fact that Johnny was sitting right across the street guarding her, Jason had been sent to come collect and deliver their lawyer. It wouldn't make her suspicious, Sonny said, if her other client showed up asking her to come to a meeting.

Johnny verified that she was inside, so why wasn't she answering the door? He'd been standing out here knocking loudly for over ten minutes. Aw, screw this. He didn't care if she got angry at him, he was sick of standing around like an idle school boy. He didn't stand around, he took action. And right now, he was going in.

After quickly picking the lock, he stepped inside, slipping his picks into his back pocket. He looked around, half expecting her to jump out at him with a frying pan and a bunch of how dare you's for breaking into her uncle's house. Instead, he was greeted with silence. He stepped through the empty living room, checked in the den, but didn't see her. A shiver of awareness slithered up his spine, and he paused and eased his gun from the small of his back. Johnny was only watching the front, but if someone wanted to slip in Benny's house and kidnap their lawyer, it would be quite easy to do through the wooded back lot.

A thump echoed loudly through the house and Jason turned in the direction of the sound. The dining room door was closed and he could hear frantic shuffling of papers and then Elizabeth loudly cried out in pain. Kicking open the door, he stepped into the room and was met only by Elizabeth, holding the back of her head.

"Are you alright?"

"What are you doing here?"

They stared at each other, expecting an answer, but saying nothing. His eyes darted furtively around the room, until he realized that he was standing in the only doorway to the room, and they were the only two people there. "What happened to you?"

She stared at him wide eyed. "Would you mind putting the gun away, or are you here to eliminate me?"

"What?" he said, then realized he was pointing the gun straight at her heart. "Sorry. You didn't answer the door and then I heard sounds, and you sounded like you were in pain."

"I hit my head on the table when I reached down to pick up the book I knocked off when I fell asleep," she snapped at him, color coming back into her cheeks now that he was no longer aiming his 9mm at her. "What are you doing here?"

"Sonny sent me over." As soon as the words were out of his mouth her face darkened and her mouth pinched into a thin line.

"Oh for the love of Pete," she bellowed and slammed the book she was holding down on the table. "Here I thought you might be the reasonable one. Apparently, you just go in whatever direction your boss wants. Does it even matter to you that I don't want to sleep with, let alone even date, him? My word, it's bad enough I've got to fend him off at every turn and I haven't had a decent night's sleep since I got here because I'm trying to figure out if the cop I suspect of being on the take actually is in addition to trying to keep myself in check so that I don't either slap or Mace my uncle's boss, I'm now going to have to deal with you and your contemptuous attitude coming over here to drag me against my will to some out of the way love shack until I submit to Sonny's raging hormones. Isn't that why you're here?"

He widened his eyes ever so slightly at the slightly sharp and desperate note her voice had taken. He hadn't seen her since that night Sonny first cooked her dinner and even across the room he could see how pronounced the shadows under her eyes were. He could feel the exhaustion seeping off her, and he could feel his anger rising. She was busting her butt trying to keep them out of jail, and Sonny could only focus on the bruising to his already over-inflated ego.

Jason was disgusted with him for his behavior and wanted to apologize to the woman in front of him for the harassment she'd been receiving. Instead, he merely shook his head, knowing that she didn't need empty words and platitudes from him, she needed Sonny to get off her case. Well, he doubted he could get an apology or an admission of wrong-doing out of Sonny, but he certainly could try a little behavior modification.

Maybe it was time he put his foot down about Sonny's behavior, especially around Elizabeth. Because it sounded like she may be on to something, and there was no way he was going to end up rotting in some prison because Sonny had harassed their lawyer into blowing their case.

When the door slammed open, Sonny looked up from the lamb chops with mint sauce he was preparing and frowned. He hated when people slammed his door. It reminded him too much of Carly when she'd storm around the house in another one of her snits and slam every door, every drawer and walk as loudly as she could to convey to him just how displeased she was. He knew that all he had to do was call up his jeweler, ask him to send over whatever piece she'd looked at the last time she was in the store, and she'd still be mad, but at least she'd stop abusing the penthouse.

"Sonny!"

His frown deepened when he heard Jason. He had expected him to go pick up Elizabeth, bring her over for a casual dinner, not to actually come up with her.

"Sonny! Get out here right now!"

He walked out of the kitchen, wondering what had gotten Jason so incensed that he was actually bellowing orders to him, and slid his hands into his pockets. "What's going on? Where's Elizabeth?"

"Where's Elizabeth? She's exactly where she should be, at Benny's working on our case."

The corners of his mouth turned down as he tipped his head to the side. "What are you going on about?"

"What am I going on about?" Jason repeated. His voice had dropped from the loud bellow, to a quiet, controlled fury. The kind he used when delivering stern messages to enemies threatening to encroach on the territory, or men who forgot where their loyalties should lie. "I'll tell you what I'm going on about. I went over to Benny's like some freakin' pimp to try and help you succeed in your latest conquest. Well, I'm fed up with it. It stops now."

"Alright, alright," he placated. "I won't ask you to bring Elizabeth over anymore."

"No," he said, taking a step forward and crossing his arms over his chest, his leather jacket creaking. "The pursuit of Elizabeth Webber stops now. Geez, Sonny, what's happened to you? If any man had disrespected Courtney the way you are Elizabeth, you'd be the first one in line to teach him some manners."

Sonny felt one eyebrow arch and his own voice dropped half an octave. "I'm disrespecting Elizabeth? Because I think she's a beautiful woman and I'd like to get to know her better? How exactly am I disrespecting her, Jason?"

"Because you're abusing your position as her employer and her uncle's employer. Have you even noticed that he can't look you in the eye anymore? Do you even care that she's done everything she can to keep the meetings purely professional, or are you just so beyond caring about anybody's wants and needs but your own anymore that you can't see how disgusted people are with you?"

"Are you one of these people?"

"Yes," he said immediately. "She doesn't want to date you, she doesn't want to sleep with you, and she's trying very hard to politely put you off so you don't do something barbaric and fire her favorite uncle because she won't put out."

"And you know this how?" he asked, his jaw tightening.

"Because she yelled it at me when I broke into Benny's house and she woke up after she'd passed out at the table working on our case. She's doing everything she can to keep us out of jail, to find out who set us up, and she's got bags so big underneath her eyes it's a wonder she can stand up straight all because she's burning both ends of the candle fending you off while saving your butt. And all you can think about is trying to get in her skirt." Jason shook his head and looked away, the contempt clear on his face. "Maybe you don't care if she blows your case and you end up locked in a six by six room with a roommate who's gonna think you'll be his personal Betty Crocker, but I refuse to let you take me down with you."

"What exactly are you saying, Jason?" he asked, his temper rising. It had been a long time since Jason had spoken to him this way and he wasn't used to it, didn't know how to accept it the way he once had. He was used to dictating orders on business, and pleasure, to people and getting immediate results. Just because Jason might be right didn't mean he was going to admit it.

"I'm saying that you stop acting like you're a spoiled little rich kid who's demanding Mommy and Daddy buy you every toy in the store, and start acting like a man who's facing the possibility of going to prison. If we go to prison, Sonny, I can't keep you sane. The walls will start to close in around you...how soon until you think the prison workers see that and trump up some charge to send you to solitary?"

His hands started to shake inside his pockets and he could feel sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. "Okay, okay," he said, his voice not quite as strong after the picture Jason had painted for him. "You're probably right. What good's starting a romance if I won't be around long enough to enjoy it?"

Jason rolled his eyes, and shook his head. "It's not a matter of being around to enjoy it, Sonny, it's that she doesn't even want it. She took this case as a favor to Benny. She's good at what she does; look at how she got us out on bail. We could try to convince her to stay, be our new lawyer, but what chance do you think we'd have of that if she's gotta worry about you trying to seduce her every time you call?"

Sonny drew one hand out of his pocket, and casually swiped it across his brow. It was a blow to his ego, to realize that Elizabeth Webber simply just wasn't interested in him, but the signs were all there. He'd let himself get caught up in the chase, the need to prove to himself that he could still have any woman he wanted, that he hadn't seen how uncomfortable - not coyly skittish, but looking like she was either going to pass out or knock his block off - she was around him. Most of all, he did not want to go to jail.

"Okay, I see your point."

"Do you?" Jason pressed.

"Yes," he shot back defensively. "I've been a cad and you're right, I haven't respected her very well. I will stop the dinners and will act professionally."

"Good," Jason said, relaxing his stance and dropping his arms. "You should apologize, to her and Benny. He'll never say it, but he lost a lot of respect for you as a man."

"Yeah," he nodded. He paused for a moment, then fired a question of his own at Jason. "Were you so upset because you thought I might end us up in jail, or were you upset because you thought I might succeed and you're interested in our lawyer yourself?"

He was going to slug Sonny. Of all the preposterous questions to ask, was he interested in Gidget of Manhattan, that one took the cake. He thought it was bad when Sonny asked him if Courtney's claims were true, that he was interested in Sonny's sister, but was refusing to act on those feelings because he cared more about Sonny than his own happiness was a far fetched question. But this one won by a mile. Was part of the reason he'd been avoiding Sonny because he was afraid Sonny might actually succeed in wooing her into bed and he was jealous?

Him. Jealous of Sonny. He snorted as he took a sip of his beer.

He didn't care about Elizabeth Webber, age 28, youngest daughter of Jeff and Carol Webber, closer to her aunt than her own mother, who loved to spend summers with her cousins as opposed to going off to the Catskills with her own siblings and parents. What did he care what - or who - she did? Right now, she was his best chance of staying out of jail, and that's all he cared about.

So why did Sonny's question ring through his head like an out of control pin ball?

Maybe it was because he'd been living like a monk for way too long. The job in Puerto Rico hadn't left him much free time, especially towards the end, and he hadn't hooked up with anyone for the night since he returned. Some women might not care about the tracking device, he knew that the only reason some women talked him, asked if they could join him in a game of pool, and slipped up the stairs of Jake's with him was because they were looking to spend a night with the ultimate bad boy. How much more of a bad boy could there be than the number one enforcer in Sonny Corinthos' organization? He knew why they used him, understood he was using them just as much. It was a mutual arrangement, but the tracking device bugged him.

He'd spoken more than a handful of words to only two women since his return. Jake and his lawyer. So, maybe that was the reason he was sitting in a corner booth quickly getting a beer buzz. Elizabeth Webber was cute, in a conservative mixed with naiveté kinda way. He sure wasn't going to admit that to anyone though.

She wasn't the kind of girl who'd meet some stranger in a bar and sleep with him. She was the kind of girl that men dated when they were ready to settle down and get married. She was a forever kinda gal, and he was certainly not interested in anyone looking for a commitment. Besides which, he seriously doubted that even if they asked, she'd give up her private practice in Manhattan and come to sleepy little Port Charles where she'd be ostracized in the legal community for working for the town pariahs.

Now that he'd gotten Sonny off her back, she could spend her time preparing their case and get them acquitted. Then the day he got the device off he was going to find someone to spend the night with who would forever clear his head of Elizabeth Webber.

"This was a dumb idea."

She couldn't stop the out loud chiding of herself, despite knowing the need for silence was imperative. But for the past thirty minutes she'd been calling herself ten kinds of stupid and cursing the day that she ever turned on Alias and got hooked. She forgot the most important lesson of television. Real life is never as easy, simple or wrapped up in an hour, like on TV. Shoulda remembered that before she walked out of the back door of her uncle's house and decided to play Cloak and Dagger.

Idiot.

Only she would have walked into this situation because of her stubborn pride. She thought the day Jason walked out of Benny's house and swore he'd get Sonny off her back that things would improve. Oh sure, Sonny apologized to her, and her uncle, repeatedly for his behavior and had been nothing but professional and even courteous since that time. It was her other client that was making her wish Sonny was still playing Mr. Grabby Hands around the dining room table.

Jason Morgan had become even more of an overgrown ogre. His churlish behavior increased tenfold, he snapped at her anytime she called to discuss the case, and she was in serious need of a parka whenever she was lucky enough to pin him down. Silly her for thinking he might actually have a heart, a soul, a shred of human decency when he seemed disgusted by Sonny's behavior and sympathetic to her after her outburst.

Fool.

She should have known that nothing would ever last. It just didn't seem to be in the stars for Jason to be decent to her. Which was too bad, because at this moment she could really use his sort of professional expertise.

With Sonny no longer making her life miserable by pursuing her with a dogged determination, she had been able to get a good night's sleep and then throw herself into unearthing Ross Duncan's secret boss. Which had led to tonight's little outing. For the past several days she'd followed him on his time off, hoping that with the trial start date looming - and a cryptic little message she'd dropped on his desk the last time she was at the PCPD requesting some files - that he would make contact with the person who had transferred a sizeable chunk of money to an undeclared bank account in the Cayman Islands. Her money was on Alcazar since it was well-known he'd vowed to bring down Sonny as retribution for his treatment of Carly.

Imagine her surprise when her surveillance actually paid off and Ross met with his employer. Imagine her annoyance at herself for not even considering that the person could be none other than Faith Roscoe. And imagine her complete dismay when Ms. Roscoe's bodyguards were actually competent and about to discover her hiding place on their very thorough sweep of the area. The man at the shop lied, the spy camera she'd purchased wasn't whisper silent, because the goons had heard the mechanical click and alerted their boss who disappeared, leaving a few behind to search for whoever was spying on them.

At least she got a few good shots of a very angry Faith, an equally irate Ross, a steamy kiss - complete with his hand slipping under her skirt - and an envelope passed from her to him. She shouldn't have been greedy and tried to scoot close enough to catch a snippet of their conversation. Nothing she heard would be admissible in court, and now the pictures might be in jeopardy because if she was caught, she imagined she would get a very thorough body search and her camera would be destroyed.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid.

Her mental berating was cut short when a guard stopped two feet away from her. She'd been holding her breath for so long that she was about to pass out, so how he could have heard her was beyond her comprehension. Just before her world turned gray, she realized that the guard wasn't coming towards her position, but was walking away. His buddy had joined him and the two were conversing in very serious and hushed tones. There was somebody else in the alley.

The tears that sprang to her eyes caught her off guard and she tilted her head back and rapidly blinked to stem the tide. She didn't want to die, and she didn't want to be an unwitting witness to a mob take-down. Especially since the most likely people coming after Faith Roscoe's men would be her clients. She was an officer of the court, she'd have to testify as to what she saw, and somehow she didn't think a judge would believe that she'd closed her eyes and stuck her fingers in her ears to keep from witnessing the event.

Loud scuffling of shoes drew her eyes away from the sliver of sky she could see from her hiding place and she watched in wide eyed disbelief when the men showed surprising speed and agility for men of their girth and took off down the alley. After waiting a few minutes to make sure nobody else approached her secreted location, she quietly slipped out, and hugged the shadows as she headed in the opposite direction. When she turned the corner she was beginning to feel that she just might escape and started to break into a run, a vice reached out and grabbed her arm.

"You have got to be one of the stupidest people I have ever met."

The roar of the Harley cut through the quiet neighborhood and Jason actually left rubber on the ground when he slammed on the brakes by Johnny's car. The guard was standing by the bumper, listening to Benny with one ear, and issuing orders into his cell phone. As Jason strode forward, he finished up his call and flipped the phone shut.

"How could you lose her?" he demanded before Johnny even had the chance to speak.

"'Cause she snuck out the back door, into the woods behind it and down the street to a waiting cab. Jeez, Jason," he snapped, "would you have suspected her to pull such a stunt?"

His jaw slid to the side and he was forced to concede that he wouldn't have expected it from little Miss Button-Up. He didn't like surprises, and he especially didn't like having his thoughts about her blown out of the water. "Alright, alright, what do we know?"

"Benny got home about twenty minutes ago, said the last time he spoke to her was about an hour before that, called her cell phone, it's turned off, so he went into the dining room where she keeps all her notes."

He immediately turned to the older man, wanting to hear the information from him, instead of being filtered through Johnny. "It appears she may have figured out who planted the drugs in the shipment, and it appears she's been following him because she had his shift detail for the week and some notations made on the side."

"Spit the name out already, Benny," he urged with a roll of his hand.

"Ross Duncan."

She was good. The men had been doing their own investigation into the plant, but either their informants had been turned, or she'd twitched onto something they hadn't, because they were still suspecting it was Alcazar. If Duncan was involved that meant it was Faith Roscoe, because Sonny knew for a fact that the cop was on her payroll.

"Call our men who are watching Faith Roscoe and find out where she's at."

"Faith Roscoe?" Benny said, his voice slightly shaky. The woman was a viper, and Jason knew that their accountant had had a run in with the woman at a meeting Sonny hadn't been able to attend. "Duncan's in her pocket?"

Jason nodded just once and then tipped his head back to draw in a deep breath. The night was perfect for skulking around dark alleys, only a few stars shining through the obscuring clouds. Their lawyer, who apparently wanted to play spy, probably felt it would give her good cover. The problem was, she had no idea what she was up against, and if they didn't move fast, they were more than likely liable to find her body bleeding in a rat infested garbage can - if they found her at all.

"Her car's parked down by Pier Forty-Two," Johnny informed them as he snapped his phone shut. "Max and Paul are already moving in."

"Good," Jason breathed out. "Meet me down there."

When he reached the docks, he parked a few blocks away and quietly made his way through the maze of warehouses until he crept up on the alleyway where two of Faith's men were searching for something. More likely someone. They paused when they heard Max and Paul, and then like all good rats when the boss is away, scattered when they got spooked. He knew that his guys would follow them, rattle their cages and send them back to Faith with their tails tucked securely between their legs. He was just going to wait.

Sure enough, he heard light, cautious footsteps approaching him. Begrudgingly he admitted she was pretty good, she kept to the dark spots, didn't run into any garbage in the alley, and if he hadn't known she'd run this way, he just might have missed her. But he was going to teach her that this wasn't a game, and he let her get comfortable, feeling like she'd just made it, when he reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her back against him. He leaned down and ignored the way that after standing in an alley she smelled like vanilla and musk, hissing in her ear, "You have got to be one of the stupidest people I have ever met."

He wasn't prepared for the elbow that landed squarely in his solar plexus knocking most of the air out of his lungs, or the resounding crack to his nose when she threw her head back. He grunted loudly, struggling to keep his grip on her when she stomped down hard on his foot and spun around. Luckily she didn't quite keep her balance and her knee that was aiming straight for his groin missed and hit him in the thigh. She was a slippery little eel, and he wasn't quite sure how he managed to snag her wrist after she'd broken free, but he held on tight even as they both tripped and fell to the ground.

Her bark of pain mixed with his labored breathing and muffled cursing and she kicked wildly, catching him on the shoulder as she fought to get away.

"Hold still, Elizabeth!" he shouted, grimacing as pain shot straight down to his fingers.

She paused, her breath coming out in loud bursts and huffed, "Jason? What do you think you're doing?"

When she pulled her hand away, he didn't resist, confident that she wouldn't go tearing off into the night. Planting a hand on the ground, he pushed himself up, spitting when he felt blood from his nose running into his mouth. "I could ask you the same thing. Do you think this was a game? You could have been caught and believe me, kid, if Faith Roscoe had found you, she would have killed you."

"I'm well aware of that," she growled at him, her left arm wrapped around her ribs as she stood mostly upright.

"So then what were you doing down here?" How stupid could one person be? If she knew the danger, then why was she risking her life?

She managed to pull herself to a completely vertical station and stepped forward, her jaw set, her eyes flashing in the dull light of the alley. Reaching into her coat, she pulled out a camera and nearly hit him in the face. "I was just printing up your Get Out of Jail Free Card."

Elizabeth Webber had an amazing laugh. When she let herself relax, there was something so pure and free about it that Jason found himself thrown off guard once again that night. She had sputtered and protested, dragging her feet and demanding to know where he was taking her as he pulled her through the alleyways by the docks until they arrived at his motorcycle. For a minute he was certain he was going to have to pick her up and hog-tie her to the back of his bike, but she finally relented and climbed on behind him.

It was then that he was forced to reconsider another preconceived notion about his attorney. She actually liked riding on his bike. Her laughter bubbled forth like a pure mountain spring, and several times he looked in his mirrors to find her with her head tipped back, her face lit up with a smile as she shrieked into the night. If the shoulder she'd kicked hadn't been stiffening up on him, he might have made the ride longer. But the need for pain relief and the knowledge that Taggart or Capelli would be busting on his door soon made him turn into the back of Jake's and park his bike.

Immediately the laughter faded and the sharp tongue he was so used to was back in place. She demanded to know why they were at a bar, why he didn't just take her home, and would he please stop with the silent routine and talk to her. Saying nothing, he latched his fingers around her wrist, taking care not to squeeze the delicate joint too hard and pulled her along behind him until they were in his room above the bar.

"Alright," she snapped, arms folded across her chest and stepping into his path as he locked the door, "what is going on? Why did you drag me back here?"

"Because I needed a moment to think and I needed to be in familiar surroundings where I didn't have to worry about looking over my shoulder to find Taggart on my case wondering why I was on the docks."

She groaned and tipped her head back. "The tracking device. Oh man, I forgot about that."

"Yeah," he snapped, brushing past her and rubbing absently at the ache in his shoulder. "So, do you think you can give me five seconds without you flapping your gums so that I can figure out how I'm gonna hold Taggart off without getting hauled down to the precinct."

"Leave that to me," she said as she suddenly sat down on his bed and began unlacing the black tennis shoes she was wearing. "Do you wear boxers or briefs?"

"Excuse me?" he questioned, his eyebrows creeping up his head as she peeled off her black socks and tucked them into her shoes then slid them under his bed and straightened the bedspread.

"I need a pair of boxers, preferably something light colored."

"You wanna tell me what for?"

She paused as she was unzipping her hooded sweatshirt and her hip cocked out in exasperation. "I'm getting ready for when the cops show up. Now are you gonna stand around all day, or do you think you can find a pair of boxers? Preferably clean ones, if you don't mind."

His teeth slid to the side so hard he could feel it throb behind his eyes, but he turned and stalked over to a drawer and pulled out a pair of yellow boxers with smiley faces on them that Emily had given to him as a gag gift. He turned around and held them out to her with a flippant smile and she arched one brow before grabbing them. "T-shirt? I know you got enough of 'em, do you have a gray one that I can wear?"

Shaking his head, he pulled one out and tossed it at her. He had no idea where this was going, but he had a feeling that any questions he asked were only going to cause the headache he had to get worse. "Great," she smiled. "While I go get changed, can you grab some ice? I'm going to wrap my ankle. And you might want to grab a bag for yourself." She winced and pointed with her chin, "I'm sorry about your nose."

Then she slipped into his bathroom and shut the door behind her and he was left standing there like a deer in a meadow. He shrugged out of his jacket, his shoulder twinging at the movement, and then walked over to the mini-refrigerator in the room and grabbed a couple of Blue Ice bags. Looking in the mirror above his dresser he scowled at the swollen discoloration of his nose. Probing it gently he was relieved to discover it wasn't broken, but she'd sure bruised it. And made it bleed. He had dried blood streaked on his face, and there were stains setting into his shirt.

Deciding that he didn't really want to put the extremely cold bag on his nose right away, he stripped his shirt off and pitched it across the room at the hamper, turning to inspect his shoulder. Man, that was already beginning to color. How could a little thing like her pack such power in her movements? He'd been less banged up after bar fights.

The bathroom door opened and he turned as he placed the bag against his shoulder, the cold immediately going to work. Elizabeth stopped as she stepped out, her eyes not meeting his at first. "Where can I hide these?"

She gestured to the clothes in her hand and he took them from her, putting them in an empty drawer of the dresser. When he turned around, she was wrapping the towel she'd brought with her and the ice around her ankle as she propped it on the bed and sat in the chair she'd drug closer.

"You mind telling me what this whole charade's about?"

"When the police arrive, we'll say that I was out jogging - I do it all the time in New York - and I tripped and hurt my ankle. With the towel wrapped around it, there's no way they can prove it's not swollen. I called you, 'cause I couldn't get a hold of my uncle, and you came down and picked me up. I was a little spooked from the unfamiliar surroundings. I'm a girl, girls are always getting scared, police would probably wonder if I wasn't scared, so when you showed up I panicked at first and hit you."

He grabbed the desk chair and flipped it around, sitting down and placing his arm across the back of it. "That's it?"

"It doesn't have to be elaborate or complicated," she shook her head. "Give 'em something plausible to believe and play the wounded and helpless female and the police will head off with their tails between their legs because they weren't able to catch you up to no good. I take it that area isn't part of your normal territory."

He stared at her, saying nothing and she shook her head at him. "Oh come on, cut the crap. I know that you and Sonny aren't just coffee importers. My uncle has never said anything, and just because you've never been convicted of anything, doesn't hide - or change - the fact that you are indeed mobsters. That's why you wanted to get out of there. Not only for the police, but because it wasn't territory you controlled and you didn't want to get caught in a situation with me present. I understand, and I accept that. But please don't insult me by playing deaf, dumb and blind when I ask a question. There's no one else here, and believe me, when the police or the D.A. is present, I will toe the line of you're just a coffee importer."

He shifted the ice to his nose, trying to give himself a minute to adjust to the latest curve ball she'd tossed at him. Alexis never even acknowledged the fact that he and Sonny were involved in illegal activities. It was the elephant in the room that everyone ignored in the hopes that it would just go away. Elizabeth refused to ignore it, in fact she walked right up, grabbed hold of its tail and yanked. Was there any thought he had about her she wasn't going to shatter tonight?

Her head lifted as they heard footsteps echo down the hallway and when a sharp rap sounded on his door, she pushed herself to the front of the chair and nodded at him to answer the door while muttering, "Show time."

In the end, it went just the way she said it would. Taggart and Capelli were surprised to see her sitting in his room, and he was sure their intended method of questioning was thrown out the window by the fact that his attorney was present. The fact that she did most of the talking wasn't unusual. He rarely spoke to cops, and she was doing what she was paid to do. Keep him out of jail, and getting the police off his back. He could tell Taggart was suspicious, but there wasn't anything he could do to break her story and he had no cause to stick around and continue to question them.

When the door was closed and the police gone, she stood and kicked the ice off her foot, shaking it slightly to get the circulation going again. She bent and began gathering the items and her clothes and he watched her silently.

"Thank you," he finally said, pushing himself off the door and slipping his hands into his pockets.

"No problem," she muttered. "I'm sorry I fought you, but really, you shouldn't go sneaking up on people like that and not expect something to happen."

"Yeah," he said on a short bark of laughter directed at himself. "I'm beginning to realize that you don't do anything I expect you to do."

She paused, holding her clothes to her chest and scowled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," he shook his head. "It's late, and I'm just tired."

"No," she advanced on him, the clothes still held protectively against her. "I want to know. You have been one of the most difficult people I know to work with, obviously something about me bugs you greatly, and I'd like to know what it is. Is it the fact that I didn't sleep with Sonny? You were just so sure that I would see his dimples and swoon at his feet? Contrary to your obviously less than stellar opinion of me I don't sleep with clients. And even if Sonny Corinthos wasn't a client, I still wouldn't sleep with him. Guys like him are nothing but bad news, trust me, I've learned my lessons there.

"But that can't be it, because even after I made it perfectly clear I wasn't interested in Sonny, you've still been a bear to work with. And tonight, what was that whole grab me in the alley and attack me crap about?"

"Why were you even there in the first place?" he snapped, not liking that she'd pegged him so quickly on how he was certain she'd be falling into Sonny's bed.

"I was finding out who was paying Ross Duncan to set you up. I got some very interesting pictures of him with Faith Roscoe that is going to blow his entire testimony out of the water."

"That's great, but it was dangerous to be down there by yourself."

"Dangerous?" she scoffed. "I live in New York City. I've taken self-defense classes and I know how to take care of myself, as you obviously found out. Forgive me for not being a little shrinking violet and hiding away at home with the doors locked. You're my clients, but I wasn't going to get you involved with this because I wasn't going to give Scott Baldwin any opportunity to throw out my evidence. Are there any other ways that I'm doing my job wrong, Mister Morgan, or can I go get changed and get the heck out of here?"

She turned and stalked to the door and he couldn't help but notice the way she'd rolled the waist of the boxers to keep them from falling off his hips, or the stretch of back that was exposed because she'd knotted the shirt in the front above her stomach. Then his eyes widened and he swore at himself as he stepped forward and grabbed her elbow. Red, angry, oozing scratches stood out stark against her pale skin.

"Let go of me," she hissed and tried to jerk her arm away.

"No," he refused, not releasing her as she tried to shake him off again. "You're... I hurt you."

"I hurt you."

The throb in Jason's voice literally stopped Elizabeth in her tracks. His touch on her elbow felt lighter, and it took her a moment to regain her breath at the thought that she had never heard that tone - soft, gentle, self-recriminatory - before. Her anger over being drug back to his room and then having to deal with the police, and his utter refusal to see that she might have done something good, faded, and she was suddenly struck with the need to reassure him that despite the way her back stung and her hip throbbed from where she'd fallen she was alright.

"Don't worry about it," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Suddenly the room felt small and all she wanted to do was head into the bathroom, change, and go back to her uncle's.

She shivered as his fingertip danced ever so lightly over her back and he quickly apologized, mistaking her reaction for pain. "Why didn't you say something?"

"It's no big deal." She shook her head and once again tried to pull away but he refused to relinquish his hold.

"No big deal?" That throb was back in his voice. "I am so sorry. Let me get the first aid kit."

"Don't worry about it. I'll take a shower when I get to Benny's. Really," she tried again, "it's alright."

"Elizabeth, I insist," he said, and steered her to the bed and then headed into the bathroom for the kit. She stared at the door in a bit of wonder. Moments before he'd been chewing her out for doing her job and now his voice was soft, tender and it lanced into her more powerfully than all the cold and angry words he'd lobbed at her. He wasn't supposed to act like he cared. She was just supposed to do her job, be given a cursory thanks, a hefty check and then she'd head back to the safety, and most of all anonymity, of her life in New York.

"Lay down," he said, flipping off the light as he walked out. Her eyes widened as it seemed to hit her that he'd never put on a shirt, and she wondered why she was just noticing that. When she still sat there, he set the plastic box on the bedspread and looked down at her. "You alright?"

"Huh?"

"Lay down," he repeated, "so I can look at your back."

The glint in his eyes and the firm set of his jaw told her that it would be easier to just comply than to continue on the merry-go-round ride of insisting that she didn't need him to do this. Quietly she stood, loosened the knot in front, and lay down on her stomach. He pulled the chair closer and then took hold of the sides of her shirt and carefully folded it up on her back, yet still kept her modesty.

"Your shirt must have pulled up when you fell, they don't seem to go too high," he said. "But with all that stuff in the alley, it's probably better to get them cleaned."

The gentleness of his touch surprised her. Even her father, despite being a doctor, had never had this soft of a touch when he'd clean a scraped knee, or tended to the cuts on her hand. His movements were efficient, economical, yet tender, almost like the caress of a lover. But considering the stories her aunt had told her about Jason "One Night Stand" Morgan, that wasn't such a surprising realization.

He cleaned the wounds, but anti-bacterial ointment on, and covered the larger scratches. As he was nearing completion he pushed a side of the shirt that had slipped back up and then nothing. She waited for the bandage to be put in place and him to say she was all done, but he didn't move. Turning her head, she looked over and saw the cloth strip hanging loosely in his hand while he stared intently at her back.

"Hey," she said, hoping to break him from his apparent trance. "Just put the bandage on and I'll be out of your hair."

"When were you stabbed?"

The air went out of the room and she lay frozen on the bed. The smell of peroxide covered cotton balls and freshly opened Band-Aids reached into her senses and she closed her eyes against the sudden onslaught of memories.

"But on the bandage." Her voice was husky, muffled by the comforter that she'd pushed her face into as she squeezed her eyes tight. The light in the ceiling was too bright, too much like the fluorescent lights in the hospital as she'd laid there on the gurney, a doctor her mother played tennis with stitching up her back.

"Elizabeth?"

"Put on the Band-aid!" she screamed at him, but when he still sat there she pushed herself up, the shirt falling below her waist as she skittered across the room.

"Whoa, whoa," he said as he stood, holding up his hands. "I'm sorry. It was just an old wound, but having been stabbed a few times I was just surprised to see it happened to you."

He forced a lightness into his voice she was sure he didn't feel, because it fell flat with her. And she just wanted to get out of there, to get away from the questions he was sure to have, to hide from the memories of that night that made her decide she was going to be a lawyer. The energy crackled in the room and she knew that it would strike at any second.

When she continued to stand there and not move, he slowly lowered his hands and took a step towards her. "Are you alright? I didn't mean to pry...I was just commenting. What's got you so spooked?"

"No-nothing," she shook her head.

"'Kay," he nodded. "It's fine. I'm not gonna push. You don't want to talk, I respect that."

She cleared her throat and mumbled a thanks. When he turned and began gathering up the used supplies, she felt her chest loosen and her lungs expand fully. He wasn't going to push. He truly wasn't going to question her. It was the first time a stranger had ever seen her scar and accepted that it wasn't something she liked to discuss. A reminder of a bad night, a bad choice, a foolish decision when she should have known better, and he just accepted that it wasn't any of his business.

Coming out of the bathroom he picked up her fallen clothes and folded them over his arm before depositing them on the bed. Then he pulled open a drawer and pulled out a t-shirt that he quietly slipped on. "You wanna change? Or you just want to head back to your uncle's?"

His tone was even, not hard like she was used to, but not overly cautious and fawning. It put her at ease, settled her frayed nerves and the tension in her body slowly seeped out. "I...I think I'd just like to go back to Benny's. I'll wash your stuff and get it back to you later."

"No rush," he shook his head. "I know you've got the case, court's in a couple of days. What about those pictures you were talking about earlier?"

"Don't do this," she told him as she pulled herself up tall. "I don't want you suddenly walking around on eggshells around me."

"That's not what I'm doing."

"It's what it feels like. Look, the scar...it was a long time ago. I've dealt with what happened and I've put it behind me. As for what you did tonight...look in the mirror, Morgan. Your nose looks like someone took a meat tenderizer to it and I saw the bruises on your shoulder. I gave as good as I got, it's not the first time I've been hurt, I doubt it'll be the last. Don't go all wiggy on me, alright?"

"Okay," he shrugged. "Want me to start being an over-grown bear again?"

She chuckled and shook her head. "No, I like my head where it's at. Just give me a minute to adjust to this new side of you."

Sitting down and slipping on her socks and shoes, she took a deep breath as she was pulling the laces tight. "Listen, thanks for coming down. I could have done without the whole near mugging experience, but I appreciate you getting me out of there. I realize that the whole situation was a bit over my head."

"You're welcome. Thanks for all you're doing to keep us out of jail. I kinda like my freedom," he smirked.

"Yeah, well, don't flatter yourself that any of this is for you." She stood and picked up her clothes. "For whatever reason my uncle thinks very highly of you and Sonny, and I did this for him. I suggest though, that you look for someone who can be your permanent counsel. 'Cause I meant it, when this case is over, I'm heading back to New York City."

"Right, your thriving law practice."

She stopped on her way to the door and turned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

His face was the picture of innocence, which considering who he was was quite a dichotomy. "Nothing. You got a good practice down there, your clients speak highly of you."

"You spoke to my clients?" She didn't like that idea at all. She could only imagine how some of her clients might react to the news that she'd defended Jason and Sonny, she wasn't sure they'd like the idea of speaking to the two men.

"Relax." He opened the door and ushered her outside. "It's not like we went down there and harassed them. It was stuff Benny told us, and we know he's not going to inflate things just 'cause you're his niece. You work hard; you've won some big cases. We appreciate your work here, and if we thought there was any way we could tempt you to stay, we'd certainly try. But you've made your feelings on the matter quite clear."

She nodded her head. "Good. 'Cause while you're not as bad as I thought you were, and I certainly like having a civil conversation as opposed to our tangles we've had lately, that doesn't mean I'm moving to Port Charles."

"I understand."

She peered at him, certain that it wasn't that easy. Surely there was going to be some sort of offer for her to work for them, which she of course would refuse. It simply couldn't be as easy as Jason was making it out to be. And that thought made her feel very unsettled. Like suddenly there was an anvil hanging over her head, and at the most importune moment it was all going to come crashing down.

She didn't have time for this. She just didn't.

In an hour she was supposed to be giving her opening remarks to the jury, getting herself in the game to blow Scott Baldwin and his crooked cops right out of the water and acquit her clients before heading back home to New York City, and she was feeling like a school girl who just got caught looking at the naughty pictures. She really should have insisted Jason put a shirt on when they were in his room at Jake's because the image of him wandering around bare-chested had been driving her crazy for the past three days. And now that she was face to face with him for the first time since he dropped her off at Benny's, the image just came racing back and would not go away.

And with that memory came the reminder of how his voice had changed, deepened to a softer note when he insisted on tending to her scratches. And then he asked about her scar. She knew he had to be curious about the way she completely freaked out, and it had been quite the little freak out. Maybe not in terms of screaming and yelling, but she knew she'd gone pale. Even after the ride to her uncle's, the cool night air stinging at her cheeks, she'd been surprised how sallow her skin was when she walked into the bathroom.

So what if he'd been stabbed before? Those injuries had probably occurred in the course of his job, and he probably hadn't been able to go to a hospital - or maybe he had - but if he was going to try and bond with her in some way it wasn't going to happen. Because she highly doubted that he'd been stabbed with he was fourteen years old, grabbed in a park one winter's night by a beast masquerading as a human being. Held at knifepoint while he raped her, he'd then given her a parting gift, probably hoping she'd bleed out from the nick to her kidney before someone found her. It had taken her years to recover from the event, and it's what had formed her interest in the law, even if she hadn't gone the expected route and become a prosecutor.

It wasn't something she shared with many people, and she certainly didn't know Jason well enough to tell him about it. Men looked at her one of two ways after finding out she'd been raped. There was the oh poor thing routine, and they treated her to wine and roses, candlelight and satin sheets and always held themselves in check, always careful to make sure every moment was special, safe; everything that night hadn't been. And while she liked being cherished and romanced, sometimes she wanted wild abandon, fun and reckless moments. Which led to the second treatment. She must be a she-devil, looking to love men and leave 'em in payback for what had happened to her. No need for tenderness, she was looking to use and abuse whoever came in her path. It was very rare she found someone who could balance and combine those two philosophies.

Not that she cared which way Jason would treat her, she told herself, it was just such a private moment in her life, and she hardly knew him. So what if he was curious about her behavior in his room, she didn't owe him anything besides the best defense she could offer. And that's all she intended to do.

That was provided her over-heated emotions would allow her to stop looking at him, wishing she could peel back his shirt and check out his scars. After all, she'd already shown him hers.

"Get a grip," she scolded herself with a firm shake of her head as Jason and Sonny were led into a small room off the courtroom where they could talk privately.

"What was that?" Sonny asked.

She raised her head, trying not to look sheepish, and hoping that she wasn't blushing. "Nothing," she shook her head. "Just practicing my opening remarks."

"Jason said you got some pictures of Faith Roscoe and Ross Duncan which will-"

"Expose him for the corrupt cop that he is?" she supplied. Her emotions at corrupt cops coming through maybe just a little too clearly. It wasn't like the cop who'd investigated her case had meant to get it thrown out because of police misconduct charges. He was a good cop, just a bit too earnest and disturbed about a young girl being attacked like she was, and had tried to make sure there was enough forensic evidence against the suspect. Instead he was arrested and thrown off the force, and the man they suspected of raping her was set free. Which was why her family had moved shortly after that, and suggested she spend the summer with her aunt and uncle in upstate New York.

Sonny blinked and cast a quick look at Jason before turning his attention back to her. "Well, I was going to say it would hopefully discredit his testimony and thus the arrest, but I like your version too. You alright?"

"Fine, just fine," she smiled brightly, faltering only slightly when she dared a glance at Jason and saw that Mr. Surly appeared to have returned.

Normally, Jason was a patient man. Had to be for his line of work. Day long stake outs and hunting across countries for enemies and rats required a certain level of letting things go and not stressing about things he couldn't change. He also wasn't a person who pushed people or pried into personal matters. Now, dealing with a suspected traitor, or a captured enemy, he pushed - and knew certain techniques that helped loosen a man's tongue. But that was business.

Elizabeth's Webber's scar was none of his business. His head knew that. She said she didn't want to talk about it, had all but screamed it was something that made her vulnerable and she didn't like to appear vulnerable, and he said he respected it. She didn't want to tell him, no big deal.

Except when he lay in bed at night, the same bed that she'd laid across as he touched her soft, silken skin, and he couldn't help but wonder what had spooked her like that. The wound was old, had been expertly taken care of, maybe even stitched by a plastic surgeon given how small and minimal the scarring was. But to a man who'd been knifed on several occasions, he knew the tells. And without even realizing it, the words had just come out and he'd asked her about it.

Whatever had happened to her was bad. While the physical wound may have healed, he wasn't sure the emotional one had. And that had plagued him even more. It had been a huge trauma. There were only a few things he could think of that would make a woman react that way, and all of them had him seeing red. The thought of someone hurting her like that, made him want to find the slime and extract revenge, slowly and painfully.

Normally when he had information he wanted, he called Benny and had the man work his special magic and uncover lost documents, sealed files and coax reticent witnesses to speak. But he couldn't ask Benny to research this. Hey, Benny, I want to know what happened to your niece and why she has a scar on her back. Think you can dig that up for me? He was pretty sure Benny would look at him with the same loathing and disgust that he'd come to view Sonny with back when Elizabeth first arrived. Benny would say it was private, and he'd be right.

"Stop scowling."

The words were so light, almost like a whisper or faint echo in a room and he looked over at Elizabeth. "What?"

"Don't look at me," she said, looking straight ahead and her lips barely moving. "Stop scowling. Juries don't like defendants who glower and look like they want to rip someone's arm off and beat him with it."

He straightened, resting his arms lightly on the table, hands not clasp too tightly just as she'd instructed he and Sonny to do. Don't appear too casual because it looks arrogant, don't look too nervous because it makes you look guilty. Sit up, look forward and don't talk amongst yourselves.

He hadn't realized he'd been scowling as she put it, but he tried to relax. Worrying about something that wasn't any of his business while he was on trial probably wasn't the smartest thing to do. Yet, he didn't seem to be able to help himself. Someone had hurt her, and he did want to find whoever had done it, rip his arm off and then beat him to death with it.

Elizabeth Webber was a miracle worker. Sitting at the table in the courtroom, Sonny watched as she systematically dismantled the prosecution's case. It was a sight to behold, and it made him remember the times Alexis would do the same thing. Find a technicality, latch onto it, and get the case dismissed. It made him miss her and their daughter and wonder how big the little girl was, and if she'd started to crawl yet.

Every witness Scott Baldwin put on the stand was professional, notes meticulous, case seemed airtight. Elizabeth would stand up when it was her turn to examine them and ask just enough questions to link all of their movements back to Lt. Ross Duncan and how they had reported to him as the officer in charge, or had taken their instructions from him. Then she would sit and wait for the next witness. She rarely objected, she kept her voice calm, but the jury watched her every move - most likely because they wanted to see what the latest Corinthos lawyer was made of.

When Lt. Duncan was called to the stand and she stood for cross-examination, everyone found out. She started the same as with the other witnesses, and then - almost as if she was throwing the question away - asked him how long he'd been sexually involved with Faith Roscoe and receiving monies from her.

Scott Baldwin was immediately on his feet, objecting and throwing out a bunch of how dare she insinuate such things, and all the while Elizabeth remained unruffled. She merely turned, picked up a folder and introduced her pictures into evidence. She'd also made nice blow-ups of the photographs so that the jury could see him kissing Faith, sliding his hand under her skirt, and then accepting an envelope. She tore apart every aspect of his official statement, starting with his claim that he received an anonymous tip during the time he was arresting an attempted thief at Kelly's. She provided Bobbie's sworn affidavit stating he received no phone call and then copies of his financial statements which showed large cash deposits in an undisclosed bank account in the Caymans.

With each piece of evidence she calmly asked him about, he looked like a fool trying to explain it away, and Scotty turned red with indignation. When she finished her questions, she turned to the judge and asked that everything in his statement be thrown out, and all the evidence should therefore be considered fruit of the poisonous tree. The judge had agreed, ordered the police officer be taken into custody and when Baldwin stood up to protest, he was fined for contempt of court. The case was dismissed and he and Jason were free to go.

By the time they made their way back from having their tracking devices removed and their bail returned, their lawyer was holding an impromptu press conference on the courthouse steps. Johnny told them the press had waylaid her, surrounded them and separated him from her side, but she was holding her own. She wasn't expositing on their virtues, merely claiming a victory for every citizen against corrupt police forces who take the law into their own hands and consider themselves above the rules they are sworn to protect. It was impassioned and it reminded him of her comment right before court started, and made him wonder what police officer had pissed her off in her past.

The moment the press caught sight of him and his partner, they immediately flocked to their sides. Jason stared stoically ahead, ignoring the microphones shoved in his face and kept walking forward that the unfortunate souls caught in front of him had no choice but to move or get stepped on. Sonny followed along in his wake, Johnny keeping the stragglers from attacking him from the rear. Elizabeth joined her uncle, and the ragtag group climbed into the waiting limousine and left the shouting reporters behind.

In the dimly lit interior, the calm control she'd displayed faded away, replaced by just enough nerves to remind him that he had placed her in some very uncomfortable positions in the beginning of their relationship. He poured a tumbler of bourbon and took a small swallow before smiling at her over the rim. "Amazing performance, Miss Webber. I haven't seen someone twist Baldwin into knots so quickly in quite a long time."

"Thank you," she murmured, glancing out the window before fixing her gaze back on him.

"So, when are you going to head back to New York? I know we've kept you from spending any real time with your uncle."

"I...I'm not sure," she said, shifting on her seat and quickly glancing over at Benny. "I hadn't thought that far ahead. I was focused on getting you and Jason acquitted."

He smiled around his liquor and saluted her with his glass. "Well, you certainly accomplished that. A lawyer with your skill and your daring, you would be an amazing asset to our business."

She smiled briefly but shook her head. "I think you already know what I'm going to say. Thank you, but no."

"You're sure?" he pressed, knowing though that it was a lost cause. She was determined to resist him, and he admired it, while being saddened at the same time. When she nodded firmly, he sighed. "Then at least let me invite you for one last dinner. A thank you dinner for all that you did. I heard about your little expedition with Duncan and Roscoe, you showed some amazing bravery there…along with some stellar moves. I wondered who had taken Jason down, and then found out it was our lawyer."

Beside him on the seat, Jason scowled and folded his arms over his chest. He hid a smile behind his glass, knowing that part of Jason's surly attitude with the petite attorney was because she surprised him...and attracted him. He didn't like either fact. "Jason and Benny, you're invited too. We'll make it a celebration as well."

Each man, in differing shades of reluctance, accepted his invitation and he knew they'd be there. Max pulled onto Benny's street and let the uncle and niece out of the car. Before they drove away he told them to be there at seven, and mentally began to prepare the meal, ignoring the irritation rolling off his friend.

She was heading back to New York. Jason wasn't sure if he was pleased or upset by that fact, all he knew was the information kept rolling around his head nearly driving him to distraction. He hadn't seen her since the dinner two nights ago at Sonny's. She had decided to spend some time with her uncle since her last visit had been for her aunt's funeral and they'd both been pretty distracted.

After the dinner party at Sonny's, he came back to Jake's, intent on hustling up a game of pool, or some companionship for the evening, whichever came first. Instead, he did neither. He headed to bed, telling himself it was just one night and he was tired from the day. The next night he got together with the guards, drinking, playing pool and poker and he told himself it would be wrong to cut out early to try and hook up with the blonde making eyes at him across the room. He had plenty of nights to find Ms. Right Now; he hadn't really spent much time with the only people he considered his friends since he got back.

Tonight...tonight he was determined to find a pretty little thing and paint the town red with her. Or at least just his bedroom. He told himself to ignore all petite brunettes that for some inexplicable reason he found himself comparing to Elizabeth, and focus on the rest. There were quite a few possible prospects sending out signals, but he just bided his time. He played some games of pool, danced a few slow songs, but so far hadn't settled on his companion for the second portion of the evening.

His eyes rose up from the beer bottle he was rolling on the table when the door opened and the men at the table next to him let out several long, low whistles and straightened in their chairs. Leather, lace and flashes of skin walked up to the bar, looking like a cat in need of scratching. Whoa. Lots of skin, he realized as she took off her leather jacket and draped it over the back of the chair next to her. The bartender set her up with a shot, no fancy, frilly little girl's drink, and she quickly downed it before ordering another one. This one she took her time with, picking it up, and rolling it between her palms, before turning on the stool and scanning the room.

His eyes narrowed, and he clenched the beer bottle in his hand. What was she doing here?

He stood and started across the room for her. A construction worker who'd just barely gathered the courage to talk to her, took one look at him with his sights set on her and turned back to his buddies, his shoulders drooping in dejection. Meanwhile, she looked oblivious to all her surroundings as she tossed her drink back and turned once again for the bartender.

"Elizabeth."

She spun on her seat, her eyes widening when she saw him, then narrowing. "Jason. What do you want?"

"I could ask you the same question. What are you doing here? Trial's over. Shouldn't you be heading off for New York City?"

The song on the jukebox ended and he dimly was aware of the unnatural silence that had descended since he walked up to her. Then the next track started, loud and up tempo from the string of ballads that had been playing.

"Here you go, sweetheart," the bartended said as he placed a red plastic basket of fries smothered in chili and cheese on the bar. His eyes rose, and the hopeful look fell off his face when he saw Jason standing behind Elizabeth and viewing him through annoyed eyes. "Need a refill? Mister Morgan?"

Jason waved him away with a flick of his wrist, and he scurried off to the other end of the bar and busied himself wiping down the liquor slick wood. He looked back down at her and folded his arms over his chest. "Well?"

"Well what?" she snapped, her cheeks bright and rosy.

"What are you doing here?"

"Ordering chili cheese fries," she said matter-of-factly and turned her back on them. "I've been having a craving the entire time I've been here and Benny told me you like the ones here. I tried some over at that little mom and pop diner Kelly's, but they were too greasy, the cheese wasn't melted thoroughly, so I thought I'd try them here."

"Here? Where I just happen to live?"

"What were the odds you'd be here?" she questioned, looking down at the end of the bar and trying to catch the eye of the bartender. "Hey, can I get a refill down here?"

The man studiously ignored her, wiping out glasses and stacking them on the shelf behind him. Jason took a seat beside her, turning his chair to face her. "I live here; did you think I wouldn't be here? Or were you secretly hoping I would be?"

"What?" she spun quickly, her knee smacking into his. "You think I came here looking for you?"

"Didn't you?"

"No!" she shot at him and started to turn away, but he planted his hand on the back of the stool and stopped her retreat.

"That was a pretty quick denial there, counselor. Makes me a little suspicious."

She arched a brow and looked at him like she was wishing he'd die slowly and painfully. "Get over yourself."

"Alright," he smirked, leaning back in his seat, but keeping his arm draped across her chair. "Prove it. Let me buy you a drink."

Of all the arrogant, conceited, insufferable...the jerk was eating her chili cheese fries.

Prove it.

The mocking, smug tone his voice took when he said that, Elizabeth could see why her aunt had said while Jason was at times better than Sonny he was still someone she needed to steer clear of. Yet she could never back down from a challenge. He was daring her, expecting her to get all huffy and walk out. Well she'd show him.

She'd allowed him to lead her to a corner table, complete with his hand possessively on her elbow. She knew that to every other patron in the bar Jason had just branded her his conquest for the evening. He may even be thinking he had a chance. Wasn't he going to be in for a rude awakening when she walked out the door, poured herself into a cab and left him alone and frustrated for the evening?

He'd bought her a drink. More than one in fact. Always seemed surprised when she ordered whiskey. He said he pegged her for a tequila girl - it was a lie, she knew he expected her to be drinking fruity, brightly colored drinks with a lot of fluff and very little liquor. She liked whiskey. It had bite and burn, exactly what she was looking for tonight.

She'd also wanted chili cheese fries. With fiery chili hot enough to melt her stomach and enough artery clogging grease to make the whole thing worth while. Instead she had to watch Mister Smug pilfer them at an alarming rate. When she complained about the rapid way her first basket was emptying, he bought her another one and swore she could have it. Either he was lying to her then, or he was deliberately taunting her now. Either way, she'd had enough. She'd kicked his butt once before, she'd do it again if he didn't stop stealing her food.

She debated the best way to get her point across and disregarded stabbing him with one of the utensils on the table, and instead slowly reached out her hand letting it come to rest on his. The one that wasn't dipping into the red plastic basket. "Jason."

Her voice was deepened by the liquor and he looked at her, dropping the chili cheese covered fry back into the pile and leaning forward, his hand coming to rest on top of hers. "Yes, Elizabeth?"

In a flash she brought her other hand up, grabbed his thumb - that had been sweeping slow circles over the back of sandwiched hand - and twisted it while pulling it back. He was masking it pretty well, but she could see his wince of pain and the surprise on his face. "Stop eating my fries. I won't say it again, Morgan. The next time you reach for my food I'll dislocate your thumb."

She let go just as quickly, picked up her drink, tossed back the rest and then waggled it at him in request of a refill. While he got up and crossed the bar, she happily smiled and picked up three fries, swiping them through the chili and cheese on top until they were sufficiently loaded down and popped them in her mouth. Heavenly.

"Here you go," Jason said, as he dropped into his chair across from her and placed the glass on the wooden table. "Bought you a double, counselor."

"Cheers," she smiled as she raised the glass and took a drink. "So, have I passed your little test?"

Now that she had her fries securely in front of her, it was time to dispel Jason Morgan of the presumption that she had come here looking for him. She came for the fries. Honestly. The fact that he might be here...was just an added incentive for her to definitely stop here in her quest to satisfy her craving. But she certainly wasn't going to tell him that. She wasn't blind. The man was gorgeous. He certainly hadn't gotten his chiseled chest by sitting around an office all day, and those calluses on his fingers had come from old fashioned hard work. She wasn't going to give him the benefit of the doubt and call the labor honest.

But if he thought he could ply her with drinks and she'd admit she found him attractive, it wasn't happening. She wasn't a loose-lipped drunk. Many a man had tried, and all had failed. She just had to gauge herself and get out before she lost her inhibitions. There was a reason she only got truly smashed at home. Dancing in the privacy of one's living room was a lot less embarrassing than doing a table dance in a crowded bar.

"My little test?" he parroted.

"You know," she leaned forward and ran her finger along the rim of her glass. "You were so full of yourself and certain I'd come here for the sole purpose of spending time with you. I think your red thumb indicates I wanted my fries. I'm definitely not swooning at your feet like the little peroxide bunny at the end of the bar who's been panting over you since we sat down. I'm surprised she hasn't crawled across the floor in her matching bra and thong and offered to bear your children."

Jason looked up at the blonde bimbo and smiled appreciatively for a moment, before dismissing her and turning his full attention back on Elizabeth. "I don't know, counselor, I still think you're a little too vocal in your protests."

"You are unbelievable."

"So I've been told," he laughed.

"As soon as my fries and drink are gone, so am I," she declared. "And then who'll be laughing?"

"Ah, but your fries aren't gone, and I'm still sitting here, and I bet before you walk out that door that I'll dance with you."

"You dance?" Her tone conveyed her disbelief, while her eyes smoldered with resolution that his challenge would go unfulfilled. She had no intention at all of letting this smug creep in her personal space on a dance floor.

Leather or skin.

It was a hard choice as to where to put his hands.

Her skin was warm, smooth and the feel of it underneath his fingers seemed to raise the temperature of the room several degrees. But the feel of the cool leather that covered her small, slender hips could spike the temperature and leave him struggling for air. So he settled for one hand resting across the small expanse of her back, and one hand molded onto her hip.

Elizabeth Webber fit perfectly in his arms on the dance floor. He knew that with just the right push she would be unable to pass up a challenge. She wanted him to think she was unmoved by this whole event, but he knew that she was acting on the undercurrents that had been between them since the beginning. The reason he'd acted like a bear to her was because he hated the thought that he'd miss his chance with a beautiful woman like her because she'd fall for Sonny's charms. When she put his best friend in his place, he still refused to lighten up on her because he hadn't wanted to admit he was attracted to her.

Now, whether it was the alcohol he'd consumed or the fact that she was heading back to New York City and he wouldn't have to see her again, he could admit the truth. She was beautiful. She knocked him for a loop by shattering all his preconceived ideas, and he liked it. She didn't back down from a fight, and she had enough smarts in her that he wouldn't be looking to escape her company before she sucked him into the black hole of her vapid mind.

She was also a safe challenge because she'd be leaving. There wasn't any chance of this developing into something long term. Perfect for what he was looking for.

"I told you I'd get you out on the dance floor," he murmured into the top of her hair, nuzzling the top of her ear.

"One dance and then I'm leaving. Just proving I'm unaffected." Or at least that's what he thought she said. It was hard to tell the way her fingers were playing over the skin on his neck and then sliding up into his hair. She wasn't unaffected and they both knew it.

"You said that five dances ago."

She paused, stepped back without leaving the circle of his arms and peered up at him through alcohol softened eyes. "This is the last one and then I insist you call me a cab."

"Whatever you say, counselor."

"Morgan, turn off the lights when you leave." Jake stood behind the bar, shaking her head Jason, and he acknowledged her with a tip of his head. No way was he letting go of the combination of leather and skin.

Elizabeth stopped, finally noticing that the bar was empty, the chairs put up and most of the lights out. "Where did everybody go?"

He laughed, and forced her to move as he swayed again to the music. "Last call was quite a while ago, you were so busy being unaffected by our dancing that you missed it."

"Then I should go," she said on a gasp as he spun them around rather quickly.

"There's no rush," he replied, his voice low and husky. "Jake won't mind if we stay here for a little while. One more dance, and then I swear I'll call you a cab."

"One more?"

"Scout's honor." He'd never been a boy scout, but she didn't need to know that. If he played this next song right, she'd forget all about her request for a cab.

She peered up at him, her eyes cloudy. "Alright," she smiled, "one more dance."

Oh no.

No, no, no, no.

It couldn't be.

But as Elizabeth slowly peered out of one eye and didn't recognize the room except for the fact that it wasn't hers, she knew it definitely could be. Slowly the room stopped turning circles and she was able to focus. On the neat and tidy dresser, bathroom over to the left, the large wooden door across the room, the leather jacket hanging on the back of the chair.

Oh crap.

She knew this room. It was Jason's. She was in Jason Morgan's room at Jake's.

Jake's.

Where she'd come for chili cheese fries on her way out of town, and ended up running into the person who was quickly becoming the bane of her existence. His smug, taunting manner had chafed her last night and she found herself rising to the occasion, instead of just walking away. She drank way too much, she definitely shouldn't have danced with him...and as a faint echo shivered down her spine, she was pretty sure she shouldn't have let him kiss her. Or kissed him back. But she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she never should have followed him up to his room...or apparently slept with him.

She didn't remember what had led her here, didn't know if they'd actually had sex, but considering she was buck naked and beneath his sheets it was a pretty good bet. Oh she was so screwed. Okay, bad word choice there, Elizabeth.

She'd broken her cardinal rule; she'd certainly broken a few ethical ones, and slept with a client. Never mind the fact that she was paid and she no longer technically worked for him. This was just a bad situation. Nobody could ever find out what she'd done. This could ruin her.

She had to get out of here. Her uncle was probably worried sick, wondering why she hadn't called him to let him know she got home to New York safe. She definitely wasn't telling him she'd just slept with one of his bosses. No good could come of that work place situation.

She hazarded a glance to her left and her eyes widened in first relief that Jason appeared to still be asleep, and then with the realization that the sheet wasn't covering him. Good Heavens the man wasn't just gorgeous...he was... She tore her eyes away and told herself to stop ogling him. She had to use his unconsciousness to her advantage and get out of here before he woke up. She certainly couldn't face him. It would be too embarrassing, and too frustrating to have to face his cocky attitude - Oh definite bad word choice there - when he taunted her over the fact that she was no better than the bimbo she'd derided last night downstairs.

Thankful that they hadn't wound up in a tangle of limbs, she slipped out of bed and frantically searched for her clothes all the while praying that he would stay asleep. In record time she was dressed, pulling her purse out from underneath the bed and picking up her shoes. He still hadn't awaken, though he had shifted she realized as her face flamed.

Holding her breath and praying that her luck would hold just a little bit longer, she turned the deadbolt back, slowly twisted the knob, and with her heart hammering off her ribs, stepped out into the hallway. She was halfway home. Just a little bit further. Pulling the door closed quietly behind her, she let out her breath slowly when it tapped lightly against the frame signaling it was shut. On her tiptoes, she crept down the hall in an exaggerated manner, wincing at each creak of the floor boards until she reached the stairs. She flew down them, across the bar, wrenched open the locks and didn't even care about the gravel that cut into her bare feet as she flew across the parking lot to her car.

She started the motor, backed out of her spot and hit the road without ever looking in her rearview mirror. Once she hit the interstate her heart rate started to slow, her hands shook less and she slumped down in her seat. She'd escaped. She could make it back to New York, call Benny and apologize for not calling sooner and hope that she didn't sound like she'd had sex with Jason Morgan. Then she would never, ever, ever step foot inside Port Charles again.

And all would be right again in her world.

When he heard the soft tap against the door, he was instantly awake. Rolling to his side, he reached for his gun on top of the nightstand and panicked slightly when his hand met bare wood. Instinctively he turned to his right to protect Elizabeth from whatever intruder was trying to get in the room and stopped short when he realized the bed was empty. A quick turn and scan of the room showed the bathroom door open, the light off, and her clothes gone.

Elizabeth had left.

He must have had more to drink last night than he realized, because he never heard her get up.

Or leave the room without a word...or a note.

Flopping back on the bed, he closed his eyes and blew out a long breath. She bolted like a scared rabbit in the morning. He figured she would...but he was certainly hoping she wouldn't.

He didn't know what had come over him last night, except for the fact that he was tired of denying how he felt about her. She was beautiful. She was intelligent. She kept him on his toes. And he liked every moment of it, and every part of the package. He'd been a jerk last night, but it had worked and she'd hung around, gave him more time with her while trying to devise a strategy. Arguably, getting her drunk and into his bed may not have been the best, but he wasn't thinking entirely clearly last night.

He'd hoped that if he could get her to realize that she was attracted to him just as much as he was to her, that things might work out. Maybe she'd move to Port Charles. Or maybe she'd even agree to at least meet him, see him again later and he'd convince her he was an alright guy.

No such luck of that happening now.

Now she was going to think he was nothing more than a letch that got her drunk and then took advantage of her. He knew she'd been drinking, but she seemed in control when she agreed to come up to his room. She'd even been the one to suggest it. Apparently, she was having second thoughts about the whole thing given the way she bolted.

He knew, without even having to go through the embarrassing attempt of trying to call her, that she'd avoid any attempts he might make to contact her. She'd dodge his phone calls, and would probably never come back to Port Charles.

For a moment he considered getting on his motorcycle and going after her. She didn't have that much of a head start, he could certainly catch her. Force the issue right now before she'd had time to insulate herself and come up with a solid plan.

But why should he?

She'd made it perfectly clear she wanted nothing to do with him. Running out without even a word after sleeping with someone was a pretty clear indicator that the other person never wanted to see you again, or make the mistake of talking you. Why should he go chasing off after her, put himself out there, only to face what was sure to be rejection?

He didn't need to do that with any woman. Not even Elizabeth Webber. He had a lot of other prospects in this town right here. He was alive, he was free, he enjoyed working for Sonny and riding his motorcycle. He could find a woman who appreciated all that he had to offer right here. There was no need to go chasing after someone who made it quite clear she loathed the ground he walked on and probably wouldn't give him a glass of water if he was dying in the desert of thirst.

He'd get over her. She'd be out of his system in no time, and then he'd find someone else. Maybe he'd stop going after the bar babes and look for someone with a little more substance. Maybe that's what this was all about.

"And maybe Taggart will grow a personality," he scoffed as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and headed into the bathroom.

There wasn't going to be any quick and easy getting over Elizabeth Webber and he knew it. Especially after telling her last night that he was falling in love with her.

This had been the longest two and a half weeks of his life.

He'd been acquitted of drug charges because of a bright, competent attorney, his best friend was home, business was quiet at the moment, and he should be a content man. But he wasn't. Because Jason Morgan was a surly, snarling bear and was making his life miserable because he was making the workers' lives miserable.

Jason had never been known for his personable skills. The skills Sonny needed him for didn't hinge on his ability to make nice with people and put them at ease. But he didn't need him biting every employee's head off at the warehouse or among the guard detail. It had gotten so bad he'd had to order, actually order, the younger man not to come to the warehouse during normal business hours. The day after he issued that order, productivity jumped among the workers.

However, it made Jason even more petulant and difficult to deal with. He had a pretty good idea what was making his best friend act this way, he just wasn't quite sure how to broach the subject. Once he got over the sting and the blow to his ego that Elizabeth Webber wasn't interested in him, he began to observe her. Not for ways to try again, but purely out of curiosity. He noticed she would send glances Jason's way when he wasn't looking, and it was a bit surprising when he saw his friend doing the same to her. It appeared his jealous bred barb about Jason wanting their lawyer in his bed hadn't been that far off the mark.

Especially when Francis reluctantly came and informed him of Elizabeth Webber's last night in town. Nobody knew that the guard had been assigned to watch her, even after the case was over. He owed it to her, and to Benny, to make sure that she made it back to New York City and back to her life without one of his enemies trying to make a play at him through her. She stopped at Jake's on her way out of town, had drinks with Jason, danced with him and then headed upstairs to his room. The next morning, she scampered out of the bar, her shoes in her hand, like a scared rabbit and took off for the city. Since Benny hadn't acted any differently around Jason, he bet the older man didn't know what had happened between his niece and his boss. Sonny definitely wasn't going to be the one to tell him.

"Boss," Francis stuck his head in the door and grimaced. "Jason's here."

He sighed and set his pen down on the desk. "Thanks, Francis. Go ahead and leave for the night. Tell Max to wait downstairs in the car. Nobody needs to be around for this conversation."

"Alright, see you in the morning."

Then he all but fled the room and the office area. Sonny couldn't say that he blamed the guard. He didn't want to be around for this conversation either, but it had to be done. Especially since Alexis had called him out of the blue the other day and said she was feeling guilty about her leaving town, and if he could guarantee nobody followed him, he should come down and meet their daughter. There was no way he was passing up this opportunity, and he needed his friend to pull his head out of his butt so he could deal effectively with the workers.

"Your little errand boy said you wanted to see me," Jason nearly snarled as he walked into the office and dropped into the chair across from the desk. "What have I done wrong this time?"

"You fell in love with our lawyer and she left. Welcome to the club." He knew he was being flip, but he wasn't going to coddle Jason on this when he'd been growling at everyone since she left. "Look, I don't know what went down between you two, but you're the one who told me that I had to suck it up and keep going when Alexis left carrying my baby. Do the same. You want to go see Elizabeth, be my guest. You want to get on with your life, do so. But stop taking strips of flesh off of every man in this company because you're unhappy. You've got a job to do, I need you to do it; if you can't you're no good to me."

Jason sat up a little straighter in his chair, and looked at him in disbelief. Sonny felt for him, he really did. He knew what it was like to want someone who didn't want to want you back. He knew what it was like to be with them, and have them leave town. And because he was getting the opportunity to go see Alexis and their daughter, he sighed and leaned forward, his tone softening.

"Look, man, I could see you were attracted to her. It drove me crazy at first because...well, you know why. But I also saw the way she looked at you. And whatever happened, it's obviously tearing you up inside. You think you don't have a chance because she high-tailed it back to the city. But you never say never, man. Alexis invited me down to see her and Kristina. I thought I'd only get to see pictures of my little girl, but I'm getting this chance."

"She...she invited you down?" Jason asked.

He laughed. "Yeah, can you believe it? I'm gonna head down there for a week or so. See how it goes. Maybe leave my return a little open-ended. Which means you gotta step up and run things man. You can't have the foreman scared to come in here and tell you a shipment's been delayed, and you can't have the guards drawing straws to see who has to tell you that Alcazar's sniffing around on the docks. Can you do it? Or do I need to tell Johnny to step up?"

"I'll do it," Jason said with quiet determination.

"Good. And think about what you're going to do about Elizabeth. Call her; do something. But stop letting it tear you up like this. Okay?"

The younger man rolled his lips in thought and then nodded. "Okay. I...I'll think about it."

"Good," Sonny said as he stood. "Come on, let's go. I gotta finish packing.

It had been the longest three weeks of her life.

She had done a job, done it well and been paid handsomely for it, but now she was back to her regular job. She caught up with her friends, she'd touched base with her clients, and she was working. Doing what she wanted, what she said made her happy and content. Yet she was miserable.

She was nervous, on edge, convinced that somehow her uncle would find out what she'd done. Part of her tried to convince herself that it didn't matter. She was an adult, he wasn't her client any longer, she wasn't a virgin, if her uncle did find out, and they'd be embarrassed briefly and then vow to never speak of it again. Because it certainly wasn't like it was going to happen again. No, she only made mistakes once, learned from them and moved on.

So why did the other part want to argue that it wasn't a mistake? That exploring something further with Jason Morgan wouldn't be the worst thing she could do? Probably because the bits and pieces she did remember of their dance, their stumbling up to his bedroom, their coming together could still make her cheeks flush and fill her with a sense of fulfillment she'd never had before. Hormones. Sex. She tried to convince herself that just because Jason was good in bed - from what she could remember - didn't mean that she should throw away every principle that she held important and start up an affair with the man.

Besides, it wasn't exactly like he was beating down her door telling her he couldn't get enough of their time together. But then again, why should he? She'd bolted from his room before he woke up; even he was a smart enough man to get the message behind that. And it wasn't like there was a shortage of women throwing themselves at him. Of course he wasn't going to come chasing after a silly nit like her who'd told him to step off the street and play in traffic.

So, why did that hurt so much?

Probably because she was frightened out of her mind.

She was late. Not just a couple of days late, but over a week. She told herself not to worry, but every time she said that, all it did was stress her out even more.

Putting it off as long as she could, she finally told herself to suck it up and go to the drugstore and buy a pregnancy test. After all, she hid in a dark alley and snapped surreptitious of Faith Roscoe and a dirty cop. She fought, and held her own pretty well against Jason. She'd lied to her uncle on the phone and told him that she was so tired after her drive back from Port Charles that she fell asleep on the couch and didn't wake up once and she was so sorry she didn't call him and tell him she was home.

Certainly she could spend ten bucks on a plastic strip that she had to pee on. She should just stop getting worked up in what ifs and bite the bullet. Find out one way or the other. Then she'd figure out what to do after that. So now she just needed to open up the box, go into the bathroom and take the stupid test.

"Okay, I can do this," she said forcefully as she stood and rolled her shoulders. "One step. Simple easy. Then I'll know."

She set the strip on the box and washed her hands, glancing at the clock. Three minutes. It took more time to boil an egg. She could wait three minutes. Especially, she glanced over her shoulder, when she had a phone call to distract her.

She was going to Hell. There was no doubt about it. She was lying to the man she loved more than her father, who accepted her, who always encouraged her, and she believed truly wanted her to be happy. As opposed to her parents who said they wanted her to be happy, until she told them she wasn't going to medical school but law school. Then they didn't have time for her anymore. Not like Benny did.

All he wanted to do was talk to her, see how she was doing, and she couldn't make up an excuse fast enough to get off the phone with him. There was no way she could casually talk to him while she was waiting to find out if she was pregnant with his boss's baby. Lying that she was just on her way out the door to meet with a client, she promised to call him just as soon as she could, all the while telling herself she was a horrible person. A horrible niece. She was definitely going to Hell.

Hitting the end button she took a deep breath and walked into the bathroom. Time to find out if she was going to be a mother.

He couldn't seem to think straight. All he could think about the entire time Sonny was gone was going to see Elizabeth, and how he would be able to convince her to give him a chance. He knew that by letting her run out and not making any attempt before then to contact her wasn't exactly going to endear him to her, but he had to try.

He was surprised, and yet glad, when Sonny returned home after only a week. His friend couldn't stop smiling, and when he talked about Kristina the smiles would grow even larger. He had pictures and stories, and even proudly talked about the juice his daughter accidentally spilled on him. He'd decided not to push Alexis by staying too long, hoping that she'd invite him back soon and that the visits would grow longer as Alexis grew more comfortable with the situation.

The day after Sonny got back and Jason filled him in on the businesses, he told his friend he was taking some time off. He was going to go see Elizabeth and hope she didn't take his head off. The older man smiled and wished him good luck, telling him to take what time he needed. It was nice to have the encouragement.

Arriving in New York City, he thought about calling her, but didn't want to give her a chance to duck out before his arrival. Hopefully she'd be home, and if not, he'd camp out in her building's lobby until she arrived. But when he got there, the doorman was nowhere in sight and there didn't appear to be someone at the desk. So, he took a chance and headed up to her apartment. She wasn't home, something that didn't surprise him since it was the middle of the afternoon and he debated if he should go back downstairs and wait...or let himself inside and surprise her.

Knowing, even as he pulled out his lock picks and glanced down the hall, that she would blast him for breaking into her apartment, he did it anyway.

Her apartment was much like he expected. It was organized, but not freakishly neat. Her music tastes ran the gamut, as did her movie collection. She had the complete Godfather movie collection and he wondered what the story behind that was. Deciding that since he was already a snoop, he might as well go for it all, and he opened doors until he found her bedroom. The room was a little more feminine than the rest of the apartment, pictures and knick knacks cluttered the shelves and dresser top, clearly mementos she wanted to keep and remember fondly.

As the time stretched on and the shadows lengthened, he began to grow restless in the confined space. He searched through her refrigerator for something to drink, not surprised she didn't have beer, and grabbed a Coke. When the can was empty, he then searched for her trashcan. Of course she couldn't have it sitting out by the counter like a normal person. She probably had it tucked in a closet or under the sink or some other odd such thing, and as he grumbled because he couldn't find it, he pulled open a large drawer which contained her recycling bin. Where four home pregnancy test boxes sat on top of the pile.

Pregnant.

Stunned he leaned back against the counter and stared at the pastel pink and blue boxes. She was taking home pregnancy tests. She could be pregnant. He could be a father. He ran a hand over his face and his eyes drifted shut as he realized that he never once asked her about birth control that night.

He dropped the can in the recycling pile and renewed his search for her garbage. He needed to find the test sticks. He had to know. Was she pregnant, or were they negative? Every trash can in the house was empty; she must have emptied them recently. He was just about to go in search of the garbage dumpster when he stopped and told himself to take a deep breath. It was ridiculous to go searching for a needle in a haystack, he needed to just wait. Wait for her to get home and tell him.

Sinking down onto the couch he tried to make sense of everything. If she was pregnant, he would of course help her. He would do everything he could for her, anything she wanted. Laughing, he realized that he'd buy her an island just like Sonny had if that's what she wanted. Hopefully she'd allow him in her life, or at the very least their child's life. He thought he knew her well enough that she wouldn't keep this from him, that she wouldn't deprive him of knowing his child.

Of course, that was if she was even pregnant, he told himself. It wasn't for certain. And he couldn't pounce on her the moment she walked in the door when she might be angry, or frightened, or any number of other emotions.

Unable to sit still, he stood and walked to the window, looking down at the street and wondering how much longer he was going to have to wait.

Stupid home pregnancy tests. 99% accurate the boxes claimed. Just like the tests used in doctor's offices. She hated them. And their manufacturers, and the stupid actors in the commercials who looked so happy or relieved to find out yes or no for certain.

All she'd wanted to know was one way or the other. Then she could figure out what to do with her life. But each and every single test came back inconclusive. It was hard to read, was this a yes or was it a no? How hard could it be to pee on a stick and find out? Apparently for her...it was a Herculean feat.

With each test her heart would thunder in her chest, her palms would feel sweaty and she would alternate between the meanings behind her please, please, please chants. Sometimes the thought of being pregnant scared her to death and she told herself it was the absolute best thing if the test came back negative. She couldn't have Jason Morgan's baby. She hardly knew him. What she did know about him absolutely convinced her that his life was not conducive to raising a child. Then came the moments where she would smile as she imagined being pregnant. Having a child to raise and love, and having that child be Jason's. Images of that night had bubbled through the surface of her mind, and her breath would catch as she remembered the infinite tenderness he showed her, even when they were both wild and out of control unable to get enough of each other. She saw a different side of him that night, from what she could remember, and she knew that despite all her best efforts, she was definitely beginning to fall for him.

Unable to bear the uncertainty any longer, she called her doctor and begged to get lab tests done. She'd gone to the lab the day before and today she'd gone to the doctor's. Where she found out for certain she wasn't pregnant. Her doctor told her she was anemic, that her blood levels were a little off, but she wasn't pregnant.

She surprised herself, and her doctor, when silent tears of disappointment streamed down her face and she couldn't seem to stop them. That was when she knew, she was hopelessly gone over Jason Morgan. And the die had been cast. She'd run out of his room, she hadn't picked up the phone; she hadn't even asked her uncle about him. How could she suddenly call him up and say, "Hey, I thought I was pregnant, turns out I wasn't. Want to get together for drinks?"

She felt ill. That hollow emptiness borne of disappointment. It was burning through her and she clutched at her stomach, trying to keep the pain from spreading. Her head bowed with grief as she let herself into her apartment, and fresh tears flooded her eyes as she turned and slid the locks back into place. As she pressed her hand to her stomach another memory coursed through her.

A memory of laying stretched out next to Jason, her fingers playing through the hair at the nape of his neck as he kissed a trail from her neck down to her stomach. He paused and looked up at her, his eyes holding a look she had never seen before. You are so beautiful.

"Elizabeth?"

She yelped and spun around, her eyes widening as she saw Jason standing in her apartment. She couldn't even begin to imagine what he was doing there or how he got in, her brain was stuck in the memory replaying itself in her mind. Where he was looking at her with an intensity that made her breath catch in her throat as he gently trapped her chin between his thumb and his forefinger as he lowered his face inches from hers.

"Yes, you are," he said when she tried to brush off his statement. "You were cute that night in the police station in your jeans and ponytail, you were sexy in your little outfits you wore to court, and when you walked in the door downstairs tonight you were absolutely drop dead gorgeous. No matter what you wear, no matter if you're yelling at me or saving my butt by risking your own, you are beautiful."

She blushed, feeling more uncomfortable under his praise than the fact that she was naked in bed with him. "Stop," she whispered."

"No," he shook his head. "I won't. You're beautiful, Elizabeth. And I'm falling in love with you."

Jason Morgan was standing in her apartment. He wasn't in Port Charles, he was in her apartment. And he'd told her he was falling in love with her.

Her life was completely spiraling out of control.

There was no other explanation for it. How else could she explain that she was so surprised, shocked, and oddly touched, that he had broken into her apartment. On the day she found out that she wasn't pregnant with his child. She wanted to sit down on the floor and weep. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and cry. Her vision blurred and she realized that no matter where she was, she was going to cry.

"E-Elizabeth?" he asked, his voice uncertain, and he took an unsteady step towards her. "Are you alright?"

She tried to open her mouth to say 'yes', to assure him she was fine, but instead her face crumpled, along with her body, and tears began to stream down her face. He stepped beside her, gently - almost unsurely - placed his arm around her shoulders and steered her across the room to her couch. She expected him to sit her down, then stand back and stuff his hands in his pockets while she cried. Instead, he sat down beside her, tucked her into his side, and let her soak his shirt with his tears, while he rubbed comforting circles on her back.

When the tears faded, embarrassment set in and he didn't fight her when she pulled back. She pulled her feet underneath her, and the overstuffed suede throw pillow from the corner in front her. Jason sat there, his arm resting lightly on the back of the couch and watched her quietly.

"I'm sorry," she apologized.

"It's okay," he assured her. "Are you alright?"

"No," she said bluntly. "I..."

She trailed off, not sure how exactly she should broach the fact that she'd thought she was pregnant. She wasn't. Did he really need to know? Wasn't it more important to find out why she was here, than to suddenly be thrown off course by the fact that he could have been a father?

"Elizabeth, I...I'm sorry I surprised you by being in your apartment. I know I should have waited in the lobby."

Surprisingly, she wasn't angry about him being in her apartment. It seemed like such a thing for him to do, she couldn't imagine him sitting in a lobby waiting for her to arrive. Letting himself into her apartment was active, sitting around was passive. He was definitely a man of action. "It's alright," she told him. "It's odd, but I'm really not mad. Maybe it hasn't hit me yet."

He seemed unsure of what to say for a minute, but apparently accepted her statement and forged on. "I...I came here because I wanted to see you. No, I needed to see you."

"You do?" she puzzled. "Are you in trouble?"

"No," he laughed. "I couldn't stop thinking about you. I...I know that I was an idiot most of the time you were in Port Charles, and I'm sorry for that. But that night at Jake's..."

That night at Jake's. There was a loaded statement. "I was drunk. I-I was so embarrassed in the morning that I bolted before you even woke up."

"I know. I figured you regretted it, told myself that I could forget it...but I couldn't. That's why I came."

She closed her eyes. He was being honest. He'd taken such a huge chance by showing up here. He came for her. Maybe it wasn't just drunk rambling when he said he was falling in love with her. He came all the way to New York City after she'd bolted from his room and never called.

"I...I tried to forget that night. Couldn't believe that I'd slept with you, told myself it was a huge mistake." Her breath caught just a bit, "But that's not really true. Because I wasn't unaffected by you, and part of the reason I went to Jake's that night was because I thought I might see you there. It was just easier to say to cling to a rule I'd set for myself, than to admit that I'd seen a different side of you."

Clenching the corner of the pillow held protectively in front of her, she told herself she needed to tell him. Yet, she barely had a handle on her emotions, she wasn't sure she could explain her reaction at the door to him. "There...there's something you should know. I-I was late...and..."

"I saw the boxes," he said, placing his hand gently on hers as her grip on the pillow tightened. "I saw the pregnancy test boxes in the recycling bin."

"You did?" she gasped. He knew. That was why he was being so calm, so open. He thought she was pregnant, and so he was trying to keep her calm. He probably wanted to yell and scream, and he was only doing this because she might be carrying his baby.

He nodded. "I saw the boxes. I-I'm so sorry, Elizabeth. I never even thought about birth control that night. I-I don't know what I was thinking. I never assume that the woman is on the pill, I always protect myself and my partner. I...I'm clean, but I understand if you want to get tested."

"I'm not pregnant," she said as she stood up and turned away. She hadn't thought of disease, she'd been so focused on whether she was pregnant or not. How could she have been so stupid? Her brain had apparently flown out the window completely that night.

"You're not?" His voice was different, and she turned, peered at him questioningly. "You're not pregnant?"

"No. So you don't have to worry about it. Okay, whatever the real reason you came here, you can stop pretending. I'm not pregnant, so stop acting like you care."

"You think I'm pretending?" he asked as he stood up and advanced on her. "I'm not lying. I came down here because I couldn't get you out of my head. I wanted to see if I could somehow convince you to give us a shot. I knew it wasn't going to be easy, but I was ready to step up to the plate. Then I saw the boxes and I...I didn't know what to think. I would have done anything for you if you'd been pregnant. I would have bought you an island."

She shook her head and laughed. "What? Bought me an island?"

"Like Sonny did for Alexis. I...I would have done anything to help you, to protect you. I was concerned about you, and then when I saw you, I didn't know if you were sick or heartbroken. This wasn't an act."

"Oh my...you were serious." Her eyes were wide and she covered her mouth. "That night at Jake's. I..." heat bloomed on her cheeks, "I can't remember much of that night. When I turned around and saw you standing there...you told me you were falling in love with me."

He swallowed hard and nodded. "I did...I am. That's why I came, Elizabeth. That's why I stayed. I...it wasn't about a baby."

"I know."

"Are you okay? I mean, with the test and everything?"

Honesty. He'd shown so much of it, how could she not reciprocate? "I thought not being pregnant would be the best thing. We're so different; it was a drunken one night stand, that was no way to bring a life into the world. But when the doctor told me I wasn't...I hurt. I felt so empty, so disappointed."

When tears started to fall again, he closed the distance between them and gently wrapped his arms around her. "I know...it's okay. I...I kinda wish you'd been pregnant, but a baby wouldn't have solved anything, would it?"

She shook her head against his chest; a baby wouldn't have changed anything about their lives. It would have been an unfair burden on an innocent child to have it be the only reason two people came together. And as wonderful as it was that Jason had shown up, wanting to work things out with her, she didn't see that it was possible. Nothing had changed, and didn't know that anything ever would.

Allowing herself to have a moment of weakness and comfort, she eventually pulled back. It was time to face reality, not an emotion distorted view of it. "It's probably for the best that the test was negative. Because nothing's changed."

"Of course things have changed," he countered. "I care about you, I...this isn't just physical for me, Elizabeth. And you said it wasn't just physical for you. That changes things."

"No, it doesn't, Jason." She had to make him see this. "So we're attracted, and we care. Caring's not enough. Love isn't enough. Plenty of people fall in love, get married, have kids, and end up getting divorced because their lives are so completely different from each other. Our lives are different. You don't just run a coffee warehouse, and I'm a lawyer. I did one case for you, turned my back on ethics and principles that I have held tightly since law school. Are we supposed to change who we are?"

"No," he shook his head. "I'm not asking you to change. It was your firmness in your beliefs that drew me to you."

"Then you understand why it won't work. Why it would never work out between us."

Jason looked up when the cab stopped and when he realized they were at Elizabeth's building, he handed over a fifty for an eleven dollar ride and climbed out back seat. Nodding to the doorman he carried the take-out bag in one hand and a newspaper in the other. He climbed onto the elevator and punched the button for Elizabeth's floor, same as he had done for the past week. It was just easier to get around the city in a cab, than to try to find a place to park his bike on this street. Plus, it was hard to carry a take-out bag on the back.

When the elevator arrived at her floor, he turned to the left and walked past six doors, then raised his hand to knock. Elizabeth opened the door, a small smile on her face, but her eyes still held trepidation and reluctance, and let him in. She already had plates on the table and she walked into the kitchen to grab a beer for him and a glass of wine for herself. It seemed almost normal, except that normal seemed to be the last word either of them would use for the situation.

He refused to believe her when she said it could never work out between them. He told her that there had to be some way they could make it work, and she shot down every suggestion he made. She didn't want a long-distance relationship, no matter how fast he could travel the distance between New York and Port Charles. He offered to move to New York. He could handle interests there, go to Port Charles when needed, and she wouldn't be compromising anything because she wouldn't be working for him. And late on the fifth night of him making suggestions, he said he'd quit the mob if that's what it took.

That was when she bolted from the room like a scared rabbit and refused to come out until he left for the night. Last night's dinner was strained, they barely spoke to each other, and he wondered how tonight's would go. He didn't know what more he could say to her, how many more straws he could blindly grasp at hoping to find one that she thought was plausible. As much as he hated to admit it, he was beginning to wonder if they ever would be able to find something that worked.

Silently they set up the dishes on the table and he scooped some baked ravioli onto his plate while she pulled several slices of garlic bread out of the foil wrapped sleeve and set one on her plate while handing him the other. He swallowed in disappointment as it seemed like it was another night like the one before, and they wouldn't be saying much.

"I spoke to my uncle today," she said, surprising him by breaking the silence, and by mentioning someone from Port Charles. "He was saying he sure hopes you get back from wherever you ran off to soon. I didn't say you were here, though I was surprised he didn't know."

"I didn't mention it to him," he said. "I...I wanted to see if we could make this work first before I said something. Besides, he wasn't happy when Sonny was chasing after you; I doubted he would have been happy knowing about what happened at Jake's."

She coughed suddenly, dislodging a piece of ravioli she'd swallowed without properly chewing, and he knew it was because he'd mentioned the bar's name. They rarely spoke about that incident in the past week, and he cursed himself for bringing it up. She'd probably clam up again and he'd lose the opportunity to talk.

"No," she shook her head. "I doubt he would. I know I have no plans to tell him anytime soon about that. But that's also because he thinks I'm a good little girl who's planning to wait until I'm married. Despite him working for you and Sonny, he has an idealized view of certain things. Me in particular."

"Is that why you think we can't work?"

Pausing with her wine glass half-way to her mouth, she looked at him with owlish eyes. He pressed on, "You don't want to disappoint your uncle? Or you're embarrassed?"

"Embarrassed? I'm not embarrassed of you," she told him. "We could never work out because we're too different. Jason," she sighed, "we've been over this so many times. Do we have to keep doing this?"

"Yes," he shot back. "Because I think something's got you running scared. You claim you only came to Port Charles and did that one job because Benny begged you. But you could have said no. You'd been doing a good job of it for months apparently, but you gave in. Why?"

"Because Benny said his bosses were in jail, and they needed to get out now."

"We still had to wait hours for you to show up," he countered. "Benny could have found someone else in town. I think you came because you wanted to see what it was like, what the world your uncle worked in was like, and I think you got scared when you started to like it. You have principles, and I'm not mocking them, but I think you're still running from the truth of the situation. You don't want to give us a shot because somehow you'd be admitting you like the work, that you like the people. I think you're afraid."

Elizabeth leaned back in her chair and placed her napkin beside her plate. "I'm afraid? I stood in an alley and took pictures of Faith Roscoe. And I'm afraid?"

"I think you can do brave things and still be afraid. Just because you took a risk to get the proof to clear Sonny and I doesn't negate that you were probably frightened by the situation. But I think you're mostly afraid of what people will think about you if you come to work for us, or if you start dating me."

"You think I'm afraid of what people will say about me behind my back?" she asked while raising her eyebrows in challenge. "You think I'm so delicate that I can't handle people disparaging me? Well let me tell you, Jason Morgan, I've had people talk about me behind my back, I've had them walk straight up to me and call me a whore to my face. This has nothing to do with me being afraid of my reputation."

He sat there stunned for a minute at the pure fury that rolled off her. But he also saw hurt on her face, an echo of the look she got that night in his room after their fight in the alley. "When have people called you a whore?" he demanded, the first thought that popped into his brain. And it angered him that someone would say that about her.

"I...I...it was a long time ago," she said, suddenly flustered. "Don't worry about it. Forget I mentioned it."

"No," he pressed, standing when she did and reaching out to grab her wrist. She flinched at the contact and he immediately released her. "What...what happened, Elizabeth? This...this is like that night I saw your scar."

Her hand reached back and covered the spot on her skin through her clothes, and her face paled slightly. "It's none of your business."

"Alright. Fair enough." He turned and gathered his jacket and was halfway across the room when she spoke.

"You're a jerk. You think if you pretend you're going to leave I'll suddenly cave in and tell you what happened? Why? What makes you think I have to tell you anything?"

"You don't." He turned and folded his arms. "You don't want to tell me, fine. I don't have a right to ask you, but I want to know. And rather than stay here and pretend that I'm not bothered by the fact that you were stabbed, or that I'm not bothered that someone would call you a whore, I'm going to go. Because whether you want to believe this or not, it hurts me that you're so clearly in pain still over something that happened to you. So am I excused, counselor? Or should we just keep yelling at each other?"

"Don't let me stop you." Her tone was full of scorn, all of which he knew was false because he could see the tears shimmering in her eyes.

But instead he just shook his head and left. He punched the button for the elevator and climbed on when it arrived. A couple was already on the elevator, and his jaw tightened when he saw them. The elderly husband had his arm wrapped around his wife's waist, and they were talking quietly about their son who'd been offered a job in Philadelphia, and how they couldn't believe their baby might be moving. By the time they reached the lobby Jason was ready to explode. He stalked across the faux marble floor and burst through the door, not even bothering that he'd nearly clipped the doorman in the jaw when the man turned to open it.

He stalked down the street, but the father he moved away from Elizabeth's building, the slower he went. It would be so easy to just storm away and give up. Accept that he'd tried, she wasn't willing, and slink back home with his tail tucked firmly between his legs. But he didn't want to do that. Despite all the obstacles that seemed impossible to overcome, he refused to believe it. There had to be a way.

But he was never going to find it if he left. He'd walked right into that fight. So desperate to get her talking, he'd just kept pushing. And then when she was clearly upset, he walked out. Man, he was an idiot.

Turning around, he walked back towards the front. The doorman eyed him cautiously, but opened the door anyways, and he didn't even head for the elevator, but instead took the stairs back up to Elizabeth's floor. Maybe if he worked some of his energy out he'd be calmer. By the time he reached the eleventh floor, he was taking the steps slower, less frenzied. He wasn't going to push her for answers she wasn't willing to give, but he wasn't going to let her push him away either. She was going to find out it wasn't so easy to get rid of him, no matter how many times she tried to make him see it was for the best.

He knocked on her door, and stuffed his hands in his pockets while he waited. When he a minute passed, he knocked again and cast a glance down the hall. He wasn't going to be deterred if she thought not opening the door would make him leave. Reaching into his pocket for his lock picks, he paused and wondered if she'd even locked it after he left. Testing the handle, he frowned at the lack of safety, when it yielded under his touch.

But then he saw her sitting on the couch, feet pulled up underneath her as she cried and forgot all about telling her it wasn't safe to leave the door unlocked. He flipped the deadbolt behind him, dropped his jacket on the chair, and crossed the room. She was curled into the corner of the sofa and she resisted when he sat down beside her, and tried to tug her to him, but eventually she relented.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, his eyes closing as he called himself ten kinds of fool. "I shouldn't have tried to pick a fight with you, and I shouldn't have pushed. I'm sorry I left."

"I certainly wasn't giving you a reason to say," she said, shifting slightly against him. "I haven't made this easy on you."

"Who cares about easy? The best things in life are worth fighting for, and I consider you worth it. Whatever happened, I don't have a right to push, just because I want to know. You'll tell me or you won't, but don't think for one minute that I'm going anywhere until we work this out."

Elizabeth woke up and tried to move, but was stopped by a sharp pain in her neck. She was getting too old to sleep on the couch like this. Of course, sleeping on the couch next to Jason probably didn't help.

When he came back last night, he didn't push her for answers or explanations for why she freaked out on him. In fact, he said very little to her, just held her tucked into his side. It was relaxing, and despite knowing she should call it a night and head to her room, she stayed where she was and soon was asleep. She hadn't expected to sleep for several hours.

Trying to not wake him up, she sat up and slowly stretched her neck to the side. Sleeping - she peered at the clock on the VCR - five hours in the same position had put one wicked cramp in her muscles.

"You okay?"

She gasped and turned and saw Jason awake and scrubbing a hand over his face. "Neck," she grimaced.

"I meant about this. With me being here?" Even as he spoke he brought his hand up under her hair and rubbed the side of her neck she'd been kneading.

It was the second time she woke up next to Jason Morgan, and neither time had been expected, but at least she wasn't flaming with embarrassment to get away from him this time. She closed her eyes and sighed. "Yeah, I'm okay with you being here. It wasn't what I'd expected, especially after flipping out on you last night, but...but I'm glad."

She turned, breaking contact with him and faced him. "Look about what happened-"

"You don't owe me explanations," he shook his head.

"Yeah, I think I do. You saw the scar, you know I was stabbed," she licked her lips. "I...I was fourteen and walking home from a friend's house. I probably should have called my brother and had him pick me up, but I was young...I was stupid. I was walking through the park..."

He placed his hand over hers and squeezed gently. "It's okay. I...I think I understand. You were attacked."

She bowed her head and whispered. "I was raped. And he stabbed me as he left. That night you saw the scar...I hardly knew you. What I did know, you were a jerk who was always on my case and the last thing I was going to do was tell you something so personal."

Jason placed his finger under her chin and raised her head to meet his gaze. "I'm sorry I was rude, and I'm sorry I pushed."

She shook her head. "I know. It's...it's just hard to talk about it, and I don't like the reactions I get from people afterwards. I dealt with it, but you would say things that would just catch me off guard."

Pulling her hand out of his, she leaned back in the corner of the couch and pulled her legs in front of her, wrapping her arms around her knees. They had so many other things to talk about besides ancient history. Her anger last night hadn't been because of her rape. It was because Jason was right. She was afraid. She was afraid to step out of the life she'd constructed for herself, out of the structure she'd created and come to depend on.

"You did that to me last night," she told him. "But it wasn't about the rape. It...you were right when you said I was scared. I am afraid. Not of what my uncle or others will say, I'm afraid of change. I went to law school here and I haven't left this existence I created. People don't know about the rape, they don't know that I'm Benny Abrams niece, I do my job, I'm good at it, and I like it. I had very clear ideas of how to deal with my clients, and that was to never get involved personally with them."

She shook her head and propped her elbow on the couch. "I don't think I'm explaining this very well. Getting involved with you...it's a change. It broke all the personal rules, not to mention ethical, I had."

"So, because I was your client, you should never get involved with me?"

Resting her cheek on her palm she sighed. "You're my ex-client. There's nothing wrong with getting involved with you now."

He frowned. "Then what's the problem?"

"I don't want to do a long distance relationship."

"I know," he said.

"You moving to New York...it isn't what you want. You like Port Charles. You like working for Sonny, not being in charge of things. I could see that when I met you. It's clear in the way you dress, the way you act. Tell me honestly that in a couple of months you wouldn't be miserable here."

"I...I don't know. But I'm willing to try."

She knew he would. He would gladly move here to allow her to keep working in her practice and keep their lives separate.

"Yeah, well, maybe it's time I tried something."

He furrowed his brow in question. "What?"

"Maybe it's time I stopped being so afraid of certain things. I liked being with Benny in Port Charles. I was closer to him and my aunt than I am to my own parents. I know he's lonely, and I always tell him I'll visit him, but I never do. Something always comes up and I say I'll visit him later. I don't want him to die and for me to regret that I never got away to visit him."

She shrugged her shoulders. "So, maybe Port Charles isn't such a bad town as I made it out to be. I loved going there to visit them; I think I could give up the city to live there. But...that doesn't solve my job."

"Sonny and I still need a lawyer," he offered.

"I know," she sighed. "But I don't think I'm cut out to be a mouthpiece for the mob. That one job was fine... I don't care what you do for a living, Jason, but I don't think I can make mine defending you. However, I doubt after having worked for you once, that people won't exactly be anxious to hire me."

"So that's why you say we can't be together? Because you don't think you could find clients?"

She peered at him, and then stood up. "Maybe that seems crazy to you. But being a lawyer is important to me. It's what I chose to be when I was 14 years old. I've admitted I like you, I've listened to you when you suggested things on how we can be together. But those solutions wouldn't have really worked for you. I don't know how moving to Port Charles would really work out for me. Who would I work for? I'm not going to move someplace and not have a way to support myself, that's not who I am."

"I know," he answered, standing up also. "I know you're independent, you take care of yourself and you aren't going to live with your uncle and live off his money. Or mine."

She slumped against the wall. "I...I wish I could say I could work for you and Sonny and be okay with it. But I don't know, Jason."

"What if you worked for us, but at the warehouse?"

Tilting her head to the side she studied him and his words. "The warehouse?"

"The coffee warehouse. It's a legitimate business, and it's a headache sometimes," he admitted. "When we have a lawyer, they're always so busy dealing with the police arresting us, or whatever, that sometimes the warehouse business gets neglected. You could handle the coffee business solely. There's plenty of work there, trust me."

"So I work for you and Sonny, but only for the coffee business? Do you think Sonny would agree to that? I don't want to agree to this and then get sucked into taking on cases for the other side of the business."

He smiled and nodded. "You leave Sonny and our lack of a lawyer to me. I've got a cousin who used to work for us, and I think I can find him and convince him to come back and handle that side of business for us."

"What about the fact that you'd be my employer now? It's a gray matter now."

"Is it that big of a gray area?" he challenged.

"I...I don't know," she shrugged. She was considering moving to Port Charles, they both knew what that meant for them. Would dating him really preclude her from working for him?

"What about this. I'm Sonny's full partner, but I already let him handle most of the contracts already. What if I became a silent partner, or gave him full power to make decisions, and then he'd really be the only person you deal with?"

He was trying to not press too hard, or smile at the fact she wasn't really fighting him anymore. It just seemed to be going so fast and she didn't want to agree to something in the heat of the moment, and then regret it later on. If she moved to Port Charles, she was going to make sure she was certain about everything it entailed. It sounded reasonable now, but she'd also had very little sleep. She thought bungee jumping sounded like a good idea when she'd been awake for 26 hours.

"Can I think about this?" she asked softly. "It...it sounds like it could work. But I want to be sure, Jason. I don't want to say yes and then regret it."

A small smile curved the corner of his mouth. "The fact that you're even thinking about it? Yeah, take whatever time you need."

"Jason?"

He looked up from the mess of papers on his desk and tilted his head in question at Sonny who stood in the doorway? "Yeah?"

"I've got some contracts that need to be signed," he said as he closed the door. "And I also wanted to see how you were."

Jason stared down at the mess on his desk, apparently while he was gone, the guards had taken to using his office as their own and there were empty Chinese food cartons and scattered burrito wrappers on his desk. He'd come in this morning to find a disaster, and none of the guilty culprits any place to be found. Pushing debris aside to create a small blank space, he quickly scrawled his signature across the forms and handed them back to Sonny.

When his boss and friend continued to sit there, he looked up. "You need something else?"

"Yeah," Sonny said. "How are you?"

"What do you mean, how am I? I'm fine. I handled what you need." He hadn't been thrilled when Sonny called and said there was a situation that he needed to come back to Port Charles for, but he couldn't really say no. Sonny had been generous in letting him be gone for nearly two weeks; he knew he couldn't expect to stay in New York until Elizabeth made a decision one way or the other. So he came back, did the job and now he was sitting in the warehouse trying to pretend like he was okay with being back to work and that he didn't want to just jump on his bike and head back to New York City.

"That's not what I mean, Jason," Sonny said. "Look, I'm sorry I had to call you back here."

"Don't worry about it. Elizabeth and I talked. We...we really did. But this is probably for the best." When he told her that he needed to go back to Port Charles, she looked a little relieved. She said she hadn't decided yet, every day it seemed to go back and forth, and she was afraid she was being unfair to him to make him wait.

"For the best?" he questioned.

"I told her I wanted to be with her. I...I even offered to move to New York since she seemed so bothered about living here and being my employee." Sonny raised his eyebrows when Jason mentioned moving to New York, and he figured if that was surprising, then his next proposal would pass that. "Then I offered to be a silent partner in the warehouse if she moved here. She could be our lawyer for the coffee business only, and I would turn most of the decision making over to you so that it wouldn't really be like she was involved with her employer."

Sonny leaned back slightly in his chair. "Wow, you are serious about this, aren't you? Do you think she'll go for it?"

He shrugged and absently poked at an empty container on his desk. "I don't know. She seemed so set against us getting involved, but we finally talked...really talked, and she seemed more open to the idea. She's just frightened."

"Frightened," his friend laughed. "Not exactly the first word that comes to mind when thinking about Elizabeth Webber."

Scowling, Jason nodded. "I know. Look. I need some help on something. And Benny can't know about it."

Puzzled, Sonny leaned forward. It was an odd request, but because Jason had never made it before, apparently he was willing to hear the younger man. "What's going on?"

"I...I don't want to give you all the details because they're not mine to give, but...Elizabeth was hurt when she was a teenager. I want the police report, and I want to know if the person who hurt her was caught and taken care of." Taking a deep breath, he spoke what he knew he didn't have to, what Sonny would understand, but he wanted there to be no doubt between them. "And if the law didn't take care of him, then I will."

The older man leaned back in his chair and pulled his lips into a thin line while inhaling deeply through his nose. "You mean her rape, don't you?"

When Jason's eyes widened in response, Sonny just nodded. "Benny came to me a couple of years after he started working for me, before you came into the organization. Said he felt uncomfortable asking for this, but he needed a personal favor. He gave me a few details, said his niece had been assaulted, the perp got released because of an overzealous police officer who tried to fix the evidence to make sure the guy went to jail, and Benny wanted the man to pay. He gave me a cleaned up copy of the police report, her name wasn't on there, but after I met her and saw how close she was to her aunt and uncle I suspected it might be her."

Impatient to find out what happened to the pig who raped Elizabeth, he interrupted and tried to steer Sonny back on course. "So what you do? Did you find him?"

"I put Francis on it," he answered. "He went to Colorado, sniffed around, and found out that there'd been another attack shortly after the Webbers moved to New York, and this time the police followed procedure down to the letter. He was arrested, convicted and sent to prison, but only for the second rape. Elizabeth's case had been thrown out and they couldn't bring charges against him for that."

"So he's in jail?" he asked. Somehow it didn't seem right that the man who had attacked at least two women was just sitting in jail, eating three squares a day.

"He was in jail," Sonny smiled malevolently. "Francis has contacts all over the place, man, and he got a prisoner inside who didn't like the guy to begin with to agree to do a little prison style vengeance. The prisoner got a couple of his buddies to start a fight in the cafeteria, it quickly escalated, and in the confusion, he stabbed Elizabeth's attacker with a shank. Guy bled out on the floor before the guards ever knew he'd been stabbed. In exchange, we're taking care of his family for the rest of their lives."

Jason smiled briefly and nodded. While there was a part of him that wanted to have been the person to take care of the man, it gave him cold pleasure to know that it had already been handled. "Did Benny ever tell her?"

"What we did?"

"No," he shook his head. "That the guy is dead."

Sonny thought for a minute, then shrugged. "I don't know. I never asked, figured it wasn't my place. So...she told you about the attack?"

"I..." he paused. "I saw the scar where she'd been stabbed, back during the trial when I found her in the alley going after Faith. We got into a fight-"

"You mean she kicked your butt," his friend interrupted with a laugh.

"I took her back to my room and saw scratches on her back. I saw the scar when I was cleaning them."

They fell silent, each man in their own thoughts, then Sonny leaned forward. The chair creaked as he shifted on the seat and clasped his hands between his knees. "Look, Jason...I know I was out of line with her earlier. And I know I said some things to you that I was wrong to say. If she comes to Port Charles...I'll respect her. You won't ever have to worry about that. If you want to be a silent partner, I'll agree. I regret a lot of things in my life, but one of the biggest is that I pushed too hard, too fast with Alexis and ruined what chance we could have had. I just had to have her in my bed that I didn't see she was spooked and uncomfortable like Elizabeth was in the beginning. I...I hope it works out for the two of you. I really do."

"Thanks, Sonny," he said. He hoped it worked out as well. He'd only left New York a week ago, but with each day that passed and he didn't hear from Elizabeth, he began to fear that if she hadn't already made up her mind, she would choose to stay there.

"Alright," his friend said as he stood. "I'll let you get back to work. Although with that mess I'm not sure how that's possible. I know I saw Johnny around here earlier, if I see him I'll send him up here to take care of this, since it's one-third his mess."

Waving his hand through the air, Jason shook his head. "Don't worry about it. It gives me something to do. Along with thinking up ways to get them back for this"

Chuckling, Sonny tapped the folder against the palm of his hand. "Then I'll leave you to it."

Opening the door, they saw Johnny standing there poised to knock. "Speaking of the devil," Sonny laughed. "I think Jason would love to have a talk with you, Johnny."

The guard shifted slightly, and then blurted out, almost in relief. "Jason has a visitor."

"A visitor?" Jason frowned.

Johnny stepped back and all thoughts of who it could possibly be screeched to a halt when he saw Elizabeth standing in the reception area. "Elizabeth."

She smiled, even as she pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth. Wordlessly Sonny excused himself from Jason's office and pulled Johnny with him. They both walked towards each other until they met just inside the doorway. "Hi," she said a bit shyly.

"Hi," he smiled back. "I... You're here. Does this mean you decided?"

She nodded and her smile grew. "Yeah. I thought about this a lot after you left and I decided it was time to stop hiding. I...I choose us, Jason. I'm moving to Port Charles."

Seven months later...

Sonny stepped out of his office and headed down the hall towards Benny's. "Hey, Benny, did Elizabeth leave the contracts for Norton Distributors with you?"

"Just a second," he said, turning to his file cabinet and pulling out the folder he was looking for. "Right here."

"Thanks," he said as he sat down and flipped through the papers inside. With Elizabeth as their lawyer the coffee business was actually flourishing. And with Justus back as their criminal lawyer, he and Jason were thwarting the attempts of the PCPD to lock them up. Of course, the harassment suit that was filed against the city because of Ross Duncan had the effect of tempering the police coming after them with no due cause. Taggart looked ready to have a coronary every time he passed by Sonny on the street.

It had been quite a shock to the man across from him when Elizabeth showed up in Port Charles and announced she was moving there, and would be coming to work for Sonny and Jason at the warehouse. It was an even bigger shock to find out that she and Jason were involved with each other. But he listened to Elizabeth when she said that this was her choice, she was happy with her decision, and that Jason respected her and didn't force her to do anything. Benny hadn't been thrilled with the relationship, but Sonny suspected that he wouldn't have approved of anybody, it wasn't just Jason. Benny and his wife had always considered Elizabeth a daughter, not just a niece, and Benny was playing the part of a pained father at watching his little girl grow up and get involved with someone.

But the older man was also happy to have his niece around. And with the two of them working together, Corinthos and Morgan coffee was showing quite a large profit. What had started out as a front, was actually a successful business that was benefiting greatly by having a full-time lawyer dedicated solely to its operation and not just when there was a lull in trips to the police station.

Satisfied with the contract, he closed the file, and smiled across at Benny. "Have you heard from Elizabeth?"

When Jason and Elizabeth announced that they were going to take a short vacation together, Benny hadn't been thrilled, but he accepted it. He simply told Jason that Elizabeth seemed happier than she had in a while, but if the younger man ever did anything to hurt her, Benny would forget Jason was his boss. Oddly, Jason had looked nervous over that statement, but swore he wouldn't. Then Benny just said to go have a good time, but to please spare him the details. Once nice thing about his lawyer and right hand man dating is that Jason was much more available; he rarely took off unless it was for business and those trips were short and efficient.

"Not since she called several days ago," he shook his head. "They were in Canada and said they were sending me something that they'd picked up. They weren't sure when they'd be back."

"Well," he shrugged. "I guess they deserve a little time extra. She certainly has deserved some R and R after getting our contracts streamlined."

"Hey, Benny," Johnny called out as the guard stepped into the office. "Oh, hey, Boss. Package came for Benny from Miss Webber."

"Thanks," the accountant smiled, and accepted the package. He opened it, extracting several pieces of paper and paused as he read them.

"Benny?" Sonny asked, his brows drawn together in question.

Benny said nothing, merely handed across the package and sat back in his chair stunned. Sonny took the envelope and looked down at the papers inside. A marriage certificate and a picture. Jason and Elizabeth's marriage certificate and a picture of them at Niagara Falls. Sonny looked up in clear surprise. "I had no idea."

"Me either," the stunned uncle shook his head.

Sonny looked through the envelope and saw a brief note from Elizabeth addressed to Benny that he handed over, and then saw a note from Jason addressed to him. They were heading to the island for their honeymoon. Call only if it was important, but it better not be. He leaned back in his chair and laughed as he looked up at the ceiling. Only these two would run off and get married like this. Sonny looked back at Benny and flashed a dimpled grinned. "You know what this means, right? Welcome to the family."

"Welcome to the island," Jason said as he set Elizabeth down after carrying her across the threshold of the room.

Elizabeth looked up at him and smiled. "It's beautiful. I mean, what I saw of it in the dark as we came straight from the airport to here. Frankly, I don't care where we are. What I care about is that I'm with you."

"I like that too," he said. "Since you showed up in Port Charles, I haven't wanted to be anywhere but next to you."

"And you certainly haven't," she chuckled. Aside from his trips out of town for business, which she never knew where he went, they'd been together since the day she showed up at his office. "You think Benny got his package yet?"

"Probably," he shrugged. "If not today, he'll get it tomorrow. We've got plenty of time before we have to go back and face him or Sonny."

"I just hope he doesn't freak too much," she said. "Not that he'd be mad, just surprised and probably disappointed he wasn't there."

He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "Are you disappointed he wasn't there?"

She smiled as she shook her head. "I had everybody there that I needed. You...and me...and baby makes three."

"What?"

"That was my surprise," she said as she bit her lip, remembering how she'd walked into their hotel room and told him she had some great news to tell him. "Only you didn't let me tell you before you whisked me off to a wedding chapel and asked to marry me."

He didn't say anything and suddenly she was nervous. Just because he'd seemed disappointed eight months ago that she wasn't pregnant, didn't mean he would be thrilled that she was now. Would he be mad she didn't tell him before they got married? As the silence dragged on, she lowered her eyes before he could see the tears that filled them and tried to extract herself from his grasp.

"Hey, hey," he said, tightening his hold on her. He raised one hand and tipped her chin up, the corners of his mouth tipping downwards as he saw the tears shimmering in her eyes. "I'm not mad. You just surprised me. Are you sure?"

She nodded. "I didn't go shopping, I went to a clinic because I was late and I didn't want to get our hopes up by buying a home test. We're having a baby."

He smiled, one that seemed to come from deep inside and could in no way be fake. "Then I say that is the second best bit of news I've gotten this week. The first, of course, was when you agreed to marry me."

"Too much talking," she said, as she wrapped her arms around him and stretched up on her toes. "There is entirely too much talking."

He chuckled against her lips, teasing her with a brief kiss. "I couldn't agree more."

The End