Never let 'em see you sweat. A rather crude phrase, but she was definitely thanking the makers of Degree right now.

Lorenzo Alcazar was everything his file described him as, and more. A cold, calculating business man. Much shrewder than his brother Luis, less prone to be overrun by emotions. Some called him heartless after the loss of his fiancée Sophia, and then again after the tragic and torrid love affair with Carly Corinthos that ended in her death and his near demise.

He was not a man to be messed with. Which was why he was rather displeased at the moment, sitting across the massive mahogany desk from her in his office. His fingers steepled together under his chin, his dark eyes glittered black diamonds in the dim lighting. He was supposed to be at a business dinner with Lois Curello regarding the musical future of his niece Sage. He was not supposed to walk into his office building to find her inside.

Frick and Frack, her inept and oh-so-dead associates had failed to warn her of his return. Had Johnny or Max given her adequate time, or even done their job of delaying him, she would have been out the door, down the stairs and back in the surveillance van that smelled like five-year-old gym socks and no one would have been none the wiser.

Instead her cover was blown, six months of surveillance work was down the drain, and the Bureau was going to rip her a new one over this screw up. She knew she'd end up with a lovely note in her service jacket informing her future unlucky bosses of how she single-handedly blew the best chance they'd ever had at capturing Lorenzo Alcazar and thus possibly getting him to roll on Sonny Corinthos.

"Please escort the lady down to the lobby and see that she gets outside safely," Alcazar said, his voice calm, lethal, and icy enough to make her feel like someone just walked over her grave. "Then call our attorney and have him take the appropriate measures."

Bubba, he looked like a Bubba, or maybe more appropriately a Guido, grabbed her by the arm and propelled her out of her seat, into the waiting elevator and didn't release his manacle disguised as a hand until he had successfully frog-marched her across the lobby and out the front door. Only by sheer willpower and years of training was she able to stay on her feet after his forceful release. She would have been indignant over the treatment, if only she weren't dreading the reaction she would get once she got back to the van.

As she rounded the corner she was accosted by Max who thought he'd be helpful and tell her she was screwed. "Man, Lizzie, the bigwigs are pissed over this one."

"Thanks for the update, Max. I guess since you didn't warn me Alcazar was on his way into the building this was the least you could do, right?"

"Hey," he shot back. "The guy came in through the underground entrance we can't in to. Not our fault."

"Not your fault?" she stopped and advanced on him. "Who was supposed to be tailing him since he left the house, who assured me that I had plenty of time because Lois might be the one to melt his icy exterior and he'd probably spend hours wining and dining her? That was you! So imagine my surprise when he came in and caught me."

She spun and walked away. "Not your fault. Man, I am so getting you and Johnny back for this. Of course, officially I'll say it was just bad luck, but you know as well as I do that you fell down on the job."

"They already know. Ol' John boy's been watching too much Shakespeare lately and the minute the guy from Washington showed up he couldn't wait to fall on his sword."

She paused and looked at him curiously. "The guy from Washington? How did someone from Washington get here already?"

He shrugged. "Said he was coming down here to monitor our progress personally. He sees now he should have gotten here sooner."

She winced on that one. They'd had Washington desk weenies breathing down their necks the entire time this sting was being planned. Every day it seemed they were fighting off oversight by past-their-prime field agents who thought they knew better than the people actually down in the trenches. Too many colonels, definitely not enough foot soldiers.

"Who'd they send?" she groused as they neared the van. "Spencer? I love Luke like a father, but the old fart can't cut the grade anymore and you and I know it."

"It's not Spencer."

She arched a brow as she went through her mental portfolio. "Quartermaine?"

"Nope."

"Oh crap, please tell me they didn't send Lansing. I swear, the last time that guy was here, I made the mistake of wearing a skirt and he made the mistake of touching my knee. Then he had the nerve to write up a disciplinary report when I sprained his wrist."

"You're in luck, Liz, it's not Lansing."

"Then who?" she asked as they reached the blue Ford van with Betty's Catering painted in bright pink letters on the side.

"Some new guy that's made a name for himself. Actually a field agent turned supervisor. All I know is Scorpio himself is with the guy."

She paused and swallowed. "Scorpio? Scorpio's here? Oh man, I'm dead. Scorpio hates me. He's been waiting for years to see me screw up so he can mount my head on a wall."

"And you didn't disappoint me, Webber," came the cool, detached voice of Robert Scorpio as the door slid open.

She looked up and tried to fight back the urge to barf her lunch all over the scuffed brown loafers of the man who looked like he'd just been told Christmas had come early. In the shadows, a figure shifted ever-so-slightly and she figured this must the Bureau's new golden boy. She hated him on sheer principle.

"Unfortunately," he continued, "Spencer's still got some pull and I can't fire you like I was hoping. But I can tell you that you're going back to training, and hopefully you'll learn some proper techniques instead of that bush-league crap Spencer taught you. So, Elizabeth Webber, meet your new boss."

The figure melted out of the shadows and ice blue eyes glowed like two danger beacons in the night, before six feet of blond, Nordic muscle stepped into the street light. Scorpio turned and grinned malevolently. "Jason Morgan, meet your new rookie. Maybe you can find something salvageable in her."

Jason Morgan was a man trained to observe the situation. Observe a target, observe a room, observe; and know how to quickly neutralize a person, how best to escape, and what was going on in any given situation based on conversation, subtext and body language. Right now, he pegged Elizabeth Webber as a rank amateur and couldn't understand how she'd ever been hired by the WSB, let alone given such a pivotal assignment of bringing Lorenzo Alcazar down.

It had to be because Luke Spencer had pulled strings. Probably called in all the favors he'd accumulated over his twenty plus years of service, and got his son's girlfriend hired. After all, Luke Spencer was a legend. The man who stopped Mikos Cassadine from freezing the world and sent his widow straight to the underworld from whence she'd spawned, the man did, unfortunately, have some clout. More like everyone was so pie-eyed over the old dodger that they just nodded their heads like those stupid little bobble-head dolls, and were honored to be around a legend. The old fart should have been put out to pasture years ago, but nobody had the balls to fire him and he was too much of a child to quit.

If Luke Spencer had trained Elizabeth Webber, then it was no wonder she'd got caught, blown her cover, and ruined the Bureau's investigation. The guy was a screw-up and any time Jason had the misfortune to have to work with one of the agents he trained, he had twice as much work, twice as much worry, and twice as much stress. Spencer trained agents didn't follow the rules, they didn't even follow proper procedure, they always played fast and loose with the situation and he was always on the brink of disaster. Johnny O'Brien and Max Kozimor had both been trained by Spencer, Spencer had wrangled this assignment for his hand-picked team, and a little girl who should have been thanking her lucky stars she was serving coffee in the cafeteria where agents headed for a quick meal in between briefings and reports was actually in charge of the whole disaster.

Well, it would all change now.

Robert Scorpio had finally convinced the brass to let him oversee the operations in Port Charles and Jason had been brought along as Scorpio's second in command. Jason had been lucky enough to be trained by the Australian agent, a man who knew how field work should be properly done, and had groomed Jason to rise through the ranks. Jason's success rate in operations had been among the highest in the Bureau, and when he was given an assignment it was because the bosses knew he'd get the job done. It was why he was down here now. He was going to whip this department of the WSB into shape and get it back to the glory days of when Anna Devane, Duke Lavery and Robert Scorpio were doing things. Not this shoddy state of affairs it had degenerated into now.

He knew though that he was going to have his hands full. Elizabeth Webber was still going to be here, along with her team, to provide back-up. A position they were lucky to retain, and had only happened because Spencer had barged into Scorpio's office and fought for her. Jason wasn't a part of the meeting, and Robert didn't divulge the full details, but he heard enough behind the closed door and saw his mentor's black mood, and knew that Spencer had finagled a sweet deal for the inept girl. If Jason had his way, Elizabeth Webber would have been sent packing from Port Charles, and preferably from the Bureau.

Now he was stuck with her, and he didn't think she was the kind of person who would deal well with being shoved from the spotlight. She would be too much like Spencer, always hotdogging it, drawing unnecessary attention, and in general being a royal thorn in his side. He wasn't one to baby-sit spoiled agents, and nurse bruised egos. Well, she was going to have to learn the rules, and keep out of his way.

Somehow, based on the defiant way her arms were crossed over her chest and her chin was angled in self-righteous fury while Scorpio gave her a well-deserved dressing down, he figured that was going to be easier said than done. She had remained silent as they all piled into the surveillance van and O'Brien drove them not to headquarters, but to a warehouse near Pier 52. Jason figured she was afraid, rightfully so, of what Scorpio would say and that was why she was blessedly holding her tongue he'd heard from Ric Lansing was quite shrewish. But now, as her eyes gleamed and her jaw ticked with barely suppressed fury, he realized that Elizabeth Webber wasn't smart, she was a fool.

Elizabeth didn't know which was worse, an old fart who knew he had no business being in the business yet stayed anyway, or the one who had no idea he was past his prime but acted like he knew everything. At least with Luke, he knew he didn't know everything about field work anymore. He had been removed from live action in the trenches for so long that he didn't lord his service history over people acting like he was the smartest man on earth. Robert Spencer, who had been sitting behind a desk for as long as Luke had, had no idea that he wasn't as fast in the field, or up on all the latest techniques and gadgets. He thought that everything should continue to happen as he had done it, regardless of how the world or the law had changed. He was right, everyone else was wrong; end of story.

She hated dealing with him. He hated Luke Spencer, Luke had trained her, therefore, he hated Elizabeth as well. He did the same things that he railed against Luke for, giving his trainees plumb assignments, putting them into positions of power, and acting like there was nothing wrong with it. Elizabeth was certain that Robert, and the frozen block of concrete who had accompanied him, all thought that the only reason Elizabeth got this job was because Luke had pulled a few strings in the Bureau and that she wasn't up for the challenge. They looked at her, saw Luke Spencer trainee tattooed across her forehead and automatically dismissed her.

She could just imagine the absolute fun she was going to have with Jason Morgan, hand-picked Scorpio Boy Scout, thinking he had to come in here and retrain her. Scorpio had to be the most inflexible field agent she'd ever encountered. It was a wonder he got anything done at all, given his penchant for planning things out right down to the color of his underwear for the day, and having a reputation as not being flexible. How did he ever survive a glitch in his plans because of human nature? Or the weather? Or a power outage? He probably bordered on the verge of a stroke every time he went on assignment.

And since Jason Morgan had been trained by Scorpio, he would no doubt be the same way. He probably didn't know how to roll with the punches, turn a near disaster into a golden opportunity simply by being flexible enough not to get his tighty-whities in a knot. She was not looking forward to being re-trained by him. She'd just as soon be shipped off to Venezuela and told to bring down the president who was thinking he could stick it to the Western nations by curtailing oil production. She'd have a much more enjoyable time.

"Are you even listening to me, Agent Webber?" Robert Scorpio's Australian drawl was thick with loathing and she brought her mind, and the room, back into focus. "Or am I boring you?"

"No, sir," she answered, telling herself not to resort to sarcasm quite yet. "I've heard what you've said. You consider me a liability to not only the operation here in Port Charles, but also the Bureau because I know and was trained by Luke Spencer."

"Well," he said, as he leaned back in his chair and eyed her with thinly veiled disdain, "at least your powers of comprehension aren't completely shot. Do you have any idea what you've done tonight?"

"Yes, sir, I've set us back in our investigation of Lorenzo Alcazar."

"Set us back?" he declared in shock. "You didn't just set us back, Agent Webber, you've derailed the entire train."

"With all due respect, I beg to differ."

"You do?" Jason Morgan spoke for the first time since he melted out of the shadows of the van. Walking around her, eyeing her up and making her feel like she was a mutt at the Westminster Dog Show, he finished his circuit of inspection beside Scorpio and crossed his arms over his barrel chest. "Would you care to enlighten us on how this isn't a complete disaster?"

"Because Lorenzo Alcazar doesn't know that I'm WSB," she said.

"Well, I think he's going to suspect that something is up after he caught you in his office."

"He thinks I work for Jasper Jacks and Tracy Quartermaine, in their security division," she said, her voice calm and controlled, but her eyes clearly displaying the message that he was a chump and his boss too. "It's no secret that Jax and Tracy consider Alcazar to be a rival of their with his plans of building a luxury hotel. Jax bankrolled the Quartermaine family in rebuilding the Port Charles Hotel after an electrical fire burned it down. He's an equal partner in the venture, and if Alcazar builds a hotel, he would undercut the profits. Alcazar, because of his organized crime money could charge less; therefore people would flock to his hotel. If we're lucky, he'll just think that my visit there tonight was because I was trying to get the dirt on him for Jax or Tracy."

"If you're lucky?" Morgan asked, the last word coming out a disgusting sneer. "Funny you should mention him."

She narrowed her eyes, but refused to be cowed by this cretin. "What does Lucky have to do with this? Other than the fact that we can use his infiltration of Alcazar's organization to our advantage. Lorenzo listens to him, and Lucky will steer him towards the hotel connections. There's no reason to freak out like virgins on prom night and immediately suspect that my cover is blown."

"And what about Jasper and Tracy?" he asked. "Won't they be suspicious if Lorenzo mentions your little late-night snooping to them?"

"Probably," she admitted. "But like any good poker player, Jax will never give away the fact that I was doing something without his orders. And when he does come to question me, I'll snow him and say I was giving him deniability. For being such a shrewd businessman, he is absolutely gullible when it comes to women. He operates under the presumption that women are nothing more than eye candy and arm ornaments, which was why he hired me to be on his security detail. He extends his Neanderthal thinking to all men; no one would suspect that I'm watching them, or that I was packing a pistol. It works to his advantage, and it works to mine."

He said nothing, just clenched his jaw and looked away. She knew he couldn't find anything to pick apart in her argument, and rather than admit that he clammed up. Scorpio slowly stood, unfolding himself from his chair and took a calculated step towards her. He said nothing for a full minute, just rubbed his hand over his jaw and eyed her with his pale eyes.

"Alright," he finally said.

She blinked, waited for him to continue, but he didn't go on. She wasn't even going to dare risking his wrath, or inviting him to call her a fool, so she remained silent. As the silence stretched, Morgan finally stepped forward and asked, "Alright? What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means," he said, casting a quick glance at his right-hand man, "that Webber stays on the assignment. For now," he warned when Morgan's eyes narrowed in displeasure. Turning to Elizabeth he raised a cautionary finger, "I won't pull you off this case, yet. But that's only contingent on the fact that your little convoluted yarn plays out. If Alcazar thinks you were there as a corporate spy and Mr. Jacks doesn't fire you, then you might still be of some use to us out in the field."

He turned to walk away, then turned back and glared at her with a malevolent gleam in his eye. "But Morgan is in charge of this operation. You report to him, you take your orders from him; you do exactly as he says, or you'll find yourself back in whatever two-bit town Spencer found yourself in and out of my Bureau forever. Do I make myself clear, Agent Webber?"

Elizabeth bit down on her fury and told herself that eventually Scorpio would retire and she'd be free of his oppressive control. Until then, it was best to play the game within the parameters, making both him and Morgan think that she would be cooperative. They couldn't stay in the WSB forever, and it was better to be in the Bureau than out of it. And if that meant for the time being she had to put up with Morgan as her boss, she'd do it. Until Luke found a way to get him off her back and out of her town. Because her patience would only stretch so far.

For nearly a week, an uneasy, heavy air settled over the Port Charles section of the WSB. Jason and his men began work immediately to put discipline and order into the staff, and make sense of the muddled state of affairs regarding the investigation into Lorenzo Alcazar and Sonny Corinthos. He implemented a strict regimen of training and briefings and did not tolerate any deviance from his schedule. Which meant of course that Kozimor and O'Brien took great delight in pushing the edge of the envelope. They showed up late to the briefings, disregarded his advice during training, and flat out refused to listen to him when he said they needed to recertify in weapons. Their defiance fueled the other workers in the section and Jason was sorely tempted to fire the lot of them and start over from scratch.

On the third day, everything changed. Elizabeth Webber, who had been quiet and sullen during every encounter, speaking only when spoken to during briefings and then replying with only the barest amount of words, walked into self-defense training five minutes early. With Max and Johnny right behind her. They took their places on the mats in the room and for the next hour threw themselves into the workout. Their dedication bordered on obsessiveness, and when they began light sparring amongst the class, the two agents he'd dismissed as oafish, bungling idiots who would rely more on sheer mass and not actual finesse actually bested his best two agents. Milo and Enzo took the defeat well, walking with dignity towards the showers, until they were out of sight of the others and then let themselves limp gingerly.

Webber had handled herself surprisingly well during the training. He knew from reading her service jacket that she was well trained in hand-to-hand combat, having studied under some of the same masters Jason had. He hadn't dismissed her capabilities because she was a girl; in fact he'd expected more of her than he had from her two other partners. Women were generally lighter and more agile on their feet, and with the proper training could deliver just as lethal blows as a man could. He knew she possessed skill, one did not obtain a double black-belt simply by flirting with the instructor, and so when she took down Marco in record time he wasn't really impressed. Hand combat had never been Marco's strong suit.

During the daily briefing, she spoke instead of barely concealing the rolling of her eyes. She listened to his reports, offered a few insights based on her time in the field, and didn't dismiss his suggestions out of hand. Her lack of open hostility had O'Brien and Kozimor quietly respectful as well everyone emerged from the briefing better informed. Robert had shown up during the last fifteen minutes and he congratulated Jason on his success in getting Spencer's misfits to finally listen to reason. Webber finally had come to see the lay of the land and knew that fighting Jason's placement as her boss would be futile. Scorpio was pleased with the development, and so was Jason. Maybe now they would be able to work on salvaging the bungled operation and Jason could get out of this backwater town and off to more important assignments.

The uneasy arrangement lasted for several days until they received word that Alcazar would be attending the grand re-opening of the Port Charles Hotel. As part of the security detail to Jasper Jacks and Tracy Quartermaine, Webber would be expected to attend. She would also be on the floor, she said, not holed up in a dark room staring at grainy, black and white monitors. Because of the large nature of the affair, Jacks wanted to bring in more men, to send a message to both Alcazar and Sonny Corinthos that the hotel was safe, secure and the men would be wise to stop trying to extract protection money from the accounts. This was, as the petite agent unnecessarily pointed out, the perfect opportunity for them to get more men inside for at least the night. They could also use the opportunity to search Alcazar's premises since she hadn't been able to complete her task the last time.

While Jason still chafed at having to use this wet behind the ears girl as his liaison into the inner sanctum of the hotel, he knew that sometimes a person just had to grin and bear it. She would be able to slip in the doctored resumes for the agents Jason wanted to place inside, and she would be able to guide Tracy and Jasper into going along with her suggestions. Instead of fighting with her about it, he decided to follow the advice of his mother and make lemonade from the lemons he was handed.

After that daily briefing, Jason was in a decided foul mood. He could see her smug little grin as they filed out of the briefing room, her eyes conveying the clear message that she had been useful and she knew it. He knew the impish glint in her eye, she would be impossible to be around. She might even entertain the notion that she was on equal ground with him, or at somehow passed him. So, it appeared that her acquiescence had all been an act. She thought she could show him who was in still in charge by getting Kozimor, O'Brien and the others to act like they were listening to him, to act like they were actually going to follow his commands. The little saboteur had secretly been plotting behind the scenes. Oh...Spencer had indeed taught her his insidious tricks of the trade.

Jason wasn't going to let her get away with it. Weapons training was scheduled for the next day and he knew from her jacket that she wasn't nearly as proficient as he was. She had never even qualified for the shooting competitions the Bureau held, while Jason had won The Golden Gun three years in a row. He would wipe that smug little grin right off her face and let her know that he was on to her game. He was not going to have her thinking she could undermine his authority. Better people than her had tried and they had all ended up on their ears, tossed out of the WSB.

The night of the Port Charles Hotel Grand Re-Opening, Jason's irritation and dark mood had increased. To the point that not only were the Spencer agents suffering his wrath, but his own agents were feeling the bite. Only the brave, or the foolhardy, would approach him as they all prepared for this evening. Robert hadn't said anything, thankfully, just had continued to meet with Jason and listen to the younger man's plans approving them or offering a few helpful suggestions to make things go smoother.

Everyone had headed off to their assigned places and duties hours ago. Kozimor and O'Brien had been split up, against their protests, and that's exactly why Jason had done it. He wasn't going to leave them together so they could grouse and complain to each other, or so that they could screw this up again. They were providing back-up to his men who were searching through Corinthos and Alcazar's businesses and leaving behind surveillance equipment that even the most sophisticated equipment couldn't detect. He didn't really care if they disliked sitting in a van monitoring the situation and taking orders from his men, he was in charge and they were going to do what he said.

It was bad enough that he had to deal with Webber for this affair. She had gotten the men he'd selected for the hotel inside, on the security detail Jacks and Quartermaine wanted beefed up for the night. She calmly accepted the doctored resumes he handed her, listened to his instructions and he'd eyed her warily, knowing it couldn't be that easy. It wasn't. When she returned that evening after successfully completing her mission, she told him his men were on the inside. There was just one minor caveat. At the hotel, they worked for her and she needed his guarantee that his men were professional enough to listen to her commands.

She had enjoyed every minute of the whole exchange. Her eyes glinting just so, the corner of her mouth quirked up, and her Go, Go, Gidget ponytail perched high atop her head. She was letting him know she wasn't going to back down, that she was going to challenge him every step of the way, all in a manner that he couldn't dispute. After all, she was the head of the security detail at the hotel, and technically the men were supposed to be working for her as part of their covers. She knew it, knew he knew and that there wasn't a thing he could do about it. Much like the day that she'd smirked at him when she'd nearly tied him during the weapons training.

"It's not that I didn't qualify for the Golden Gun competition, Morgan," she'd told him, "it's that I simply didn't choose to try out. Unlike you testosterone over-ridden apes, I don't feel the need to show off and earn a barely disguised phallic symbol."

Jason forced the memory back, and also forced himself to release the steering wheel his hands were gripping so hard his knuckles had become white with anger. He was supposed to be here to enjoy himself. Sip champagne that would be flowing like water, circulate with the big wigs in town and pass himself off as a rich businessman, he'd put the kibosh on Robert's suggestion he be a worthless playboy like Jasper Jacks who'd just jetted in from Europe, who was looking to check out the business sector in town. Slipping out of his Mercedes, he handed the keys off to the valet attendant and gave a slight tug to straighten the coat of his tuxedo. Then he made his way to the front door while pulling his invitation out of his pocket.

"Welcome sir," Enzo said with perfect remote alertness. There was no recognition in the agent's eyes, only a security guard apprising the latest arrival and assessing potential danger. "Please step to the right."

Jason did so, where he was subjected to a sweep with a hand-held metal detector. Apparently Webber hadn't been joking when she said that her bosses weren't going to allow weapons of any sort inside the building. Good thing he knew exactly where his men had stashed one for him. Milo finished the sweep, then casually leaned in and said, "Webber's on the floor...you might want to prepare yourself."

"Thank you, sir, you can go in," he said in a stronger voice as he stepped back and waved Jason in with a casual flick of his wrist.

Only years of training had kept Jason from scowling at Milo's cryptic comment. Prepare himself for Webber? What did that mean? What had she done already?

Anger beginning to rise in a slow boil, Jason stepped into the grand ballroom of the new rebuilt hotel. As he took a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and then dumped half of into a potted fern as he passed so that he looked like he was drinking but wouldn't be harassed by an overeager catering staff, he let his eyes scan the room. He saw two of his other agents on the perimeter of the room, their eyes passing right over him even though he saw their signals of acknowledgement. He saw Corinthos on one side of the room and Alcazar on the other, two bulls eyeing each other across the arena, yet staying away from each other so far. All the major players were in town and lined up in their positions, from the Quartermaine family and Mr. Jacks, to the mayor and the corrupt D.A. The only person Jason didn't see was Webber. The slow boil threatened to go critical because she wasn't at her post, where she should have been.

A slight tug on the back of his coat had him tensing, ready to strike at whoever had just come close to discovering the gun he'd retrieved and tucked into the holster at the small of his back. But when the smell of perfume wafted over him and he turned his head slightly, the tension left his arms, and traveled directly south of his belt. In a blood-red, strapless, skin-tight bodiced dress, Elizabeth Webber appeared at his elbow.

"Pardon my forwardness, sir," she flashed him a smile, "You had a loose thread on the back of your jacket. I'd speak to your tailor about that."

Then she turned slightly and her voice dropped. "I'd also speak to your personal chef there, Morgan. Your jacket seems a little tight and it was skewed in the back, very nearly showing off the weapon you're not supposed to be carrying in here after my thorough security detailed frisked you."

She tisked lightly under her breath. "Sloppy, sloppy, Morgan."

Then she walked away, and he saw flashes of leg from the slit in her skirt. Sure it was looser than her bodice, a swim cap would be looser than the bodice of her dress, and the fabric draped in light folds. But all Jason could think was where in the world was the gun he'd ordered her to carry?

Jason Morgan was an insufferable, sexist pig.

As Elizabeth walked down the hallways of the office, back from a tiring day of trying to serve two three bosses - Jax, Tracy and the WSB, and heard giggling, her already short nerves decreased rapidly. She wondered which dimwit was tittering like an idiot, and then stopped and told herself it didn't matter and that she really didn't care. After all, as he had so often pointed out to her, he was in charge here. So if he wanted to bring in barely disguised bimbos, pathetic secretaries with guns, it was no skin off her nose. After all, she already had pegged him for an idiot since he was trained by Scorpio, adding hypocrite Neanderthal to the list really shouldn't be that big of a surprise.

But it did get her goat.

She had overheard him talking with his handpicked agents, the men he'd first brought with him, that he suspected the only reason she'd ever been hired by the Bureau was because Luke hired his son's girlfriend. She hadn't bothered to set the cretin straight; let him think what he wanted. She didn't like Lucky Spencer, at least not like that. The barely disguised man-child was vain, arrogant, and way too full of himself for her tastes. Much like his old man. At least Luke had some substance to back up the flash. Lucky was all pretty-boy brawn, with not a lot of brain to back it up. Sure, he'd managed to get himself hired into Alcazar's shadier business, and was useful in that regard, but Elizabeth couldn't stand his constant flirting with every girl that crossed his path. The first time he'd tried to lay the moves down on her, she'd dislocated his thumb and had put him out of commission with his dates for several weeks with a well-placed knee between the legs. He was too scared of her to then follow through with his threat to tell everyone she was gay in retaliation for turning him down.

If Jason Morgan wanted to think that it was out of family nepotism that Luke Spencer had hired her, let the man live with his delusions. She had better things to do with her time than to correct his misperceptions. Besides, Elizabeth knew better than to waste her breath because he'd never believe her. His mind was made up, and he'd never deviate from it. Instead, she spent her hours on, and off, the job, trying to figure out how to work any possible angle to bring Lorenzo Alcazar, and by extension, Sonny Corinthos down. She poured over field notes, surveillance tapes, profiles and psych evaluations of the subjects; she wanted to know these men like she knew the take-out menu from Mr. Wong's on the corner. She was going to find the magic bullet that would close the Bureau's case against these men.

If she happened to show Jason Morgan up in the process, well that was just an added bonus. She'd prove to him, and his uptight, prejudiced boss, Scorpio, that she was hired by Luke because she had a near photographic memory, that she'd been the top of her class in criminal justice and criminal psychology in college, and she deserved to work at the WSB.

Grudgingly, despite everything inside her not wanting to acknowledge that Morgan had any redeeming values, she'd forced herself to admit that he was a good field agent. He was smart, tested high on all the aptitude tests, was one of the youngest instructors the Bureau ever had, and he got results. She hated the day those defenses had flown out involuntarily from her mouth to Johnny and Max, and then she'd played it down saying that while the guy was stupid and had come in like Atilla the Hun into their town, he had supposedly broken nearly impossible cases elsewhere. So the guy probably wasn't a complete loser.

Then came the axe in her back.

Jason brought in three more field agents, and Elizabeth's low opinion of the man plummeted to subterranean levels. Skye Chandler, Brenda Barrett and Sam McCall were not only three of the most incompetent people she'd ever had the misfortune to meet, these bimbos were also Jason Morgan's ex-girlfriends. So, apparently it was wrong for Elizabeth to get a job because she was supposedly screwing the boss's kid, but it was perfectly fine for his ex-bed buddies to be promoted to plumb assignments. Of course, part of the reason none of the men seemed to object, even her own team members, was because Elizabeth could never on her best day, and with all the help of Victoria Secret's best padded bra, ever look like these three bimbos.

They all had more silicone than California, and she was pretty certain they never would wear pants for nearly two weeks straight just because they were too lazy to shave their legs. They were probably waxed, buffed and polished to perfection. It was no wonder all the men drooled over them like the newest muscle cars. And it was, she found out, why Jason had brought them in. Jason Morgan was setting a honey trap.

These three glamorous agents had been brought in with the specific purpose of becoming the latest arm candy of Sonny Corinthos and Lorenzo Alcazar. With three women, the odds were good that two of them would wind up dating their targets. Especially considering that the men seemed to compete over everything, and everyone. They'd even decided to use Jasper Jacks in their equation. Sonny Corinthos hated Jax, and if one of the women showed an interest in the Australian tycoon, then Sonny would probably swoop in to attempt to win her away. The whole thing made Elizabeth nauseous.

Especially since it appeared to be working.

With their high profile and exciting covers, Skye, Sam and Brenda had all arrived in Port Charles' mainstream populace over the course of a couple of weeks. They all checked in to Jax's new hotel, hung out in the swanky new bar and restaurant, and oh-so-conveniently came to the notice of Alcazar and Corinthos. They giggled, they flirted, they played hard to get just enough to entice the men, and then they began going out on their dates. Since many of the initial encounters were at the hotel's bar, Elizabeth was ordered by Morgan to keep an eye on them and bring home copies of the surveillance tapes for further inspection.

She was forced to be a barely disguised babysitter to these idiot women, and Morgan loved every minute of the discomfort he seemed to sense in her no matter how hard she tried to hide it. He always seemed to come out for friendly chats with them when he knew Elizabeth would be arriving, thought nothing of assigning her to a night of surveillance detail in a van, usually with Milo who seemed to have some gastrointestinal ailment ever since he'd returned from Mexico, after she'd already put in a full day of work at the Port Charles Hotel. She was pulling double shifts and when she unfortunately fell asleep during a morning briefing, after only getting three hours of sleep the night before after her sixth double shift, he took great relish in castigating her before the entire section. She refused to give him the satisfaction of trying to defend herself and merely stood there as he yelled himself down to a splutter, regarding her oddly when she just let him rant.

She suspected he was trying to force her into quitting, and she would crawl across broken glass before she gave him that satisfaction. She would be professional, everything that was proper and deferential in her dealings with her superior and she would never give him any room to complain or write her up. Elizabeth was determined to outlast this idiot, no matter how tempted she was shove the three bimbettes into the harbor or shoot Morgan with her service weapon. She would put up with him riding her case harder than anyone else in the Bureau, and she would do her job with a saccharine smile pasted on her lips.

So what if she had to put up with his sexist attitude? He would ask the women to come in for a meeting, and then include her in a throwaway after thought. "Oh, yeah, Webber, I suppose you should be in this meeting as well." She had to put up with the men commenting on who would be lucky enough to follow which agent, and then who would have the misfortune of being stuck with Webber on their detail. It was almost comical in a Miss Congeniality kinda way. Except she was pretty sure Sandra Bullock didn't even have it this rough. And at least she had the advantage of having Benjamin Bratt to look at; Elizabeth was stuck with Larry, Moe and Ugly. She refused to show everyone, including O'Brien and Kozimor that this was bothering her.

She would be professional, even when it seemed the rest of the section had gone to the dogs. Or maybe it was the clowns.

Determined not to react to anything that might happen, be said, or done when she arrived in the main room, Elizabeth held her head high as she walked in. As she'd suspected from what she overheard in the hall, Jason and Brenda Barrett were sitting at a desk, heads bent close together while talking. Brenda was obviously dressed for the evening, although Elizabeth wasn't sure if that was supposed to be an evening spent going out with Jasper Jacks hoping to fuel Sonny's jealousy and cause the older man to make a more definitive move, or if that evening would be spent down on Courtland Street. Or maybe Brenda was thinking of making a career move to being one of Mitchell Coleman's escorts.

"Webber, you're late," Morgan said, not bothering with a greeting and getting right down to the chewing out.

"Sorry, boss," she said, an unrepentant smirk covering her face. "Some of us have jobs to do."

Her pointed glare at Brenda caused the other woman to sit up and adjust the top of her blouse up a bit. Jason saw the exchange and his scowl towards Elizabeth darkened. Before he could start in on her, she decided to defuse the situation and jump into business. "Mr. Jacks should be calling in just a few moments to cancel his evening out with Agent Barrett here and I'm sure that when she arrives back at her hotel suite it will be filled to the brim with flowers of contrition."

Brenda frowned at her, looking like a little kid who was told their favorite toy was being taken away. Jason looked at her questioningly and the look on his face was clear, Explain, now.

"He has business holdings in Paris and he got a call from his lawyer. Something's come up and he needs to fly over there for a few days. He's leaving tonight. However, there is a way this can be worked to our advantage. As I was leaving tonight, Corinthos' accountant, Benny, called in to reserve one of our private tables for his boss. If Brenda hauls her cute, perky, little butt over to the bar, her disappointment when she checks her cell phone message and realizes that Jax had to cancel on her will be clear to Corinthos. And Mr. Corinthos never met a damsel in distress he could resist."

Looking at the sex-kitten looking agent she smiled, "Play your cards right tonight, and Corinthos might even ask you to go home with him. Then that would put us in a perfect position."

"She's right," Brenda said, ignoring the fact that Jason hadn't said anything. She stood quickly, grabbed her purse and was ready to leave after a quick peck on Morgan's cheek.

"Where are you going?" he growled at her, his eyes never leaving Elizabeth.

She looked at him, then over at Elizabeth. "You heard her. It's the perfect opportunity to make a move. He's been resistant so far and Sam and I haven't been able to get close. Skye's already gotten inside Lorenzo's camp, but Corinthos has been a tough nut. This is our chance."

"Okay," he agreed, looking none too pleased at having one of his agents concur so readily with Elizabeth. Not wanting to appear gloating, Elizabeth looked down, allowing the other man to save a little face. Not that she cared.

When Barrett was gone and it was just the two of them, Elizabeth waited a few moments, then nodded and turned to head for the door. "Where are you going?" Morgan demanded.

"Home," she said guilelessly.

"I don't think so, Webber," he shook his head. "I need you on surveillance detail with Milo tonight."

She took a deep breath so she wouldn't explode and tried to adopt her best Aww shucks demeanor. "I'm afraid I can't. I got a promotion at work today."

"A promotion?" he questioned dubiously.

"Jax wants me on his personal security detail, not just the hotel's. He said he may need me to fly to Paris, and he wants me at home close to my phone in case he calls."

"So he has to call your cell phone," Morgan shrugged as if that ended the discussion and she would be tagging along with Milo and his condition.

"He specifically said my home phone," she said, just a hint of challenge entering her eye. "Do you want me to disappoint my boss? I'd hate for the Bureau to lose our connection to Jax simply because you're too soft to take a shift with Milo on surveillance."

His eyes narrowed lethally at her and she hoped that Jax did call and tell her to come to Paris for a few days. Because she knew if he didn't, Jason was going to be even worse of a bear to deal with.

If Lucky Spencer was anything like his old man, then Jason knew he couldn't trust the young punk as far as he could kick him. Elizabeth Webber may have decided it was a good idea to stick her boyfriend inside Lorenzo Alcazar's organization, but Jason knew it was a recipe for disaster. The only question was, how soon would this all blow up in their face? Spencer, the Elder, had long been suspected by Robert as being a double agent. Sure the old geezer may have stopped Mikos and Helena Cassadine, but Jason never trusted it. Maybe the crazy Grecians by way of Russia weren't dead, or maybe Luke had proved himself completely untrustworthy and double-crossed them as he killed them. Whatever the real circumstances, Jason didn't like Lucky being inside Alcazar's shady business. It was too tempting for the boy to turn himself.

Luke's alleged past made everyone he ever trained in the Bureau suspect, and that was the real reason Scorpio had come to Port Charles and brought Jason with him. Elizabeth Webber was, surprisingly, a smart agent. Her instincts were good, she was quick on her feet, she could read people and peg what they were going to do, and the plan she'd laid out to bring down Alcazar actually wasn't that bad. But he had to make her think that way because he needed her angry, he needed her upset and distracted so she would hopefully screw up and contact Spencer if she was in league with him all the way. It was why Jason had split up her team, and why he had someone watching every member of the original section 24 hours a day.

He knew that Webber thought he was a jerk, sending her out on surveillance detail after she'd already worked a full day at the hotel, but the mission was two-fold. First, it increased her anger towards him, and second, she was under surveillance. Her apartment was set up in an area that was good for her, but bad for them trying to watch her. Not a lot of traffic on the street, not a lot of bushes or trees for them to hide behind, she'd picked a place where she could watch for any attacks coming her way, which also made it real easy to spot a tail. Putting her on surveillance duty kept her watched, and by the time she got home and fell into bed exhausted, they could put an agent outside her place for a couple of hours without drawing a lot of unwanted attention.

Lifting the high powered binoculars, Jason looked at Webber's house and was a bit dismayed to see a light on in one of the rooms. The place had been dark for several hours and he figured that she had come home and gone straight to sleep. He knew that she was tired, falling asleep the other day had been proof of that, and even more days had passed since then. Though she was a stubborn goat and refused to complain or even show too much that she was fatigued, he knew she was. Which was why her detail with Milo wasn't that important, because he knew her reflexes and acuity would be dulled and dimmed with exhaustion. It wasn't that she was watching anyone; it was that Milo was watching her to make sure she wasn't contacted by anyone, or didn't attempt to slip off and pull a Spencer Double Cross. For a light to be on now meant she was awake. And if she was awake, his life was about to get more complicated.

If Jasper had called to say that she was needed in Paris, Jason was going to have to scramble. He'd have to get an agent on the plane with her, and then have her tailed by agents from the Paris section and hope that she didn't recognize any of them. He would have to trust other agents and hope that none of them had been trained, or turned, by Spencer. He didn't want Webber to leave Port Charles because here he controlled the situation and he knew that the men and women he had brought in could be trusted. It was why he'd brought them in the first place.

Static crackled in his ear a moment before Enzo's disembodied voice carried through.

"Boss, we got a problem."

Cursing in three different languages in his head because a problem was definitely something he didn't need right now, he took a breath and calmly responded. "What?"

"Spencer gave us the slip."

"What?" he exploded at the agent in charge of following Lucky Spencer. "What do you mean he gave you the slip? How long ago?"

"About ten minutes ago. We lost him on Jefferson. He must have ducked into a back alley."

Jefferson. Wasn't that far from his present location. About ten minutes. Plenty of time for him to get to Elizabeth's house and slip inside. Because Jason couldn't get too close without giving himself away, there was plenty of space for someone to sneak by him, come from a different angle, and waltz right into Elizabeth Webber's house. And plan a coup or a betrayal.

Lifting the binoculars again, he peered in hard concentration at the house and looked for any signs of what he hoped wasn't going on. But he saw a small shadow pace quickly by a window and then a larger shadow begin to enter the frame of the window, pause, back up and then the lights were quickly doused. This time Jason's dark epithets filled the still air and caused Enzo to question why his boss was suddenly swearing in Russian.

"I think I know where Spencer is," he said. "I'll call you if I need back-up."

Then he yanked out his ear piece and slipped out of his car, making sure his guns were in place and some extra ammunition was tucked inside his pocket. Lucky Spencer had come to visit Elizabeth Webber, and somehow Jason didn't think this was a lover's tryst. Five minutes later, after a circuitous route to Webber's back door so that he wasn't detected, he slipped the copy of her key into the lock and slowly turned it. He just hoped her hinges were well oiled so he could sneak in quietly and get plenty of evidence against the two of them before he busted their operation.

When he stepped inside, he realized that all his efforts for stealth hadn't been needed. He doubted a five-year-old with a kazoo would have been heard over the yelling he heard coming from the front room. Instantly alert at the angry voices, he slipped his 9 mm out of his holster and crept towards the fighting agents.

"Lucky, what did you do?"

Webber was probably angry that Spencer had come here, or altered her precious timetable, but he reassessed that after processing her confused and shocked tone. She was angry, but there was something more. Situating himself at the half-wall between the kitchen and the living room, he took a quick glance at the angry duo and took stock of the scene. Webber had obviously been in bed given the amethyst silk boxers and white tank top, sans bra, she was wearing, her hair escaping a braid, and Spencer was in his Alcazar Uniform of black pants, black shirt, black trench coat pacing angrily in front of her.

"It's really not that big of a deal, Elizabeth."

"Not that big of a deal?" she yelled at him. "I would think that going completely on Lorenzo Alcazar's payroll and deciding to betray the Bureau is a pretty big deal, Lucky."

Jason's eyes widened slightly. He'd pegged Spencer right on the money, but Webber didn't seem to be part of the plan.

"Don't be so naïve, Liz," Spencer shook his head. "I'm just doing what I learned from my father. Look out for number one, get the highest score. The Bureau puts me in a position to contact people who can pay me way better than I'll ever get from some government organization."

"What do you mean you learned this from your father?"

"Just what I said," the traitor huffed impatiently. "Did you honestly think that my old man was a Yes Man? He let people think that he followed their orders, but he always had his eye on the bigger picture. His bottom line."

"You mean he was a mercenary," Elizabeth spit out. "He still is. And you're no better. Is that why Luke hired me? He thought that I would condone this? That I would help him?"

"You're a smart girl, Liz. He hand-picked you from college, brought you up through the ranks, gave you as much help as he could to get you where he wanted you and also that you'd feel indebted to help him."

"I won't help him betray the Bureau, and I won't help him pad his pockets while criminals go free."

Spencer laughed a dry, mocking chuckle. "Life isn't black and white, little girl. Do you really think you have a future in the WSB anymore? Once people find out about this, they'll blacklist you. You were brought in by my dad, people think that we're dating, when I help Lorenzo take down Sonny Corinthos and rule this town, all the while eliminating a few agents, beginning with Morgan, do you honestly think that anyone won't believe you were a part of this all along?"

He shook his head, and his gun glinted in the light coming through the curtains as he ticked it mockingly at her. "Don't be stupid, Elizabeth. I'm giving you an opportunity to join us. Lorenzo will think that I'm going to be his right hand man, but I've got bigger dreams than that. With Skye's help we'll take him out after we've got everything into place, and then I'm going to run Port Charles."

"Skye?" Elizabeth asked in shock, echoing Jason's sentiments. One of his agents had joined up with Spencer.

"Skye's a smart lady. She knows where the real power will lie, with me and my father. She's just warming Lorenzo's bed in order to get him to trust her." Lucky paused and Jason could practically envision the punk licking his lip lasciviously. "She's also a very talented, flexible woman. Certainly no frigid stick in the mud like you. She gladly accepted my advances, and joined in on my dad's plan. This is your opportunity now, Liz."

Jason stood slowly from his crouched position, making sure to keep out of sight. He suspected that Elizabeth would say no, and when she did things were going to get ugly. He needed to apprehend Spencer and then figure out what they were going to do to clean out the rats that had infiltrated the nest.

"I'm not betraying the Bureau," Elizabeth said firmly. "And if you think I'm going to stand by and let you do this, then you've got another thing coming."

"No," Lucky shook his head. "I didn't expect that you'd turn a blind eye if I couldn't convince you to join us." The click of a hammer being pulled back echoed in the room. "That's why I have to kill you."

Jason pivoted, turning to face the room's occupants as his own gun raised while he called out, "Spencer, drop the gun."

Lucky spun around, shots ringing out even as he was still turning. They exploded in the plaster in an arc before meeting his intended target of Jason. As soon as Lucky began firing, Jason fired as well. He couldn't tell if his rounds hit Spencer, but he knew the second the heavy slug of the .45 hit him, knocking him back as his body spun like a rag doll. The room disappeared from his view as he dropped behind the partial wall and came to rest on Webber's linoleum floor by her table. There was one more pop from the living room and then all was quiet.

Until small feet scampered around the corner and Elizabeth Webber dropped down by his side. "Morgan! Morgan, can you hear me?"

"Where's Spencer?" he rasped out.

The gun she'd held tightly in her hand clattered to the floor and she pressed her palm on top of his over the blood spilling out. "He's dead," she said with cold finality. "Don't worry about him. What we need to worry about is you."

Jason Morgan was bleeding all over her kitchen floor.

Of all the scenarios she'd envisioned when she collapsed exhausted into bed a few hours before, she never once came up with this one. She toyed with the idea that Jax wouldn't call and then she'd have to go back to the Bureau tomorrow and deal with Morgan and his insufferable attitude. She'd hoped that Jax did call and she ended up on a plane winging its way to Paris where she'd get to spend a few days. Guarding Jax would be infinitely preferable to having Morgan riding her case so hard. She was about ready to strap a saddle to her back since he was constantly on it anyways. But waking up to Lucky Spencer trying to convince her to join ranks with him and Luke while betraying the WSB had never crossed her mind. Having him threaten to kill her and Jason Morgan saving her life...she felt like she'd slipped into a bad nightmare and couldn't wake up from it.

Yet there was no mistaking the thick, sticky warmth of Jason's blood as it flowed out of his side and over her fingers, pooling under her bare knees. He'd just saved her life. Crap. Now she was going to be indebted to him, which was another reason why she wasn't going to let him die on her floor. If she saved his life they could just call it even.

"Morgan," she said sharply. "Morgan, can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear, Webber," he said, gritting through the pain.

"You've got to get up," she told him. "Can you do that? If I help you, can you stand?"

"No...no hospitals," he commanded her.

"Well, that's obvious," she rolled her eyes at him. "I wasn't planning on taking you to a hospital."

"Not to the Bureau either," he shook his head, swearing darkly as she helped him sit up and lean against her wall, ruining the paintjob.

"Honestly," she huffed. "Do you think I'm stupid? I've got a hide that nobody knows about. I was going to take you there. I know that right now we can't trust anybody at the Bureau."

His head lolled to the side slightly and then he opened his eyes, struggling to focus on her. "Get dressed."

She frowned at him, wondering if he'd lost more blood than she suspected. "What?"

"You can't go out like..." his hand lifted slightly off the linoleum. "Like that."

She glanced down at her bedclothes and decided that running out of the house in a tank top and boxers with a bleeding man might just attract a little attention and nodded. "Right. But first, I'm going to get a towel to try and stop the bleeding. We need to get your bleeding under control before I can take care of you."

He nodded once in agreement and she scrambled across the kitchen for the drawer of tea towels. These would be a start until she could grab the larger ones from the bathroom. Crouching back down beside him she pressed one to his stomach and commanded he hold it while leaning him forward and checking for an exit wound. She wanted him to have an exit wound. It would mean the bullet wasn't still inside him; she did not want to have to go digging around for it on top of having to stitch him up. When she found it, she breathed a sigh of relief and pressed more towels against it and told Jason to scoot back against the wall for pressure. Once she was relatively assured that he was taken care of, she raced for her bedroom, stripping off her clothes as soon as she was out of Morgan's sight.

She dressed in warm, dark clothes, and then tossed more into a duffle bag. She emptied drawers, turning them over to get the cash and documents taped on the backs and bottoms, and she stuffed it all into the black, nylon bag. Then she reached into the back of the closet and grabbed the emergency bags of Max and Johnny. They each had bags at the others' places in case of an attack, only one person being at home before they all had to split, whatever emergency came up. She figured that she'd be able to find something for Jason to change into in one of the bags. Besides, it's not like Johnny or Max would ever be able to recover their belongings anyway. Racing into the kitchen to deposit the bags and check on Jason, she then doubled back to the bathroom where she grabbed the duffle bag under the sink full of first aid supplies and stuffed a couple of towels inside for the trip.

"What are you doing?" Morgan got out as she dashed through the kitchen.

"I'm packing us up to leave," she threw over her shoulder before racing outside to toss the bags into the back of her car. When she returned, she changed the towels against his side, pleased to see the bleeding appeared to be slowing. "Give me two more minutes and then we'll be gone."

Elizabeth had just stood to grab the supplies from under the kitchen sink when the phone rang. She froze and looked at the shrill trilling appliance, wondering who was calling. Was it Luke trying to figure out if his boy had succeeded in his job? Had a neighbor heard the shots and called the police and was calling to check up on her? Was it another one of the agents, and had this person been turned as well. After three rings she heard her voice drift in from the answering machine in the living room instructing whoever was bothering her to leave a message.

"Elizabeth? Elizabeth, are you there?"

Jax. Crap. She hadn't even considered it was her boss from the hotel. This was the last thing she needed now.

"Elizabeth? I hope you're there and are just asleep. I'm going to call back so the phone can wake you."

Jax hung up and she knew that he'd be calling back momentarily. She turned back to the kitchen counter and began mixing.

"You need to answer his phone call," Morgan instructed from behind her.

She ignored him. And she ignored the phone when it began to ring again. When she had one bottle finished, she began to work on the next one.

"Webber."

Jason's voice was sharp behind her but she resolutely ignored him until she heard sounds of him shifting on the floor and cursing under his breath. Turning around she was dismayed to see him trying to stand. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to get your attention," he snapped at her. "Why didn't you answer the phone?"

"Because I'm not going to talk to Jax right now. We have to get out of here."

"You need to talk to him."

"No, I don't," she shook her head. "He's going to want me to fly to Paris and there is no way that I'm leaving Port Charles right now, or you. We don't know what agents Lucky and Luke turned, someone else could be coming to shoot us, the cops are probably on their way already and every moment that I spend here arguing with you is costing us. We have to go."

"But Jax..."

"Jax is the least of our worries. Besides, with any luck, he'll think that I'm dead," she informed him as she hefted the Molotov Cocktails in her hand. "The fastest way I know of to destroy the evidence of the shooting, your blood and Lucky's dead body is to set fire to the place. Before the cops arrive. So, get on your feet, Morgan and get out to the car while I give this place a little boost so it can blow."

In a few short minutes, the orange glow of her burning home was just a speck in the back window as Elizabeth drove away. She hung a right on Parker Street just as the fire department and police cars came barreling down the road towards the blaze. She fought against every human instinct to speed away, avert her face or do anything else that would draw unwanted attention to her car, and instead relied on her years of training to drive without looking back. She kept to the speed limit, obeyed all traffic laws, and prayed that her tail lights didn't suddenly go out because the last thing she wanted was for a cop to pull her over and discover Jason bleeding all over the interior of her car.

Training told her that she needed to drive around for a while, doubling back, making sure she wasn't tailed before she went to her hide. But prudence for Jason's life told her to trust her rearview mirror and her instincts, take a slightly circuitous route and get Jason to a place where she could tend him. He was beginning to look pale in the street lights they passed and she knew that she had to get him patched up soon. She would just have to take her chances that if anyone did follow them, she could eliminate the threat.

When they finally did arrive at the out of the way house and she pulled her car into the old barn converted into a garage, she was doing her best to quell the panic rising up in her. She'd been trying to talk to Morgan, keep him awake, keep him alert, but he hadn't spoken to her in the past ten minutes. He was sweating, his skin was pale, and when he did manage to open his eyes to look at her - admittedly it was after she hit his cheek to pull him back from the brink of unconsciousness - they were pale and glassy. Hastily she unloaded the car and deposited everything inside, kicking on the heater inside the house, before running back to the car.

"Come on, Morgan," she said, pulling on his good arm to try to lever him out of the car. "You have to get out. You need to help me get you inside so I can take care of you."

He didn't respond and he didn't move and she knew that while she was strong, she simply didn't have the upper body strength required to move him. At least not gently. She could drag him if she had to, but she'd rather not; she didn't want to do more damage to his wound. But if she couldn't get him awake, she knew she'd have to move him forcibly.

"Morgan!" she yelled and once again slapped his face. "Wake up and help me. That's an order."

"When did you get so bossy?" he rasped, his eyes still closed, but at least looking a little more animated.

"Work with me here, Morgan," she commanded. "Get up and get inside the house."

With great effort, he moved his body, his free arm going to his side. He swore as he finally stood and swayed on his feet. Instantly she was there, letting him lean against her, bracing herself under his staggering weight, but determined to get him inside where she could activate the security system and then tend to him.

"That's it," she told him as they slowly began to move. "Lean on me, Morgan. I'm a lot stronger than I look."

"I know," he said softly. "You're strong."

"I'm glad to see that you're finally realizing that," she groused at him, straining under nearly the complete brunt force of his weight as he stumbled. Keep him moving and keep him talking; those were her only two objectives right now.

"I always knew that...I just didn't know..."

"If you could trust me because of Luke," she said, not bitter as his past actions began to make sense. Of course he would ride her case, of course he would treat her with indifference, he wanted her off-guard while he investigated her and the best way to do that was to act like he thought she was incompetent because she was a girl and she'd been trained by Luke Spencer while he was a Scorpio Agent through and through. It had worked. She never saw it coming.

"Yeah," he agreed, his voice softer than before. The door was looming up ahead, but it still felt like it was miles away as he leaned even heavier on her. "Now..."

She reached for the doorknob, never so grateful to see this place again in her life. She'd always hoped she'd never have to come here, now she was glad she had it. Managing to get him inside and still keep him vertical seemed like a major accomplishment and she breathed easier when she flipped the locks and activated the security system. Now she could get Jason to the couch and take care of him. The bedroom seemed too far away, they'd move there later.

"Now you figure you can trust me," she grinned, counting down the last few steps. "Or you're just stuck with no other alternative."

"I...I trust you," he told her, his face contorting as she lowered him to the cushions. "But...you can't..."

"I'm not telling anyone where we are," she assured him. "Not while we don't know who we can trust. Believe me; I'm not taking any chances. It's just you and me, Morgan. Now stop talking and let me take care of you."

When she looked up with a little smile at her joke, she frowned when she realized he'd expended the last of his energy making it inside and was now under the black cloud of unconsciousness. Looked like it was just her now. Good thing she had plenty of things to do right now to keep her awake she thought as she reached for the first aid bag.

There were many things that Jason Morgan hated, but being shot definitely was the worst. Sleeping in a rat-infested hut while he tracked down international criminals in third world countries, an annoyance. Getting his car stolen, and with it every piece of evidence against a suspect he'd followed for three days straight through the markets of Cairo, frustrating. But being shot and enduring the burning pain of hot metal piercing his body, and then dealing with the subsequent recovery...he absolutely hated it. This time around, the whole situation should have been worse. He wasn't tended to by a doctor, he was stitched up by someone who even in the jungles of Cambodia would have been considered a desperate last resort, and he was fighting off the pain and infection of his wound with a bare minimum amount of medication. For all of that, though, the whole experience wasn't bad as he would have first imagined.

He wasn't in a hospital, and that right there was a plus. Anytime he'd been injured on the job, Robert knew enough of his disposition to get him out of whatever medical facility he'd ended up in and took him to a private, well-stocked, WSB-owned recovery sight. He had a private nurse, something that definitely contributed to his disposition, and he didn't have to deal with the guy in the bed next to him hacking half the night because of pneumonia or griping half the day because of the hospital food, the lack of quality sound when he was watching TV or any other complaint. While the house Elizabeth Webber took him to might not be as well equipped as his previous recovery places, it wasn't a hospital so it definitely got points in his book.

Elizabeth was doing everything she could for him, to help him recover and fight the fever that had set in shortly after their arrival, but she wasn't hovering over him and smothering him to death with her worry and concern like Brenda had done the time he got shot in Kyrzigstan and she convinced Robert to fly out and join him. That was the last time Robert ever let himself be conned by one of Jason's girlfriends to attend to him after he'd been injured. Webber made sure he had his medication, that his bandages were clean and dry, that he had food - even if it was endless bowls of soup - and that he had books or magazines to read - even if the issues of Consumer Report were several years old, but she generally left him alone unless he called for her. Considering that he slept a good deal and she seemed to anticipate his needs, or maybe she just heard him moving around in the room considering how small the house was, he didn't have to call for her very often.

So when he woke up, used the head and then sat in bed reading until his stomach began to growl with hunger and Elizabeth didn't poke her head into the room just to check on him, he began to wonder where she was and what was keeping her. He debated calling for her, but didn't want to make it seem like he was expecting her to wait on him hand and foot, thus confirming her opinion of him as an arrogant jerk. Sure, he knew that the utterance he'd overheard her make to O'Brien was because she thought the reason he was riding her case or treating her with an act of disdain was because she was trained by Spencer instead of the real reason of wanting her annoyed with him so he could investigate her and the Port Charles section, but he didn't want her to think that he wasn't grateful for all that she'd done for him after bringing him out here. Plus, Jason was pretty sure that she'd hear him moving around in here and come scurrying in demanding to know why he was out of bed while instructing him that he needed to rest so that he could heal.

He was a bit surprised, then, to make it all the way out the front room without Elizabeth stopping him. Of course, when he got there and saw Elizabeth sitting on the floor, papers, folders, and what looked to be a police scanner sprawled across the table in front of the couch, he figured it was hard to hear him moving about or calling for her while she had headphones on. As he got closer, he amended that thought to being asleep. He raised a brow, his first thought being to chide her for falling asleep on the job, until he remembered that the shooting several days ago and she'd been awake and working every time he'd woken up. She was taking his care, and their safety, very seriously and he wondered if she was getting much sleep at all.

Pushing some folders aside, he sat down on the couch and gently reached out to touch Elizabeth's shoulder. She shot up like a firecracker, not even acknowledging the dangling headphones around her neck, or the fact that the cord was practically strangling her. Instead, she'd retrieved her service weapon, spun around and aimed it at him with deadly accuracy, and quickness, until she realized it was him. She had the grace to look a bit sheepish as she saftied her weapon and set it down on the table, then worked on extracting herself from the listening device. She took a couple of steps away from him, twisting her back and swinging her arms in a slow circle to get the circulation going while she took several deep breaths.

"Sorry about that."

They both spoke at the same time, and she laughed slightly while shaking her head. "No, that's okay. You just startled me. I guess you found out my real weakness...I'm worthless when I'm stuck listening to things. I invariably zone out or fall asleep."

"I didn't mean to scare you," he apologized. "I..."

He frowned and looked down, picking up a Port Charles newspaper dated yesterday. "When did you get this?"

"Yesterday," she stated the obvious. "I...I took a chance and dashed out to a corner where a paper dispenser is. Late enough to get the edition, but early enough that nobody would see me. I wanted to find out what the media were saying and how it differed from what I've been listening to the police saying."

"Is there an investigation?" he asked.

She nodded, rolling her neck to the side to loosen the muscles. "By the time they were able to douse the flames at my place and get inside, Lucky's body was burned beyond recognition. All they know is that he was a male, they found the bullet holes in the wall...but everything else was destroyed. They don't know that it's Lucky, they don't know where I am, just that I'm missing because Jax filed a missing persons report when he couldn't get a hold of me and then heard my place burned down."

"What about Alcazar?"

"He probably knows Lucky's missing, but I doubt he's really going to file a police report. People in Lucky's side of the business disappear all the time, and usually not in legal activities...men like Lorenzo aren't really going to file missing person's reports, because there's always someone there to replace them, and they're usually more focused on extracting revenge rather than justice."

She shrugged. "The problem with that is, we have no idea what he's up to. He won't be going through legal channels; we don't know what he suspects, who he'll try and retaliate against - though going after Corinthos wouldn't be a big stretch of the imagination. The worst part of this is that we can't even call anyone to find out what the Bureau's heard because we don't know who we can trust."

"I still can't believe Skye turned," Jason shook his head, looking down to scan the paper for lack of anything better to do.

"I don't think Lucky was making that up," Elizabeth said, a bit of an edge coming into her voice. "I mean, Lucky's a lot of things; stupid, reckless and apparently corrupt, and normally I would say prone to braggadocio, but I don't think this was just vain boasting."

"I'm not saying it was," he said, recognizing the tone her voice had hardened into and wanting to stave off a fight. "I...I'm not saying that she's above suspicion simply because Robert trained her and I worked with her. I mean...I just can't believe that she'd join this, that I misjudged her character."

Elizabeth paused and tipped her head to the side, studying him intently until he felt slightly uncomfortable. Then she simply said, "Oh."

Then she shook off whatever had gotten to her and turned to other things. "I don't know how much longer we can stay hidden here. Luke's got to know that Lucky's missing, even though Max and Johnny never knew about this place, I'm sure they know that I've got a hide around Port Charles, if they've been turned, they'll be looking for it. Even if they haven't, they're probably looking for me 'cause I disappeared. Luke trained me, he's the one who taught me to have a safe place to run to...I just..."

"It'd be smart to not stay in one place too long," Jason agreed.

She nodded. "I knew I had to bring you here so I could patch you up and figure out what to do. This was someplace safe, but who knows for how long. I would prefer that you had a little more time to heal before we run-"

"But time is a luxury we don't have," Jason interrupted.

She frowned at him, that same look of deep study back on her face. This time he questioned her. "What?"

"It's just strange," she shook her head. "I'm not used to you agreeing with me. I keep expecting you to bite my head off, tell me that I'm wrong, that my ideas are flawed, that my plan is unacceptable, that-"

"I understand," he once again interrupted. "You know why I was doing that though, right?"

"You didn't know if I'd been turned by Luke," she said simply. "So it was a case of misdirection while you investigated me. Get me mad at you, make me think you were an arrogant prick, whatever you want to call it and I would be so focused on that that I wouldn't notice what you were really doing. A human shell game. Problem is, you did it so well that I keep expecting you to slip back into that mode. So when you actually agree with me I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop or for you to exhibit signs of a fever."

"I can start barking orders again," he said. "Tell you your ideas suck and a Girl Scout could do better."

She laughed, her face relaxing slightly, and shook her head. "That's okay. I...I actually like this Jason Morgan better. It'll just take a little bit getting used to."

Elizabeth hated down time. She hated waiting. She hated sitting around with nothing to do. She liked being active, she liked having something to think about, a puzzle to figure out, something to occupy her time with. It was one of the reasons she was so intrigued when she was approached at college to come interview at the WSB. This wasn't a job you could just apply for, you had to be singled out, selected to come join the ranks of agents who fought to bring justice to the world. She was honored, and also very intrigued.

Human nature fascinated her because it wasn't controlled by rigid strictures like hard sciences. Acids, bases, formulas, reactions...they had rules to govern them. But human behavior wasn't like that. Nobody could predict with 100% accuracy what any given person would do in any given situation. There were a myriad of factors, triggers and backgrounds that caused people to do things. Trying to get inside a criminal's head, look at his history, his life, and his past behavior and try to make an educated guess - because that's all anybody could do - and say what he would do next, what he would do, who he would go after...she loved the mystery of it all. She didn't always get it right, but it never bored her. She loved trying to crack the equation so to speak.

Whenever she was forced to go on vacation, either by Luke or by one of the Bureau's HR people - working from a strong suggestion by one of their shrinks so she didn't burn out - she would sit around bored out of her skull. She would read mystery novels from the classics to the latest pulp fiction always figuring out halfway through the book who the culprit was. Then she'd keep reading to see if she was right. She'd read real life crime books just to keep her skills honed and see what the detectives in those cases had done, and then she'd fill up entire legal pads full of notes on what she would have done if she'd been working the case. She couldn't walk away from her work, because she didn't want to. She was so grateful to Luke for recognizing her potential and bringing her into the fold.

Now she was second-guessing every time they were together, every word of praise he ever directed her way, and wondering if everything had been based on a lie. Had Luke only recruited her because he thought he could turn her, because he thought he could get her indebted to him and she would turn on her principles? Was every promotion, every commendation nothing more than a sham, or had she really earned it? Was the real reason Robert Scorpio couldn't stand her because she really was an incompetent idiot who didn't belong in the WSB but had been kept in by Luke all as a part of his master plan?

While she'd been taking care of Jason, getting them both to safety, making sure he recovered from his gunshot, and then once again going on the run, she didn't have time to think about these poisonous thoughts. She was too worried about Jason bleeding to death in her car, and then not being able to get his fever and infection under control. There had been three very long hours when he'd been at his worst that she'd nearly dragged him to her car to take him to the hospital because she refused to let him die. She didn't care if she'd been apprehended, or taken out by a dirty agent, she wasn't going to sit back and watch him die because of fear for herself. Her relief had been great when his fever finally broke and he began to mend.

Once that fear and worry was over, she moved onto the next focus. Find out what the police knew, while formulating their escape. They had to keep three steps ahead of anyone who might come looking for them, changing locations and identifications, so they could then worry about the next thing. Who could they trust enough to contact? That had been a hard day for her emotionally. By the time Jason finally broached the topic, she'd had a couple sleepless nights' worth of doubts and questions and she wasn't sure she trusted her instincts anymore. She wasn't sure she trusted Johnny or Max, two men a month ago she would have sworn to anyone who would listen that they would lay down their lives for her and she would do the same for them. Had Luke or Lucky turned them? Were they looking for her? Were they wondering where Lucky was?

So when Jason said that the only logical explanation was to call Robert, she'd agreed. Not because she thought Scorpio was some amazing agent like Jason did, but because there wasn't anyone else she could think of. Jason didn't dare trust any of the agents he'd brought along with him after learning that Skye had been turned. Elizabeth agreed with him that the chances of Robert being corrupted like Luke were slim and he was their best bet for discreet help and information.

That didn't mean she was looking forward to the meeting. Jason told her that he'd vouch for her with Robert, and she appreciated the gesture, but it felt empty to her. She felt hollow inside. Everything that'd she'd held onto since joining the Bureau had been destroyed, the people that she counted on to go after the bad guys had been criminals themselves. Her faith in others, her strongly held beliefs had been shattered, and what did it really matter if Jason swore to Robert that she hadn't been involved with Luke's plans? Scorpio would still hate her, most likely thinking she was stupid for not realizing what had happened sooner. What did the WSB need with a blind and stupid agent when she was being paid to read people and get inside their heads and understand their motivations and actions before they even realized them?

Her career was over. Everything that she'd worked for, every obstacle she'd thought she'd overcome by being smarter and better than her co-agents in order to overcome their stigmas and prejudices against her because she looked like Gidget or Pollyanna, everything had been for naught. She'd never work in the Bureau again. Everyone would forever wonder about her, look at her askance, the fear and the doubt that she was really working alongside Luke and was just biding her time to make her move would always be there, every time they looked at her or were forced to work with her. And she wouldn't blame them. She was tainted, stained by Lucky and Luke's sins, and it would be too hard to fight against it to keep her job.

She simply had no idea what she would do after she turned her resignation in to Robert.

Elizabeth Webber was sulking. It wasn't something Jason Morgan ever thought he'd see her do. Even when he first came into Port Charles, making her loathe him by acting arrogant and superior to everyone around him, she'd never sulked. Sure, she'd been subversive, she'd looked like she'd gladly remove certain parts of his anatomy simply for the sure pleasure of it, and she'd always looked highly annoyed, but she never sulked. She never sat around, quiet, unresponsive and looking...depressed.

When they were on the run after he was shot, she was always in a controlled flurry of activity. She poured over maps, newspapers, and her illegible chicken scratch-filled journals of notes, observations and suppositions as she formulated her thoughts into a plan. Even when she was thinking deeply, she was never still. It was as if the electrical pathways of her brain weren't contained to just thinking, they spilled over to the rest of her body, burning off excess energy. She bounced her foot, tapped her fingers on the table, clicked and un-clicked the top on a pen until Jason was ready to rip it out of her hand and fling it against the wall. But he didn't because whatever she needed to do in order to be able to think and come up with their next move, he didn't want to throw her off. Everyone had their quirks, hers was never being still.

So it was odd to see her slow down, sit for hours and do nothing more than just look out the window or stare blankly at the wall. Ever since they'd found their latest hiding place and decided to call Robert, figuring it was safe now to contact someone and he was the only one they could trust, Elizabeth Webber had shut down. Maybe it was just the relief of not having to plan all the time, maybe that was it. But something in Jason's gut said it wasn't. There was something more behind her sudden change of mood and he spent his time trying to figure it out.

Maybe she was just nervous about meeting Robert again. Scorpio had dismissed her, ridden her case even harder than Jason had, but that was just because he was annoyed at the thought that someone as brilliant as she was could have thrown their lot in with Spencer. Now that Robert would find out that Elizabeth hadn't been involved in any of Spencer's schemes, that she'd been duped and blindsided by her mentor's actions, he would be relieved. Jason's mentor had always lamented the fact that he hadn't discovered Elizabeth Webber before Luke Spencer. He'd always said her mind was exactly suited for being an agent, that she had some of the finest instincts he'd come across in the Bureau and if he had just taken that recruiting trip instead of Spencer he would have found her and trained her right instead of letting her be tainted by Luke.

Jason had tried to reassure her, but it hadn't seemed to work. In fact, the night he'd talked to her about Robert, was the last time he'd seen any sort of action from her. She'd stayed up late, creeping out of her room long after she'd probably figured he'd fallen asleep, and sat at the kitchen table for hours. In fact, Jason had been asleep, but years of training had caused him to wake up when he heard the slight whisper of her door hinges and he'd stood in the hallway, observing her as she sat at the table, a piece of paper and pen in hand. She tapped the pen against her teeth, drummed her fingers on the table as she clearly agonized and contemplated the blank parchment before her, and then she wrote. When she finished, she signed her name with a flourish, folded it and tucked it into an envelope, printed a name on the front and then slowly unfolded herself from the chair she'd sat on with her legs tucked up underneath her.

In the days that followed that, she looked lifeless and dull. Her sparkle, her fight, her determination seemed to have bled out of her pen and onto the paper that was hidden somewhere in her room. She seemed...resigned.

Jason's eyes widened as he glanced at her sharply. That was the word for her, resignation. And that's what she had done. She had written her resignation letter. She was quitting the Bureau.

No. There was no need for that. Yes, it might be tough at first, she would be investigated, and people might look at her, searching for clues or wondering if she was a sleeper agent waiting for her instructions to join Luke Spencer's next phase. But in time that would fade away, especially when Robert threw his complete and unconditional support behind her. Combined with Jason's write-up of the events that had taken place, she would be exonerated; Robert was even going to recommend her for a promotion and a service star that would go in her official personnel file. She was going to just give up without a fight? That wasn't the Elizabeth Webber Jason had come to know.

He wanted to go over there and shake her, tell her he knew what she was planning and there was no need for it. That she needed to hold her head high, show her strength, her class, her superiority to the few idiots who might doubt for a little while but she'd prove them wrong. He wanted to tell her that he believed in her, that she'd saved his life and she'd proven herself to him and he would pledge all his support and resources to her. Somehow, though, he didn't think she'd listen to him or believe him. It was like she'd become a hollow shell of the agent who had challenged him every step of the way and bested him in the shooting competition. He wondered how he could get her back to that point.

The Bureau would lose a great deal if Elizabeth Webber quit it for the private sector and he was determined to not let it happen. So the first step in that plan would be to tell Robert what he suspected and convince his boss not to accept her resignation.

"I won't accept it."

Elizabeth blinked and looked at Robert Scorpio like he'd grown another head in the last three seconds. Maybe he'd been abducted by aliens, caught and had a lobotomy performed on his way here...something that would account for the incomprehensible pronouncement he made of not accepting her letter of resignation. She looked over at Jason and knew that she couldn't blame this on him. As they had waited for Scorpio to arrive, he had taken to watching her intently. He'd even tried to strike up a conversation with her. The only thing he managed to do was make her uncomfortable, and then suspicious.

Once again he began going on about putting in a good with Robert, telling her that he respected her work as an agent and he was sure that things would work out for her with the Bureau. When she didn't share his enthusiasm and continued to sit without saying much, he began to seem a little desperate. His words became bolder, and without actually saying he knew what she was planning, he talked about her not giving up. Told her not to give the idiots she was worried about the satisfaction of making her run with her tail between her legs. It was all very surreal, because she had expected him to agree with her plan. Not fight her.

When they heard a car approach, they both stood and Elizabeth pulled out a crinkled and folded envelope from her pocket and had it in hand when Robert Scorpio walked through the door. Jason tried to pull him aside to talk to him, but she wouldn't let him. Walking up to the man who had always looked down on her because of her association with Luke, she handed him what she thought he would go into raptures about; her letter of resignation. Instead, the elderly agent carefully unfolded it, arched a brow at the condition of the letter and read it silently. Then he looked at her, crumpled the paper into a ball and shook his head. Jason smiled, and she wanted to scream in frustration.

Now, he continued to hold fast to his decision, no matter how much she argued against him. Jason backed up his mentor, but that wasn't surprising - she'd pegged him that way and didn't expect him to go against Robert. What was surprising was that neither man agreed with her.

She paced away from both of them and dragged her hands through her hair, dislodging her ponytail. "What is wrong with you?" she growled at them. "Why are you being so stubborn?"

"Why are you being a martyr?" the Australian challenged in his gravelly voice.

"A martyr?" she huffed. "How about the only person in this room who's thinking sensibly. I would have thought that you, of all people, would have agreed with this. In fact, I expected you to come through the door demanding for it. I'm tainted."

"You're one of the best agents the Bureau has."

She nearly blushed. It surprised her how those few words, spoken simply but honestly could suddenly make her feel warmed from the inside out. They were words of respect from a man that she never thought would say them to her, and under any other circumstances she would have been thrilled to hear them. But these weren't other circumstances and she couldn't understand the pig-headed resistance she was meeting.

"I think you're missing the point here," she shook her head, brushing off her feelings and focusing on the real matter at hand. "I'm talking about my future, and more importantly the good of the Bureau."

"The good of the Bureau is to have competent, smart and well-trained individuals," Jason spoke up. "You meet those qualifications; in fact, you surpass them."

Praise from Jason Morgan was just as surprising, if not more so, than praise from Robert Scorpio. Maybe it was because they'd worked together every day and she had him constantly growling at her, glaring at her, watching at her as if he was waiting for her to screw up. And considering the circumstances with Luke, he had been. But it was because of those circumstances with Luke that she was doing this.

"I...I'll be honest and say that means a lot, coming from both of you," she admitted to them. "But we all know why I'm doing, and more importantly, why I need to do this. Because of my association with Luke Spencer, I'm no longer an asset to the Bureau. People are always going to suspect me, they're going to watch me, they're going to wonder if I really am clean, or if I was just a good actress who's merely biding her time. Every superior officer I get assigned to is not going to want me on their team. I'm going to be the agent that everyone tries to pawn off, pass off to another city, another department, someone else. And the unlucky person who does get stuck with me is never going to trust me and stick me with the worst assignments, the things that it won't matter if I turn and screw up their investigation."

Elizabeth shook her head and looked each man squarely in the eye. "I won't work like that. I can't work like that. I usually don't care what people think, but I won't stay in a place where I know that my career will be stalled. That I'll never be promoted, that I'll never be given challenging assignments that will stretch me and test me, that I'll never be trusted. People will turn their backs on me when I walk down a hall, they'll stop talking when I walk in a room and they'll start up again when I leave. You know they will."

Robert and Jason shared a long look, and even though they didn't speak, she knew what they were saying. She was right. While they appeared to hate the thought, she was right and they couldn't guarantee that what she described wouldn't happen. "I could put you on my team; assign you to work with Morgan here."

She appreciated the offer, she really did, but she knew it wouldn't work. And she knew that they knew it as well. Shaking her head, she stepped forward and met the steady gaze of the man she'd once considered incompetent, arrogant and a mistake the Bureau made in hiring. Now she knew the truth and she wished that things could have been different, that it had been Scorpio that had come to her college to recruit her, that she could work with him and Morgan and learn from them while truly going places. But wishes were for fools and children and she was neither. Her career was over and it was best to just bow out gracefully.

"It won't work, then everyone would suspect you as well. No, this is for the best."

"We could use your help making the case against Spencer, finding out which agents are working for him, and we still have the investigation into Corinthos and Alcazar."

"We both know that I shouldn't work on any more cases, my involvement already will be grounds enough for any defense attorney to call the evidence into question, I won't give them further ammunition. As for Luke..." Elizabeth trailed off and looked away. "His boy died and I didn't. He's not going to trust me. I took off with Morgan and didn't try to contact him; he knows I won't be turned. The word's already out, nobody will trust me enough to confide in me. They might even..."

She stopped, not willing to go forward with that thought.

"They might try to kill you for revenge," Jason said, finishing her statement.

She merely shrugged her eyebrows; it was an option she knew she was stuck with, a chance she was going to have to take. Just like any agent lived with the threat of an associate or family member of one of their arrests coming after them, seeking revenge, she knew that she would always have to be on her guard against the possibility of Luke coming after her or sending someone to finish the job.

"Alright," Scorpio said. "You're probably right, and since it is your career, I can't force you to stay. I'd hoped to keep you closer so that Morgan or I could protect you, but I understand, Webber. I wish it didn't have to end this way."

"You and me both," she said wryly.

"But Morgan makes a good point with your safety. While we make the case against Spencer and his agents, we need to keep you safe. You're going to have to disappear and the fewer people who know where you are, the better."

She nodded her agreement. She'd expected something like this. She hated it on sheer principle, and she hated it because it would enforce down time on her. She wouldn't be able to go places or do things, Elizabeth would have to lay low, keep out of sight, and try not to attract attention. This was going to be worse than a vacation. Just great.

"Where am I going?" she asked.

"I don't know yet," Scorpio shook his head. "I need to make some inquiries, figure out the best place to hide you where Spencer won't look for you. I want you to stay alive, Webber, so I'm not sending you anywhere until I can be reasonably assured of that."

A week later, Elizabeth found herself on her way to her forced isolation. True to his word Robert refused to just send her off anywhere, he didn't act hastily, he acted with great deliberation. He was determined that wherever she was sent, Luke - and his followers - wouldn't be able to find her and extract their revenge.

What surprised her, though, was the fact that she found out it wasn't Robert who found the out-of-the-way place on a nameless place in a backwater country, it was Jason. She had thought that when he disappeared from their hideout after Robert arrived that he had returned to Port Charles to begin the investigation into Luke and the rest of the agents as well as keep the investigation into Corinthos and Alcazar going. He had done that, but he'd also made contacts with people Scorpio knew nothing about in order to find a place for Elizabeth to hide. Both men figured that Luke wouldn't know as much about Morgan and wouldn't know where to look for her. Spencer would assume that Robert would be hiding her away, and Luke was arrogant enough to pride himself on knowing how his nemesis' mind worked and could crack whatever subterfuge Robert came up with.

Instead, Robert left everything up to Jason. He had actually relinquished control of something, a fact which amazed Elizabeth because despite Morgan's praises of the man, she still at times harbored Luke-tainted impressions of the Australian. She was learning, though, that those impressions were wrong. While she spent the week with him, debriefing on the Corinthos/Alcazar investigation and then answering questions regarding Luke's activities, she came to see a different side of the man. She also believed that he no longer saw her as a ridiculous sprite as he'd once called her back when they first met after the Bureau hired her.

He was grateful for her memory, for her ability to recall names, dates, numbers, accounts, anything - no matter how insignificant she might think it was - that she'd seen in a folder or on a scrap of paper. He showed her endless mugshots and she was able to pick out men that Luke had introduced her to and what aliases he'd used for them, and himself, at the time. Robert took copious notes, staying up late after she fell asleep to sift through them and piece together a chronology of Luke's activities. It saddened her to know that she was handing his head over to the Bureau, but she knew that he had brought this on himself by his activities. Plus, she hoped that by her cooperating and willingly resigning from the security agency, that it might help others believe, or at least consider, that she wasn't involved. What she really hoped for was that this could be put in her service jacket under classified, her departure from the WSB could be labeled as mutually amicable and when she went looking for work this didn't become a black mark against her.

It might be a bit hard to come by, but when she brought it up to Scorpio on her last night at the hideaway, he promised her that he would do everything to fulfill her requests. He said it was the least the Bureau owed her, and she believed he would do his best. He took her to the airport, gave her the first of her airplane tickets and told her who her next contact would be when she arrived and that this person would have everything needed for the next leg of her journey. He wouldn't know where she ended up; the only person who would know was Jason. The two men felt it would be safer that way. Spencer would go after Robert first, and this way she would be protected.

Jason was nowhere to be found that morning, and so she was forced to pass along her thanks to him through Robert. She kept her thanks lighter and shorter than she would have if Morgan had actually been there, and maybe it was for the best. This way there were no emotional good-byes, no lingering entanglements. Everything was cut and dried and carried out with perfect Bureau efficiency.

Yet, it didn't keep her from lingering in the boarding area as long as she could until the stewardess told her she had to get on the plane. She'd hoped that Jason might throw rules and regulations to the wind and at least come say good-bye to the person who'd saved his life. But...he didn't show up, and she boarded the plane and silently slipped into her seat. She was disappearing for who knew how long, going to a place where she knew no one and had no contacts except for a number Robert had pressed into her hand, told her to memorize the number and then eat the paper. He hadn't been joking. He said nothing of when the case would be over and she didn't ask for empty promises or useless conjectures. She didn't worry about that…but she did wonder when, or if, she'd ever see Morgan again.

Another day, another headache. Each day, from before the sun rose until way after it sent, Jason and Robert worked endlessly on a two-fold mission. They worked on bringing down Sonny Corinthos and Lorenzo Alcazar, and they worked on weeding out which agents had been turned and tainted by Luke Spencer. Because they were working in the shadows by the necessity of self-preservation, they were making great headway against the mob. Corinthos was a vain and arrogant man who believed that if he couldn't see it, it didn't exist. Because he knew the WSB was in disarray after some unknown shake-up, he believed himself to be safe. Internal politics, he presumed, would keep them from focusing on him.

His arrogance would lead to his downfall. He was acting bold, recklessly and the days spent tailing him had proved fruitful. The nights were spent by Jason and Robert compiling their notes, meticulously cataloging the evidence and then catching a few hours of sleep before starting the routine all over again. Scorpio liked to have background noise while he worked, and Jason could always tell his moods by the programs on the television. So the day that he arrived at the dingy two room apartment in a run down section of the city and heard the strains of futuristic music from an old sci-fi show Robert swore was a classic he knew there had been a breakthrough.

It couldn't have come at a better time. While Jason was a man who didn't need much sleep to survive, even he was feeling the effects of only three hours of sleep a night for the past three weeks. He was tired, he was short tempered, he was anxious to get things done and taken care of before either side caught wind of their investigation, and he was worried. So far his contact had reported in that Webber had arrived and seemed to be settling into her place, but Jason wouldn't be completely at ease until Spencer and his lackeys were caught and behind bars and wouldn't be hunting her down on their vendetta. Every day that his phone didn't ring and the emergency password wasn't uttered he considered it a good day. But the longer this investigation went on, the less and less he counted on good days.

Wearily Jason walked into the main room of the apartment and collapsed into the threadbare chair that kicked up puffs of dust every time someone sat down. Robert looked up from his notes, then stood and switched off the television. "Ah good, Morgan, you're back."

Jason merely nodded, knowing that Robert would understand he was too tired to speak and would soon get down to business.

"We've got a breakthrough." His weathered face crinkled up with his wide smile and Jason knew that when Robert displayed his emotions instead of keeping a stoic reserve that things were indeed good. If they could make his mentor unable to temper his emotions, then maybe they really had caught the break they'd been hoping for these past three weeks.

"Corinthos was seen today meeting with a representative from a family in Miami, a Manny Ruiz, and a mere few hours later, Alcazar was shot outside The No Name. I tipped off my trusted contacts in the PCPD and they found Ruiz, with the weapon. We've got Corinthos on more than just RICO violations; we've got him on attempted murder, contracting an assassin, transporting the assassin over state lines. We've got him red-handed. As we speak, police are raiding his home and that of Lorenzo Alcazar and by morning we should have all our ducks in a row for his arrest."

"Good." The single word was heartfelt with pride in the work they'd done to bring justice to the town, but also with relief. Their mission was nearly complete, at least in that regard.

"What did you find out today?" Robert asked.

"O'Brien and Kozimor are clean, I'm nearly completely certain. I've been watching all the agents, sending in misleading and misdirecting tips and information to different ones so I could watch how they reacted and where they went. Today the two of them got a tip that a Jane Doe, a burn victim found the night Webber's apartment was torched and brought in to a local hospital several counties over where her car was discovered two days ago, died. They went there to try to identify the body, took a sample for DNA that I paid off the lab tech to match to Elizabeth. They weren't relieved, they didn't attempt to contact anybody, but they do believe she's dead."

And they looked completely devastated. There was no mistaking their emotions; no reason for him to believe that their grief was orchestrated. Jason was trained and trusted to read people's reactions and his honest gut feeling was that they were mourning their friend. The two agents knew that something had gone down inside the Bureau, that something had happened that night with Elizabeth and him and Lucky Spencer, and they also heard the whispers going around about Luke Spencer. For as much as he'd dismissed them when he first arrived because they'd been trained by Spencer and worked with Elizabeth, not to mention losing Alcazar and allowing Elizabeth to be caught in his office thereby putting not only the investigation but her at risk, he had come to see that they were hard-working agents who were smart and trustworthy. They also weren't corrupted. There was no concrete proof, but that wasn't needed for Jason. Today he'd taken them out of the questionable column and put them firmly on his and Robert's side.

There were, of course, other agents in the Port Charles section that had been trained by Luke who had thrown their lot in with the traitor. Those agents were slowly being singled out, isolated and Jason's plan was nearly complete for their arrest. The one snag to this whole plan was Luke Spencer. The man had gone to ground and nobody could find him. Jason and Robert knew that no matter how many traitors they arrested, without arresting Spencer, they were merely trying to empty the ocean with teaspoons. Spencer would hide, he would wait, and he would come back with a new plan, and most likely vengeance. And that was especially bad for Elizabeth Webber. She would be a target for Spencer because Lucky had died in her house, and he would take her rejection of his plan particularly personal. He had often called her the daughter he never had, being betrayed by family would be a severe blow to Spencer's ego.

Jason was determined to see Luke arrested and brought to justice, not just for his innate sense of right and wrong that demanded a criminal be behind bars, but for Elizabeth. She deserved to have a life that didn't include hiding, fleeing from place to place and constantly looking over her shoulder wondering when the bullet that had her name on it would finally find her. He wouldn't subject her to that, and if it meant that he spent every moment he had tracking Spencer, then he would do that.

"Do you think we can use them?" Robert asked, pulling Jason from his thoughts and bringing him back to the present.

"We probably could," he said with a shrug. "Of course, they're bound to swear revenge on her killer and start kicking up a fuss. We could use their actions as a distraction."

"Right," Scorpio nodded. "Spencer will watch them, probably toy with them as he's wont to do, and while he's leading them on a chase or trying to keep ahead of them-"

"We come in," Jason nodded. "We may also have another angle."

"What's that?" Robert asked, leaning back against the couch.

"Skye. She went along with Lucky, but she's always been ambitious. Lucky probably didn't even know he was being played, but my guess is Skye insisted she speak with Luke about this. She always insisted on knowing everything, on being fully in the loop and even taking over certain aspects. It's one of the reasons we never lasted, she couldn't give up control and I got tired of fighting her for it."

Robert smirked at Jason, knowing what the younger man hadn't said, and nodded. "Skye always had grand designs, and she was one of our most talented agents. She could charm the pants off anyone, which is why Lorenzo probably never suspected she was playing him while bedding the young Spencer whelp. Of course she wouldn't be content with Junior when she could have Daddy."

"It's just a matter of breaking her so we can use her," Jason said emotionlessly. Sure he may have dated Skye, but any lingering feelings - and there weren't many - were gone when she had betrayed the Bureau and thrown her lot in with criminals. "Do we arrest her, or leave her free in the hopes that she'll contact Spencer?"

"Leave her free for right now," Robert suggested with all the power of a direct order. "If she's arrested, Spencer will cut her loose without a second glance. But if she's free, she may think well enough of herself to convince him that she fooled everyone. She'll more than likely demand to come to wherever he's at, and we can follow."

Jason nodded his agreement. They'd rattle her cage a little, but that probably wouldn't be necessary. With the shooting of Lorenzo and the arrest of Sonny Corinthos, she'd probably fear that her position of power was tenuous. Lorenzo would be investigated in connection with the Corinthos arrest, and she would want to distance herself from that. Jason also suspected that based on what Lucky had revealed of his old man's plans, Spencer would probably see this power vacuum as the perfect opportunity to step in and grab what he could. Skye would be smart enough to see that as well and she'd want to make sure she was firmly entrenched in Spencer's camp so she wouldn't lose any of her prestige that she'd gained while being Alcazar's mistress. She'd be contacting him soon, and they'd be watching her. With a lot of luck, they'd get a line on Spencer.

Jason would be relieved when this whole thing was over. The investigations, the weeding out of snakes and turncoats, the constant worry not only for his own back, but for someone thousands of miles away that he'd made a promise to. Elizabeth was trusting him to make this right, and he refused to let her down. He knew it hadn't been easy for her to give up control over her situation, she was strong, she was stubborn and she was definitely used to doing things her own way. His honor demanded that he protect her, as well as his gratitude for everything she'd done to save his life. He just hoped that he would be able to tell her that it was all over soon; and that he never got a phone call telling him that Spencer had found her.

Elizabeth Webber was not an artist. She did not have one single ounce of creativity in her that she could use paint or pencil to put down onto paper. She had to give Jason Morgan points for creativity, though, for stocking her hide out with all kinds of artist supplies, but it was a hopeless case. While Elizabeth possessed a photographic memory and could pick out a suspect hundreds of mug shots, she had never been able to accurately draw a suspect. The one time she'd been forced to try, had been an unmitigated disaster. Maybe Jason knew that and that was why he'd given her a cover as an artist. As an artist it wouldn't be unusual for her to spend hours, even days, inside her house without contacting others. Perfect excuse for her to stay tucked away, hidden - hopefully - from Luke Spencer's prying eyes. He also - again, hopefully - wouldn't be looking for her hidden in a place where art supplies were being delivered.

Elizabeth didn't think that Jason ever expected her to try using the supplies; it had merely been all a part of an elaborately detailed plan. The man was anal that way. But after weeks of boredom, Elizabeth had in a fit of irrationality tried her hand at creating something. Mostly it was a means of distraction; she was looking for something to do. She'd tried painting a few things, and then sat around laughing at her paltry, pathetic attempts. She was really glad no one had seen the disasters she'd thrown away.

She was itching for something to do. Robert had told her to stay away from things she would normally do and buy, which meant she stayed away from mysteries and true crime novels. Jason had stocked the house with classics and girl novels. She'd read Dickens, skipped Danielle Steele. At first. But after weeks upon endless weeks of mind-numbing inactivity and boredom threatening to give way into reckless restlessness, she'd picked up the trashy novels she'd previously discarded and read them. But after reading every book at least twice, she couldn't look at another printed word. She'd given up trying to find a distraction through television; she was so far off the beaten path that there wasn't much worth watching; besides she'd never been much of a TV person.

One day after she'd gone down to the little outpost market, after of course watching carefully for signs she was being followed and relishing in the feel of the gun tucked squarely at the small of her back, she'd found a little bin with yarn and knitting needles and one old, outdated, pattern book. She'd picked it in another fit of desperation and took it home with her. Turned out, she actually could create something. She just needed yarn and needles to do so. She could knit. Who knew? Certainly not her, she'd never pegged herself as the domestic, crafty type. But it was something to do, something she actually could do, and it helped break up the monotony. The problem was, she was supposed to be an artist, not a knitter, and so she couldn't constantly be purchasing yarn when she her cover was an artist. So, she poured over the patterns in the book, figured up how many skeins of yarn she'd need to purchase the next time, and waited an appropriate amount of time before she headed back down to the outpost and made her next purchase. She was worried, though, by the wink the store keeper gave her last time that she wasn't fooling anyone, or that she was dangerously drawing suspicion. She was determined not to buy yarn for at least six weeks, possibly more. Which completely sucked.

So now, Elizabeth was once again, trapped in boredom. The day had seemed to drag on eternally and the third day of steady rain only added to her restlessness. Outside the world was bleak and gray and the storm that had settled in over the area interfered with what little television reception she had, and she'd long exhausted the supply of movies Jason had stocked in the house. With nothing to watch, nothing she cared to read, and her one source of relief temporarily unavailable, Elizabeth had turned to writing letters. She knew they would never be sent, she didn't have many remaining family members and even fewer friends - and most of them believed she was dead - but she was glad for at least some activity until her hand began to ache and she was forced to abandon it.

With nothing else to do, she determined to have an early dinner and go to bed, picking the least offensive book she wouldn't mind to read for the third or fourth time. So steeped in her depressed misery she didn't think anything of it when the wind rattled the shutters on the windows, or when the power went out after a particularly close strike of lightening. She sighed, dropped her fork to her plate and welcomed the excuse to escape the tasteless meal and leave the table. Entering the kitchen, she reached for the heavy duty flashlight and switched it on, the circle of illumination making her squint slightly as her eyes adjusted to it. The fuse box might have blown, or the power to the area might be out, but she knew how to work the generator outside and all she needed to was start it up. Slipping on her rain coat and stuffing her feet inside the rubber boots, she made sure the hood was up before opening the door.

She turned to the right where the generator was located and as she rounded the corner of the house, she screamed at the ghost sitting on top of the appliance. Luke Spencer unfurled himself, standing like a malevolent creature and smiled at her in a determinedly feral way. "Hello, Darlin', long time no see."

She swallowed against the stone that had taken up lodging in her throat, her hand tightening against the only weapon she held. But she was smart enough to know that the flashlight, despite how big and sturdy it might be, was no match for the gun that resided in Luke's right hand, aimed straight at her heart.

"Lu-Luke."

"Aren't you goin' to invite me in, Liz?" he asked taking a step towards her. She matched it with an involuntary one backwards. "No sense either of us standin' out here in the rain when you have such a cozy little house to provide us shelter from the storm."

By the time he finished speaking, they were at the door, and he leaned forward, reaching around her stiff body to twist the handle and usher them inside. Immediately her training kicked into gear as she backed into the room and she looked for possible ways to disarm her opponent and escape the fate she was sure she was facing. Luke smirked as he watched her, obviously knowing what was going through her mind, and he took great delight in lifting up his gun and wagging it at her mockingly.

"I know what you're thinkin', Darlin'," he chided her. "And I would advise against it. You might have the quickness of youth on your side, but even you aren't so fast that you can outrun a bullet. Now, let's be smart about this. I only want to talk to you."

"Only want to talk," Elizabeth snorted. "Somehow I don't really believe that, Luke."

He shrugged, not at all bothered that she had seen through his lie, and then waved the gun towards the living room, letting her know where he wanted her to go. She had no choice except compliance and she walked ahead of him towards the sofa where he indicated she should sit. Her rain coat was dripping water on the floor and began to soak into the cushions when she sat down. Luke perched on the arm of the chair across from her, mostly in shadow since the flashlight in her hands drooped towards the floor, letting only a little illumination reach the majority of the room. She didn't speak, didn't ask him how he'd found her, didn't ask why he was there; she wasn't going to let him know he'd rattled her, wasn't going to admit she was scared and she certainly wasn't going to beg for her life. Luke would eventually grow tired of the silence and he would launch into a soliloquy that would make any James Bond villain proud, she just had to wait.

"You know why I'm here," he said, his voice soft in its lethal tenor. "It's not that the Bureau thinks it can use you against me in this case they're building."

That surprised her, and she hoped it didn't show in the poorly lit room.

"Business is business," he replied, almost in an off-hand manner. "Robert and I have been playing this game for years, he was always too much of a Boy Scout for my tastes, never understood that sometimes you have to bend the rules, live in the murky gray that he so despises, and sometimes your gambles fail. It's not the end of the world, life goes on and you pick yourself up to fight another day, go onto the next scheme."

If that was true, then she was beginning to wonder why he really was there. Everyone had been so certain her life was in danger for agreeing to testify against Luke Spencer...had they misjudged the man once again?

"But family," he said, his voice sharpening like the edge of a knife and her skin chilled instantly. "Family is everything. Me and the Cowboy; we were all each other had after his mother died. And you took my family away from, Liz. After everything I did for you, finding you, plucking you out of obscurity in your rinky-dink college, bringing you into one of the world's most elite and well-revered organizations…you thank me by killing my boy."

Elizabeth swallowed. Fear crept down her spine and wrapped around her waist, squeezing tight. This wasn't business...this was personal. And personal with Luke Spencer was a deadly business. She knew that he had stopped at nothing, had hunted his wife's killer down for years until he found the poor, unfortunate sap and put a bullet between the man's eyes. The Bureau had officially called it a clean shoot, but in actuality they'd looked the other way because Laura Spencer was as well-known and even more beloved than her husband. She'd been a surrogate mother to many of the orphaned agents the Bureau had a tendency to recruit. When she was murdered outside the family's home by a revenge-seeking criminal, the agency had deeply mourned her death.

Luke Spencer had now turned that lethal intensity on her because Lucky had died inside her home. It wouldn't matter to Luke that he would have bled to death from Jason's gunshots even if she hadn't put the final bullet in his brain, she had fired the kill shot, therefore she was his number one enemy. Maybe his bloodlust would be satisfied with her death and he wouldn't hunt after Jason, but somehow he didn't think that would be the case. His son had died, his namesake, his protégé, he would not rest until everyone Luke viewed as responsible for that death was dead as well.

"Don't you even have anything to say for yourself?" Luke suddenly bellowed causing her to flinch and the light in her hand to dance. "You killed my boy! He was your friend, he looked out for you!"

"He was going to kill me!" she shouted back at him. "Because I wouldn't go along with your treachery, he would have gladly killed me. You know how it is in this world, kill or be killed. You taught me that. Suddenly you're going to be offended that it was used against you?"

They'd ended up standing, facing each other, breathing hard in the emotions and adrenaline of the standoff. She wasn't going to go down without a fight; she wasn't going to go down as a meek mouse. Taking a deep breath, she suddenly raised the flashlight and trained it in her former mentor's eyes, hoping to blind him. She threw the flashlight, and dove to the right, sliding along the hardwood floor before scrambling behind the chair while the world exploded in her wake.

One of the things Elizabeth Webber hated most was an unsolved mystery. It was what made her such a dogged investigator, she dug until there was simply no place else to go and either she found the truth, or she remained haunted about the unknown. She liked mystery novels because the ending revealed everything, she liked catching the bad guys because she unraveled a real-life mystery, and so she hated when she couldn't solve a case, when the unknown would keep pricking at the back of her mind. It had happened to her, she knew that was simply the way things worked, but she hated it when it did.

So, when she herself became part of an unsolved mystery...she really didn't like it. She never figured out how Jason Morgan came to her rescue. How he had come to be in her out of the way hideout, saving her life from Luke Spencer's quest for revenge. What had tipped him off? What had made him suspect, or know, that Luke had found her and that she was in danger? He never told her, that annoying tight-lipped quality of his had kicked into high gear and he refused to answer her questions. He merely said that he was glad she was alive, that she was safe, but never told her how exactly it was that he had happened to be in the right place at the right time. And it annoyed her.

When she'd dove behind the chair in her living room and kept as low as possible to the ground, she fully expected to feel the bite of lead as it entered her body. Luke wouldn't be distracted, or stopped, for long by the flashlight she threw at him, but she had to do something. She wasn't going to go down without a fight, and she'd hoped that in a dark room, in a strange house, she might have a slight advantage and at least be able to get to her weapon and even out the odds a bit. Gunfire had erupted after her immediately, but it wasn't until later, as Jason found her crouched on the floor with her gun out before her ready to shoot until he'd identified himself, that she realized that part of the deafening noise in the room had been the crash of the door as he and Robert had kicked it open and then their guns had added to the noise and melee that Luke's had already created.

Luke Spencer was dead. Dead beyond a doubt. The body had been recovered and it was hard to say whether the three bullets to his heart or the two bullets between the eyes had been the fatal shot. Of course, if he hadn't died instantly, he probably would have bled to death from the bullet that nicked his femoral artery, or maybe from the one that pierced his lung. As much as it saddened her, she realized that she only mourned for the memory of the man, and not the person who just moments before would have gladly killed her. Kill or be killed. Luke had taught her that, among other things in her early days of training with the Bureau. Every time she went on an assignment she knew that it might come down to that in order to save her life, and considering the people she was going up against, she'd never had a particularly hard time sleeping at night after a fire fight. She had been trained well.

But this hadn't been an assignment, and the man lying dead on her floor, staring up lifelessly in an eerie parallel to his son's demise, hadn't been a face in a dossier she'd memorized before heading out into the field. She'd laughed with this man, she'd cried with this man, she'd sat down at his table and broken bread with him and his family, and he'd tried to kill her. Had perceived her as his enemy and turned on her and everything she had been trained to regard. It was a hard pill to swallow.

And yet, when Robert had entered her hospital room after she'd been patched up for minor scrapes and a flesh wound from one of Luke's bullets and tried to make her feel better, she told him she was fine. And she hadn't been lying. Luke wasn't the person she'd thought he was, and in the time that it had taken the doctor to give her several stitches and tell her how to keep the wound clean and dry, she'd made her peace with the situation. She'd shed a few tears, she sighed for the loss of the ideal, and she was ready to move on. Luke had been corrupted by the power he'd fought against, justice had prevailed, she was alive, and it was time to move on and figure out what to do with her life.

That was the thought that gave her pause and scared her. What was she going to do now that she no longer worked for the WSB? While Robert had once again, predictably, tried to talk her out of resigning, she remained firm. While Johnny and Max had been thrilled when they found out she was alive, she'd gotten a guarded response from other agents. It was like she'd told Morgan and Scorpio; there would always be people who would view her association with Spencer as suspect and she'd be tainted and she wasn't going to work in those conditions.

But she was having a hard time trying to come up with a new line of work. Robert had finagled some hazard pay for her so she wasn't exactly hurt for cash at the moment, but she hated being idle. She liked being productive, knowing at the end of the day she was making a contribution. Sitting around in a hospital bed, or then in Johnny's spare bedroom doing nothing but knitting and watching TV wasn't being productive.

It also did nothing to ease the loneliness she realized one night had gripped her as she'd been caught off guard by Max mentioning that Jason had left Port Charles on a new assignment. He'd visited her in the hospital before they'd transferred her back to the States, had helped debrief her and close out the file on Luke and Lucky Spencer and filled her in on what had happened to Sonny Corinthos and Lorenzo Alcazar. But he'd been busy wrapping up everything, and she saw more of Robert than she did him. And she told herself she was okay with that because when everything settled down, then she'd be able to see more of Morgan, talk to him, thank him - again - for everything that he'd done for her. But he never came, and she didn't want to act like she was waiting for that, so she'd never asked.

Yet, finding out he'd left town and hadn't said anything to her had oddly stung. She told herself it shouldn't. It wasn't like they were friends, they were co-workers. Sure, they'd spent days on end together; just the two of them, but that was due to the circumstances of the case. They were on the run, she'd saved his life, he'd saved hers, they were comrades in arms, not buds who went out for a drink. So why should he have come and said anything to her before he'd taken his next assignment? He was one of the rising stars of the Bureau, a trouble shooter who was given the important and sensitive cases. Elizabeth knew that meant he would have to travel, roaming the globe and from everything she'd observed of Jason Morgan and come to find out about him, he probably preferred that. She suspected that being assigned to one place, tied down too long in place would drive him crazy. He hadn't handled being confined to a safe house very well, how would he survive being in one city for months or years on end.

He probably couldn't wait to get out of Port Charles and so he'd left without a look back, especially since Robert Spencer had left shortly after his protégé. Yet, Elizabeth couldn't deny - at least to herself even if she did to everyone else - that she missed him. Once she realized why he was being so gruff and hard-nosed to her, she'd come to grudgingly respect the man, and then even began to admire him. Just a bit. It wasn't hero worship, and it certainly wasn't a ridiculous crush, but she enjoyed talking to him. Even if he didn't say much in return. What he did say was meaningful, and it gave her things to think about, and she enjoyed the mental stimulus that came from their talks. Somehow, she'd gotten it into her mind that he would be around for her to talk to, to bounce ideas off as she tried to figure out what she was going to do with the rest of her life. She knew that while he wouldn't tell her what to do, he would give her some sage advice and simply by letting her ramble, or saying a few well-chosen words would help her discover where she'd be happy. She felt oddly cheated that she wasn't going to have that.

She was pulled from her self-pitying thoughts by the loud, exuberant bang of the front door and her roommate and friend calling for her. Slowly, she walked down the hall where she met Johnny and Max standing in the living room, grinning like kids who were told Christmas came early. It made her feel out of place in her gray sweatpants and black sweatshirt, the same outfit she'd been wearing for weeks as she first recuperated and then tried to figure out what she was going to do.

"Lizzie, great, you're here," Johnny grinned.

"Where else would I be?" she shrugged at him.

Max frowned and took a step towards her. "You okay, Liz? You've been..."

"Moping," Johnny said bluntly. "For weeks. That ain't like you."

"I'm fine," she tried to assure them, but feeling that her smile didn't quite convince them.

"You sure?" the Irishman asked. "You look like someone kicked your cat. Ever since Scorpio left-"

Her eyes widened and she felt her cheeks grow slightly warm, but Johnny didn't seem to notice; he kept right on rambling.

"Do you regret you quit the Bureau?"

"No," she shook her head. "I miss it, I suppose...and I'm wondering what I'm going to do that won't require putting on a polyester uniform and walking the mall. That's all."

"You sure?" he pressed and she was relieved when Max came to her rescue.

"She's sure," the Italian biffed the other man on the shoulder. "Back off, O'Brien. Liz knows what she's doing."

"Except for a job," Johnny pointed out.

"Right," Elizabeth nodded. "Except for a job."

"Well, then, we're here to help," he smiled at her.

She arched her brow slightly; giving him permission to launch into a planned speech he and Max had obviously given much thought to and had been practicing. She was actually surprised at the thought they'd given to it, and how it seemed to be the perfect answer to her problem. And as Johnny smiled at her enthusiastically she wondered why she hadn't thought of it before. As Jason once told her when they were on the run and she was over thinking a problem only to have him come in and effectively solve it, a solution didn't have to be complicated.

She sighed; even now she couldn't seem to stop thinking of him. She was pathetic. He'd left, hadn't given her a second thought before taking off on the next mission, so why was she stuck in place?

Max tilted his head, "You sure you're okay, Liz? That was a heavy sigh."

"Yeah," she smiled, leaning into his side as he wrapped an arm around her. "I'm just thinking that I have great friends, and that this is the answer to my problems."

"Really?" Johnny asked, looking mildly surprised. "We thought we'd have a harder time convincing you."

"No need to do the hard sell, John. I think it sounds like just what I was looking for." The thing was, she really meant it. She wasn't just trying to ease their minds.

"Great," he smiled. "I'm going to go make some calls; I think I found the perfect place to set it up."

He rushed off and Elizabeth tried to straighten, put some distance between herself and Max's questioning eyes. But he didn't let her go and she resigned herself to whatever interrogation he was preparing. "He wanted to say goodbye."

She looked at the doorway into Johnny's office where her friend had disappeared and then looked up at Max. "Johnny?"

"Morgan," he shook his head. "Before he left, he wanted to say goodbye. But the Bureau was going to lose their window of opportunity if he didn't leave right away and so he had to go."

This time Max let her go when she struggled to push away. "I don't know what you're talking about."

She was being deliberately obtuse, but she didn't want to discuss Jason with Max, and she certainly didn't want anyone to think she was pining over him. Because she wasn't. Not at all. He hadn't seen her off to the airport before she went into hiding, she was alone for months and she was perfectly fine. Perfectly. Just because he left without saying goodbye, or anything to her, didn't mean she was moping around because of him.

Max walked up to her, placing his hands on her shoulder and looked her dead in the eyes. "You're lying to me, I don't mind that. But stop lying to yourself, Elizabeth. And despite what you think...it is okay to miss the guy. For what it's worth, if ever I thought two agents could have made a relationship work...it would have been you and Morgan. I'm sorry that he hurt you."

Of all the places he thought he'd find Elizabeth Webber, this hadn't been it. When he'd found out from Robert that she, Max and Johnny had opened a personal security business and that they not only provided analysis and plans for business and building security, but that they personally guarded people, he'd envisioned...something completely different. He'd pictured her more in a position like she'd held for Jasper Jacks, a high end hotel or casino, maybe a white collar business with private jets, chandeliers and caviar. He didn't expect to find her in some third world country, a machete strapped to her side as she escorted some city slicker doctor with a heart of gold complex into the jungle to do his feel good charity work for a year.

It had all started innocuously enough. Jason had been down in a South American cesspool chasing after a criminal the WSB had been tracking for months. When he finally caught the worthless piece of garbage and delivered him to his handler, Robert had greeted him with an odd twinkle in his pale blue eyes. And then he told him that Elizabeth was in the country as well, just over the mountain in fact.

Jason knew what was just over the mountain, and it certainly wasn't a city international travelers went to for a taste of the local flavor. In fact, it wasn't even a village the locals wanted to pass through on their way to someplace better. And all he could think about was what in the world she was doing down here. She should have been in some glamorous city, draped in a designer dressed that hugged every one of her impressive curves, sipping champagne while she kept some businessman who had his head in the clouds instead of in reality keep out of harm. He wouldn't have been surprised if she'd gone back to work for Jax, had been impressed when she'd opened her own business, but now he was just stunned. Didn't she know how dangerous it was down here? Why hadn't Max or Johnny pulled this assignment and insisted she take something where she wouldn't be sleeping on a mattress with more vermin than straw and eating boiled beetles the indigenous people considered a delicacy?

So when Robert had informed him that he had to take some time off - stupid WSB rule that some pencil pushing geek came up with, no doubt - he'd hitched a ride on a bus next to a woman carrying a chicken and went to track Elizabeth down. If she was going to insist on keeping some idiot out of danger, then he would make sure she was out of danger as well. He owed it to her, he told himself. She'd saved his life, after all, and then he'd sent her to a place where Luke Spencer had been able to track her down and nearly kill her. It was just the decent thing to do, to look after her. He'd do it for any of his fellow agents, or former agents. There was no reason to read anything into it as he was sure Robert was doing behind his smirk he couldn't quite hide.

Except that when he saw her, every reason, every excuse he gave himself flew out the window. She was there, and she was still as gorgeous as ever. Her tank top that may have been white at one point showed off her perfectly toned, and tanned arms, and just the slightest hint of cleavage to entice and get his imagination to kick into overdrive. Her khaki cargo pants were lose and covered her legs he'd always found himself staring at, but there was no denying the trim pinch of her waist nor could he stop from wondering if he could span it with both hands. He didn't even mind the heavy belt that held the machete to her side, because it conveyed her strength, her daring and he had no doubt that she wielded it perfectly. He found it incredibly sexy and an amazing turn-on.

He'd come upon the village and stayed in the outskirts, concealed by the vegetation, watching and analyzing the situation. The doctor appeared to be giving vaccinations, treating the people, even performing delicate surgery under the crudest conditions, before they'd pack up and move onto the next village. And she was his protection. A little slip of a woman, but he had no doubt she was performing the job admirably. It only made him want her all the more and curse himself for being too much of a coward and taking the easy way out by rushing off to save the world once again instead of talking to her and saying good-bye.

He was so involved in his self-castigation of being a spineless idiot when it came to her that he nearly missed the presence approaching him. He heard the thick underbrush whisper a second before the metal point of the blade slipped under his chin, the point pushing in the skin ever-so-slightly. And without even looking, he knew it was her. Even in the middle of the jungle, he could smell it was her.

"Morgan, what are you doing here?" Her voice was hard, cold, detached; just like it had been when he first came to town and rode her case like an over-bearing jerk because he had to force himself to remember that she was potentially the enemy instead of one of the most beautiful women he'd ever laid eyes on.

"I heard you were in the neighborhood and I thought I'd stop by to say hello."

She scoffed, or maybe it was a snort, and moved the machete away, angrily slicing it through a plant before wiping it off on her pant leg and sliding it into the leather sheath at her side. "Right. Why don't you try again and this time tell me the truth? Is one of the locals a warlord in hiding, or is Dr. Drake really Dr. No and you've come to arrest him?"

He turned and took in the way her arms were crossed defensively in front of her and swallowed roughly because the move emphasized the already enticing cleavage. But it was her eyes that let him know that she was more than just a little upset. They flashed danger as clearly as the final seconds counting down on a bomb. He had a suspicion of why she might be mad, but he'd learned not to assume things with Elizabeth Webber and starting now wouldn't be the smartest move he could make.

"No," he shook his head, trying really hard to keep his gaze on her face, but that was distracting because then all he could think about were her lips he wanted to kiss. "I...I actually came to see you."

"Me?" One brow arched towards her hairline and her face conveyed her skepticism.

"Yes."

"Why?" she tossed the grenade out there, letting it fall into his hands. "I mean, why now? You certainly didn't come see me before sending me off into hiding, and you definitely didn't come see me after I got out of the hospital before you disappeared for months. So, why now? Why come all the way down to South America to see me?"

"I finished up an assignment," he told her truthfully. "And when Robert told me you were here, I decided to take my imposed time off and come see you, instead of going back to my apartment and counting down the days until I could work again. The truth is, Elizabeth, is I missed you. I wanted to see you before I left but I...I had a job to do and I had to focus. I couldn't have just stopped in for a minute to say hi and good-bye all in the same breath, plus...I needed to focus."

That seemed to make her pause and she regarded him for a moment. "Focus. Are you saying that I break your focus?"

"I'm saying you would have that day. Do you know what it was like to realize that the trail I was tracing on Luke was leading right to where you hiding? To know that I hadn't hid you well enough and that you could be in danger? So I raced there and I found out I almost got there too late; I felt like I'd failed you. And then suddenly the Bureau told me I had to go and I knew that I couldn't talk to you like I'd wanted to, so...I didn't come."

Her eyes narrowed, and he could see the slight confusion on her face as she seemed to be processing, sifting through all he said and didn't say. He wanted to tell her more, to tell her that he'd come to care for her, not just as a fellow agent, or maybe even just a friend, but he couldn't seem to find the words, not in the face of her still simmering anger. And maybe it wasn't the right time to say it today. He planned on spending his time off by her side, they'd be able to talk, to get back to the comfort level they had before, and then, when she'd hopefully be more receptive...then he'd tell her.

"Look," she said, her voice still challenging, "I don't know what game you're playing here."

"It's not a game," he told her truthfully and earnestly. "I missed you. I...I've thought about you. And when I heard you were just a mountain range away...well it seemed like fate was giving me a sign and a perfect opportunity."

"I'm working here," she told him, stepping back and distancing herself from him physically and emotionally. "I have a job to do, and I can't have you distracting me from it."

He grinned at her, "So you're saying I'm a distraction?"

"Don't flatter yourself. If anything, you're an annoyance. A pest. One of those big mosquitoes I either smack with my hand or drown in bug spray."

He nodded slowly, trying hard not to smirk as she worked hard to feign indifference towards him and masking it behind thinly concealed anger. "Right. A pest."

"Glad we understand each other. So, thanks for stopping by, but you can go now. After all, if you were just in the neighborhood, it won't be that hard to keep on moving through."

She was trying to dismiss him, sniffing at just the right moment, but he wasn't buying it. She'd thought about him, just like he'd thought about her. He knew. And now that they were stuck in a jungle with nowhere to go, no rooms to escape into, no distractions of modern civilization, he wasn't going anywhere.

"Elizabeth?"

They both turned at the sound of her name being called, and moments later the interloping doctor pushed himself noisily through the underbrush to come to stop by Elizabeth's side. He paused for a moment, then looked at Jason, then Elizabeth and finally back to Jason.

"Uh, hi," he grinned, in a move Jason was sure just made women swoon, but only made Jason narrow his eyes at him. "Patrick Drake. And you are?"

"Jason Morgan," he said, taking the outstretched hand and shaking it, tightly. The doctor grimaced slightly at the pressure, but didn't yank his hand away. Oh yeah, this guy was cocky, too much for his own good.

"Oh give it a rest, Morgan," Elizabeth sighed. "Don't go crushing Patrick's hand, he has to do surgery, you know."

"So...I take it you know each other?" Dr. Drake asked Elizabeth. Jason didn't like the familiar tone of voice, or the way the doctor stood too close to Elizabeth. Who exactly was guarding whose body?

"We used to work together," Elizabeth said, a dismissive wave of her hand accompanying the statement.

"I heard she was in the area and I thought I'd look her up," Jason said. "Offer my services."

Elizabeth glared at him, and then smiled overly sweet. "That's really not necessary. I've got everything under control here."

"Well, if Elizabeth says she has it under control," Drake said as he put his hand on her shoulder causing Jason to contemplate the ways he could rip the good doctor's arm off, "then that's good enough for me. I have the utmost faith in her."

"I do too," he said, looking at Elizabeth and ignoring the smarmy man beside her. "But it never hurts to have back-up. Besides…you never know when one of the local warlords will suddenly decide to rampage or Dr. No will show up."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, but then a slow grin crossed her face. "So...you're here to offer your services? Meaning, you'd work for me?"

Something told him that agreeing to that statement could be dangerous, but Jason had never backed down from a dangerous situation before. So, he met her challenge and stepped forward, "Just tell me what to do, Boss."

Elizabeth Webber was an unforgiving task master. She also had a memory like an elephant. Every petty thing that he ever rode her case for, she was repaying him in kind. Plus interest. Jason knew what she was doing. She was planning on making his life miserable in the hopes that he'd give up and walk away. She'd been hurt by the way he just left town, and she was getting even. While a part of him thought it was petty, the part of him that was in love with her understood her reaction and was willing to put up with it. But only to a certain point.

So he endured several days where the only real time she spoke to him was to order him around. He put up with her making him the grunt of the operation, carrying the majority of the equipment, sticking him with menial and sometimes disgusting assignments. He did them, he excelled at them, and he never once complained or let her know that he was anything but professional. He was pretty sure he was getting to her because after several days she began adding 'please' and 'thank you' to her orders that were becoming more like requests. She didn't walk away immediately, and her guard was ever-so-slowly dropping around him.

It left Jason feeling slightly hopeful. Except for the fly in the ointment. Patrick Drake.

The good doctor was constantly around. Constantly drawing attention to himself, calling Elizabeth away, always needing her. Jason was glad to have at least realized that Elizabeth wasn't sleeping with the man, but it certainly wasn't from lack of Drake trying. She seemed to have the flirt's number, she's smile with a mixture of sweetness and disgust, roll her eyes and walk away while calling him a dog, and she was keeping an emotional distance from him. She was also adding in a physical distance as much as she could considering she was being paid to ensure the do-gooder's safety. Jason always knew she was a smart woman and she was too smart to fall for the doctor's cheesy pick up lines.

However, Patrick Drake was also a smart man and he knew the lay of the land. He knew that Jason liked Elizabeth and wanted to spend time with her, and he was doing everything in his power to prevent such action from occurring. Any time that Jason got a few moments with Elizabeth and was quietly talking to her, any time that Elizabeth began to smile just a bit, and maybe even begin to laugh with Jason, Patrick would pop up like a bad penny and spoil the whole thing. He would suddenly need to talk to his employee about the safest way to travel to the next village, or he would need to use her as his temporary assistant. He never needed Jason's assistance; Jason was always dismissed.

Elizabeth seemed to be getting frustrated with the whole situation as well, but she was trying to be diplomatic about it. Just today she'd actually rolled her eyes in annoyance and huffed quietly in frustration when Patrick, once again with unerring timing, interrupted what was quickly escalating from quiet talk to awareness of the other person complete with lingering glances. Jason had unconsciously leaned in towards her, especially when her small tongue darted out to moisten her plump lips, and just when he was about to throw caution to the wind and try to capture the lips that had been haunting him for days, Patrick's voice was heard and they both jolted, pulling back and sitting a respectable distance apart when Drake entered the hut with some flimsy excuse to spend time with Elizabeth.

Jason didn't want respectable distances. He was closeness. And most of all, he wanted the good doctor to be unconscious for several hours so that he could achieve his goal with Elizabeth. If it didn't happen soon, Jason was going to use knock out drops in the doctor's water one night at dinner.

Alone because Elizabeth was off talking to Patrick, Jason decided to at least earn his keep and patrol the area, speak to the natives and make sure that they'd be secure in the village for the night. He slowly strolled down the dusty 'road' in the middle of the collection of huts and listened as the women conversed while fixing the evening meal and the men sat inspecting and fixing their weapons for the morning's hunt. He passed the elderly men and women and gave them a respectful nod of his head, then turned to walk towards the leader's hut. However, he stopped when he heard loud voices that he immediately recognized.

"I want you to fire him." Seems the good doctor was a might angry.

Elizabeth, however, was never a person that liked being told what to do, and this time wasn't proving to be that much different. "No."

"Do I need to remind you, Miss Webber, that I'm writing your paycheck?"

"Not at all," she replied, just enough sweetness in her voice to not be entirely lethal. "But you're not paying his. As it stated in the contract you signed before we started out on this little adventure, I have sole discretionary power to hire whomever I see fit while in the field to assist in securing your safety. It's a deal breaker and if you don't like the person I hired, I can just pack up me, my equipment and your safety, and leave you here to finish out your charity work."

"You do realize that Morgan's just trying to get in your pants," Drake stated with disdain.

"Oh, are you jealous of the competition?" Elizabeth asked. "You've been trying to get into my pants since the first time you walked into my office. Don't tell me you're offended on my behalf."

Jason smirked to himself. Elizabeth definitely had the doctor's number and she called him on it clearly. The other man knew it and he grumbled something Jason couldn't make out, but it caused Elizabeth to laugh.

"Jealously doesn't become you, Patrick. You're bent out of shape because you're afraid Jason just might succeed where you failed."

His eyebrows rose as Jason heard that little nugget. So, he had a chance of succeeding? Or was it merely that anyone else had a chance of succeeding where Drake had failed? Until he heard otherwise, he was choosing to believe the first one.

Then Elizabeth disarmed the whole situation by laughing lightly and stating, "Come on, Patrick. It's a moot point anyways, because I know you're not really that jealous. You just like the thrill of the chase, the game you always play. You're not really expecting to be victorious in your seduction attempts, because you know your girlfriend back home would castrate you. And considering Robin's a doctor, I don't think that was an empty threat she made at the airport."

There was a low, resigned grumble from the doctor and then the unmistakable sound of his heavy feet shuffling off through the dirt. Jason stood out of sight, his good mood threatening to become euphoric until Elizabeth's clear voice called out, "Morgan, don't you know it's impolite to eavesdrop?"

He wondered if he should attempt to deny it, but in the end he stepped out of the shadows and walked towards Elizabeth, unabashed and unrepentant that she'd caught him. He'd expected her to be angry, but instead she was shaking her head.

"How much did you hear?"

"From where he wanted you to fire me on."

"Then you didn't miss much," she shrugged, turning and walking in the opposite direction Drake had gone. He fell into step beside her. "First it was a bunch of flirting, and then he issued his demand. You came in at the good part."

"Why do you put up with him?" Jason asked.

She shrugged. "It's a job, and I can handle him. I'm not helpless and can actually defend myself, you know?"

With her black belts in several martial arts, yes, he did know. But he wondered why she put up with someone who clearly didn't respect her. "No, why do you let him talk to you like that, especially if he's got a girlfriend?"

"Because that's just the way Patrick is," she shrugged. "Johnny and Max didn't want to take this job, and they especially didn't want to let me take this job. But I told them that I refused to let some guy keep me from working, and in the end, they agreed with me. I can handle anything that comes my way, even a chauvinistic doctor who flirts with me relentlessly. I don't care what he says, because I'm not interested in him."

He already knew that from overhearing their conversation, but still, a part of him was pleased that she made that admission to him.

She paused and turned to look at him, her deep blue eyes searching his. "You aren't going to ask, are you?"

"Ask what?"

"Patrick would have jumped all over my statement, but you..."

"I hope you're not saying I should be more like Drake," he growled at her with just a hint of a smile.

Her smile was coy and disarming when she shook her head at him. "I'd shoot you if you were like him. But...aren't you curious?"

He tipped his head to the side, "Curious about what?"

She huffed and turned to walk away. "Forget it. Clearly you don't want to know."

He let her get two paces away before he was right beside her, his hand gently on her arm, stopping her from leaving. "Alright, I'll ask. If you're not interested in Patrick Drake, then who are you interested in?"

"Forget it," she shook her head. "You had your chance."

Once again, she turned to walk away, and this time he let her get four paces away before he caught up to her and stopped her. All the while they were getting closer to the jungle and the cover of the trees.

"Petulance doesn't become you, Webber," he lied. Petulance became her very well. The cute little way she rolled her eyes, almost completely hiding the twinkle in them, the slight pout of her plump lower lip that made him want to suck it into his mouth and kiss away, the way her hair flipped over her shoulders when she tossed her head; it all became her very well.

"Are you saying I'm acting like a child?" she challenged, once again yanking her arm out from his grip and walking away.

This time he let her get to the edge of the trees before going after her. But instead of stopping her this time, he took hold of her arm and pulled her along with him, not stopping until they were well concealed. Hopefully Drake would stay gone long enough in his tantrum to allow them some uninterrupted moments.

"There is nothing childish about you, Elizabeth," he said as he turned to face her. "So, I'll ask you again: who are you interested in?"

"If you don't know," she smirked at him, still playing the game they'd inadvertently started, "then the WSB should re-evaluate your intelligence profile.

"I have my suspicions," he said, "but I want to hear it from you. From your perfect mouth."

"You like my mouth?" she asked with a grin. "What else do you like?"

"Not until you tell me."

"You," she finally admitted, her voice low. "Nobody, not just Patrick, wouldn't stand a chance because I'm only interested in you."

"Good girl," he murmured against her lips, finally giving them what they'd both been hoping for.

He didn't know how long they stood there, or more precisely stood leaning against the tree he'd propped them up against, but real life eventually intruded upon them. Once again, in the name of Patrick Drake. His voice could be heard calling for Elizabeth, but this time, she ignored him.

"Forget him," she shook her head. "I've waited too long for this. I've been waiting for you to do this since I woke up in the hospital after you saved me from Luke."

"Funny," he chuckled. "I've been wanting to do this since I woke up in your hide out after I was shot."

Her eyes widened slightly. "That long?"

"What can I say? I've always had a thing for nurses, and even though you were exhausted by days of hardly any sleep, you were still the most beautiful nurse I've ever had."

"Elizabeth?!"

This time Patrick's voice couldn't be ignored. He was getting more impatient, and closer, and Elizabeth reluctantly pulled back. "This isn't over, Morgan."

"I know," he told her.

"I better go find out what he wants. Probably saw a snake slither past his hut and wants me to protect him."

She started to step away, but he pulled her back for one more kiss. When they pulled back, breathless and disheveled, he leaned down to whisper, "If he keeps annoying you, I have some knock-out drops you can borrow."

Elizabeth stepped off the plane, ignoring the jealous looks she got from her fellow passengers returning from snow-bound places like Deluth and Rochester as they stared enviously at her South American produced tan, and looked around for her ride. When she saw Johnny and Max standing by the luggage carousel, she wondered who was minding the office or how they were earning any money if Max wasn't on the job, but then she decided she didn't care. She squealed with glee at seeing her two friends and ran towards them, her carry-on bag flopping against her shoulder, her sunglasses slipping off her head and clattering to the floor behind her. She let herself be swept up and crushed in a massive hug between them as they welcomed her home.

After three months in a jungle, sweating during a record-breaking summer scorcher, she was glad to be home. And she was a bit glad to have a few more weeks of winter before spring came. A Port Charles winter was actually looking nice right now. Or maybe it was just because she was so happy that she didn't care what the weather outside was like.

"Look at you," Johnny said as he finally stepped back. "What do you know, you can tan. You don't glow anymore."

"At least not from being pale anymore," Max teased. "But she's still glowing. Have you ever seen such a smile, John?"

"Only from Miss America," he retorted as he slipped Elizabeth's bag off her shoulder and slung his arm around her. "What's up, Liz? You looked downright miserable when you took off three months ago. Moping around eating ice cream while you watched sappy romance movies, turning down all my attempts to fix you up. Now you're as giddy as a girl who was asked to prom by the star quarterback."

He suddenly stopped and turned to face her, ignoring the grumbles and glares they got from passengers who were forced to go around them on the way to collect their luggage. "That's it, isn't it? You..."

He trailed off and studied her, "You got lucky. You were down in South America and you got la-"

She clapped a hand over his mouth. "Children in the room," she chided.

Abruptly he stepped back and looked at her, disgust suddenly clear on his face. "Oh please tell me you didn't... You didn't sleep with Doctor Drake did you?"

She recoiled from him, her face morphing into disgust as well. "Oh, ewww. No. What do you...do you think I'm an idiot?"

"Okay, if it wasn't Drake, and thank goodness for that, then who was it?" he challenged. "Because you aren't going to try to deny that you did meet someone and had a little rumble in the jungle, are you?"

"No," she admitted, her grin once again breaking across her face.

"Who was it, Liz?" Johnny pestered once again.

Then Max spoke, "Were you careful?"

She rolled her eyes, "Yes, Dad, I was careful. Sheesh, both of you apparently think that I'm stupid and I can't take care of myself."

"It's not that," he said, his voice low and sincere. "It's just that...well, you were kinda upset, depressed, before you left. And I just want to make sure you didn't do something stupid, that you'll regret."

"I could never regret what happened," she told him with all honesty. She knew he had suspected she was hurting over Jason, that she was depressed he had left and that she had feelings for the agent. She knew what Max was trying to say without alerting Johnny to a situation she had never felt comfortable discussing with him. It wasn't that she thought Johnny would tease her about it, although he probably would until he saw that she was sincere in her feelings, but this was just something that she and Max talked about, usually when Max brought it up. Because if it had been up to her, she would have never spoken about her feelings. But that was all about to change.

"Listen," she told them, let's get my luggage and get out of here. There's something I want to discuss with the two of you, something that's going to affect both of you. And standing in the middle of the airport isn't the best place to have this discussion."

"Okay, Liz, what happened?" Johnny asked, as he looked for, located and lifted off her luggage from the carousel. They traveled so often that they could not only identify their own luggage at a glance, but each others as well. "You sure everything's okay?"

"Everything's fine," she told him. "In fact...it's more than fine."

"Would this 'more than fine' have to do with that shiny rock that's on your finger?" Max asked.

She looked down at the platinum band and then up at Max who was regarding her silently, and then over at Johnny who was staring down at her hand with a stunned expression on his face.

"Yeah," she nodded. "I...I got married."

Elizabeth had never suffered such a quiet car ride, especially one with Johnny and Max. They had both seemed stunned by her announcement and nothing more had been said by them as they walked out to the car and left the airport. It wasn't until they were sitting in Max's apartment, "Forget the office, I need a drink" that they spoke.

"You got married?" Johnny asked. "While you were in South America?"

"Yes," she smiled at him.

"You went down to South America on a job, met someone and got married?"

"Actually, I knew him before I left for South America," she corrected.

"And it's not Drake?" he asked desperately.

"No."

John leaned back and threw his hands up in the air. "I give up. I don't understand you, Liz. Normally you're not this quiet; normally you're talking a mile a minute. I swear I'm this close to making sure you're not a robot."

"How did he find you?" Max asked, once again proving to be the calming voice of understanding to her.

"He finished up an assignment in country; Robert told him where I was. I guess he was keeping an eye on me."

"What?" Johnny asked, whipping his gaze from Max to Elizabeth. "Who?"

"So he came over and spent time with you?" Max ignored their other partner.

"The Bureau forced him to take some leave, Robert told him where I was, he came over and freelanced for the job."

Johnny's eyes narrowed and he looked at Elizabeth, "Wait a minute. Are you guys talking about Morgan? Jason Morgan? You married Jason Morgan?"

Her grin threatened to split her face as she nodded. "Yes."

"Are you serious?" he demanded.

"John," Max growled. "Shut up. Were you blind to what was going on around here? She and Morgan went on the run when Lucky came after her, it was Morgan who found the hiding place for her, Morgan who saved her from Luke, and it was because of Morgan she was moping around here for months, even after we started the business."

Johnny softened and turned to look at Elizabeth, peering at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. "You were in love with Morgan?"

"Yes," she confirmed. "Actually, I just missed him back then, I didn't realize what I felt, not 'til later. And then he showed up in the village we were in, and he wanted to shoot Patrick every time he flirted with me, and..." She shrugged, "It happened."

"So you got married?" he asked. "Why?"

"Because it's what people do when they're in love, you idiot," Max rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, but Morgan's an agent and he's gone on assignments all the time," Johnny pointed out. "How's a marriage going to work?"

Elizabeth took a deep breath and said, "Because he's quitting the Bureau and he's moving to Port Charles."

Johnny's eyebrows were in his hair. "He's quitting the Bureau? Why? He's one of their best agents, he's one of their youngest instructors ever...why would he just quit?"

"Oh geeze, were you dropped on your head as a child?" Max shook his head. "He quit because he got married. Because Elizabeth means more to him than his job. He's moving here to be with her."

"Okay," Johnny shrugged after a moment. "But how would that affect us? Liz said she wanted to talk to us because something was going to affect the both of us."

Max peered at the taller man. "Are you really this clueless? Because I wonder. I mean, we're hired because we're supposed to protect people, we're supposed to know what we're doing. How'd you survive in the Bureau being this clueless about human behavior? It affects us because Elizabeth is married. She's not going to want to run off on assignments for three months at a time anymore, she may even one day have babies."

Johnny whipped his head around towards her so fast Elizabeth was afraid it was going to snap off. "Kids?"

"And because her husband is in town, she's going to want to be here," Max stated.

"Are you pregnant, Liz?" Johnny was apparently having a hard time focusing and thinking today.

"No," she huffed at him. She looked at Max and a grin crept up on her face. "But one day...yeah, we want to have children. But that's not really what I wanted to talk to you two about. I don't mind taking assignments still. Granted I don't want to be gone for months at a time, but I'll still take out of town assignments. But I wanted to talk to you guys about Jason. He...he's going to need a job."

"So he comes to work for us," Johnny stated simply. "Heck, we make him a partner. He's former WSB like the rest of us, man knows what he's doing, he's got a name and contacts in the security community and we sure don't want him opening up a rival company. So he joins us."

Maybe Johnny wasn't as slow as she thought he was today. She looked over at Max and lifted a brow in question. "What do you think? I was just going to ask that we hire him. We started this business together; I didn't want you to think that I was trying to force you guys to accept Jason as a partner just because he's my husband."

"Why make him an employee when he can be a co-owner?" Max shrugged his massive shoulders.

"Great," Johnny clapped his hands. Elizabeth would never understand his sudden mood shifts and how he could seem clueless one minute and so put together the next. It was exhausting trying to make sense of him, so they'd learned to just go with the flow. "We'll contact our lawyer and get started on the paperwork. So...when do we get to see our new partner?"

"Next week," she smiled. "He got called a week and a half ago and had one more assignment. He called me this morning and told me they caught the person and as soon as he's done questioning her and does his debriefing with Robert, then he's done."

Johnny nodded and stood, pulling out his cell phone to call Alexis, and Max looked at her, his face slightly solemn. "What?" she asked him.

He shook his head. "Nothing, Liz. I'm just happy for you. Three months ago, you were about as miserable as I've seen you and now you're this side of giddy."

"Feel free to smack me if I cross that line," she smirked at him. "I know it seems sudden-"

"Not really," her friend shook his head. "When you find the right one, what does it matter if it's two weeks or two years? As long as you're happy, then that's all that matters."

When Jason stepped inside the office, Johnny and Max never even acknowledged him. It would have been rather hard to do considering the conversation they were currently having. Skirting the desks, he headed for the office that he and Elizabeth shared and stepped inside. His wife was flipping through a dossier, jotting down notes on her ever-present yellow notepad she did her work on. She looked up as the voices of their partners carried through, and her smile was immediate and bright when he closed the door, muting out their voices.

"You're back," she smiled as she stood to greet him. "How was Belgium?"

"Alright," he shrugged, sliding out of his leather jacket and tossing it towards his chair. "I brought you back some chocolate."

She grinned; her arms winding around his neck as she pulled him close to properly welcome him home. Well, maybe not properly. Properly would come later when they were home, alone, without Frick and Frack arguing outside their door. When they broke apart, several minutes later, her eyes were cloudy as she brought her thumb up to wipe the lip gloss she'd transferred to his lips.

"I would have met you at the airport," she said petulantly at him.

"I know," he nodded. "But traffic is a nightmare this time of the year, everyone's traveling for the holidays and I don't mind picking up my car and driving myself home. Although, if I'd known Cheech and Chong were going to be going at it again, I would have told you come out. What are they arguing about this time?"

"Who's going to escort a client on an out of town assignment," she said as she stepped back and straightened her skirt. He loved it when she wore skirts to the office. He could stare at her legs for hours.

"Business woman need protection?" he smirked, following behind her and sitting on the edge of her desk while she sank down into the plush leather chair she allowed as an indulgent luxury.

Her smirk was evil, not lascivious as his had been. "Nope. Patrick Drake wants to go out on another do-gooder mission. So naturally he called to hire us."

"Naturally." Jason's smile fell off his face, a scowl replacing it. "I'm surprised he didn't ask for you."

"Oh, he did," Elizabeth said as she raised her eyebrow. "But I told him I was unavailable. And it's true. I'm swamped with the building plans for Streiff and I know I wouldn't be able to get them done before the time Patrick wanted to leave. Plus, it would interfere in the Korea job you and I were going to do in two months. So, I told him he would have to use Johnny or Max. Even without the Korean assignment, I knew he'd never hire you."

"As if I'd accept the job," Jason scoffed. After watching the man hit on Elizabeth every day, even after Jason had proposed to her, Jason would just as soon let whatever indigenous tribe wanted to kill him have a free shot.

"There was that little matter as well," his wife chuckled. "So, Johnny and Max are trying to decide who's going to be the unfortunate sap to have to go along."

"And they're, what?" he asked, looking over his shoulder at the door. "The loser is the one who loses his voice first?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I gave up trying to figure out their method after they nearly came to blows over Rock, Paper, Scissors. Apparently Max felt like Johnny was cheating, and Johnny said that if Max felt that way they could always settle it in the boxing ring. The testosterone levels got to be a bit much for me, so I retreated in here. Of course, so far, all I've recommended Mr. Streiff install in his building is a sound proof room and somehow I think he'll wonder what the safety advantage of that is."

Jason stood, grabbed her hands and pulled her out of her seat. "Come on, let's go home. You can work on this from there, and I can help you."

Her eyebrow arched once more, this time with a teasing glint in her eye that usually preceded activities that precluded their business work. "Help me? Is this before or after you drag me off to our bedroom and refuse to let me out of bed for several hours?"

"Hours, sweetheart? I'm thinking we should inform Johnny and Max that we won't be back to the office for at least a couple of days."

She closed up her files and slipped them into her attaché case, then grabbed her jacket. He helped her slip it on, then retrieved his own before holding the door open for her. As they stepped back into the main room, Johnny and Max called a cease fire long enough to look up.

"Jason," Johnny called out. "When'd you get back?"

"About twenty minutes ago," he shook his head. "And now Elizabeth and I are going to go home. We'll probably be working at home for the next couple of days unless you guys need us."

"Nah," he shook his head. "I may do the same. Gotta finish up my Christmas shopping before I take off to see my kid sister and her family. Max can hold down the fort around here, besides, he's got to prepare for his trip after the first of the year."

"Yeah, thanks a heap, O'Brien," Max groused.

"Don't worry, Max," Elizabeth said. "If Patrick gets out of line, just say you saw a snake and you're pretty sure it went into his hut. He'll leave you alone for hours to hunt it out. Then, put the body of a dead one in his bed and he'll get the message. After that, he'll treat you a lot better."

"Is that what you did, Jason?" Max asked, his countenance brightening slightly.

"No," he shook his head. "I threatened to crush every bone in his hands."

The other man smiled, a wicked gleam crossing his face. "Thanks."

"No problem," he shrugged, putting his hand on Elizabeth's back and propelling her towards the door. "See you in a few days."

"I have a present for you."

Jason looked at her, his lips curling into a slow smile. "You mean, there's more?"

She laughed, playfully slapping his shoulder and shook her head. "I'm not talking about that."

"Pity," he murmured, "I rather like that. I'd go away more often if I could have a welcome home like that every time."

"If you went away more often, you wouldn't be able to participate in such welcome home activities because I'd castrate you," she said simply, biting her lip when he blanched. "You're retired from the Bureau now, Jason, and we have two single partners who can take the really long assignments. A month in Belgium just before the holidays...not allowed anymore."

"Oh?" he chuckled. "What are you going to do? Lock me up? Tie me to the bed?"

She rolled her eyes, "One track mind, Morgan."

"You like that about me, Morgan." He smiled at her, then rolled onto his side. "Now I'm curious. How do you plan to stop me?"

"Maybe I can't stop you," she shrugged. "Maybe I'm hoping that you'll want to stick closer to home. Some day we might have a family, do you really want to take off for months at a time then?"

He looked at her, his blue eyes deepening and piercing her in question. "Elizabeth? Are you-"

"No," she shook her head. "I said some day. Do...do you want that? Or is it just..."

"I want children," he quickly assured her, his hand gliding down her side to her waist. "I definitely want that."

She smiled, propping herself up on her elbow to kiss him. "Good. Then you'll understand that taking off for months at a time wouldn't make me happy then."

Jason nodded. "No, I wouldn't do that. I would pass on the long assignments. Maybe...maybe by the time we have children we'll need to hire more employees. Send them off on the long assignments."

"There are definite perks to being the boss," she murmured. "But...you've lost sight of the conversation. Your present."

"It's not Christmas yet," he pointed out.

She rose from the bed and reached for her robe. "So? I didn't want to wait until Christmas; I've got plenty of presents for you under the tree. This...this is for now. So come on."

He groaned and flopped back on the bed. "What?"

"Oh, don't be such a wimp," she teased him. "One would think you've gone soft since quitting the Bureau. I bet you stayed in a five star hotel the entire time in Belgium. What would Robert think?"

"Robert would think that sometimes luxury is okay," he groused as he got up and reached for his pajama bottoms.

"Sure he would," she teased him, her eyes sparkling with mischievous delight. "Admit it; you've gone a little soft."

"Never," he growled as he caught her in the living room, pulling her into his arms for a kiss. "Now, show me this present before I forget all about it and drag you back into the bedroom."

"Later," she promised. "Come with me."

She led him through the house until they stopped at the door to the garage. Turning to him she said, "Close your eyes."

"You bought me a car?" he grinned. "Is that why you wouldn't pull into the garage when we got home?"

"Close your eyes," she repeated.

He complied good-naturedly and she took his hand and opened the door. Once they were inside, the room echoed with the whimpers and barks of his gift and his face wrinkled with confusion for a moment before something close to disbelief crossed it. "Okay," she told him, "open your eyes."

He immediately found the puppy, tied to the corner of his workbench, excitement causing it to hop around. Jason looked at her, "A puppy? You...you bought me a puppy?"

"You told me once that you had a dog like this when you were younger and you always wished you could have another one, but with being in the Bureau it just wasn't feasible. Well," she said, wrapping her arms around him, "you're not in the Bureau any more. You have a home, a big back yard where he can run, and you can train him to be a guard dog when you're gone so you don't have to make Johnny and Max keep coming by to check up on me. And when we have children, he'll be a good pet for them."

"You thought of everything, didn't you?" he asked as he walked towards the puppy, bending down to untie it. It squirmed and jumped all over the place, its oversized paws slipping on the concrete floor.

"Well, those were good points," she conceded. "But mostly, I just remembered the way you looked at the pet shop in the mall when we were there before you left for Belgium. I never figured you for a pet lover, and I just wanted to do something to make you happy."

He turned his face, reaching out to capture her lips in a kiss. "I am," he told her. "And not just 'cause you got me a dog."

"A dog who needs to go outside, I might point out," she grinned. "Remember, it's your pet."

He laughed, and then picked up the puppy to take it outside. "Already gettin' me in trouble with the missus. We'll have to work on that, won't we?"

"You take care of him," she said, tousling the small dog's ear while her other arm wrapped around Jason's waist, "and I'll whip up a little dinner for us. Something we can eat in bed. How does that sound?"

He captured her lips once more, smiling against them as he said, "Perfect."

The End