Things were better now. Warmer. Almost serene. Dara watched Johnny jab with the poker, positioning the newer logs with the older ones. The fire crackled appreciatively and the portion of the room they were in was bathed in an orange glow.
"What is this?" she asked, holding out her drink.
He turned in his squatting position and looked at her. "Scotch. Old scotch."
"What kind?"
He shrugged, but his gaze remained locked on hers. "I don't know brands. I'm sure I could find out if you wanted to know," he offered.
Suddenly feeling the need to guard herself, Dara shook her head firmly. "No thank you, I was just curious."
Silence filled the room, but it wasn't awkward. Dara continued to sip her drink, letting the liquor swirl around in her mouth before it slid down her throat. Johnny rose from his spot, satisfied that the fire was taken care of. "I'll be right back."
He disappeared in the direction of the kitchen, reappearing a minute later with two water bottles. He held one out to her. "Here, you'll need this."
Dara frowned. "What for?"
Johnny's expression softened, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Her stern suspicion might drive some nuts, but he found himself responding to it, rather than the opposite. "You're on your second and it doesn't take too many to get a bit tipsy. This will help."
Dara took the cool bottle, feeling foolish. "Thanks. I guess it wouldn't be too smart to be seen walking out of here looking like..." she paused, suddenly aware that Johnny was still standing in front of her, hovering. Her head tilted upwards and any other words she was planning on saying died in her throat.
His eyes.
Staring at her, analyzing her, thinking about her, seeing through her. She exhaled slowly, wondering what it was he found so fascinating about her that all he could do was look at her. She wondered why all she could do in response was look back, staring at him, analyzing him, thinking about him and seeing a man she had once quickly and easily labeled as one of Sonny and Jason's many men.
But with every passing moment, that label continued to peel away, leaving something far more complex for her to really see.
He sat down on the coffee table, their knees brushing ever so slightly. Resting his forearms on his thighs, his eyes searched hers. "Looking like what?"
There it was. That hushed, velvety voice of his easily getting past her many personal barriers, imploring her to open up. She blinked heavily, remembering he was asking her to finish her earlier statement. "Umm, well, looking like, well," she stammered, feeling flustered that her train of thought was not on the matter at hand.
"Looking like you should be ashamed?" he supplied.
Dara's averted gaze snapped back into place. "I should be. This is the last place I should be making a social visit to," she bristled. "I'm the A.D.A. and this is Thug Central."
Preparing for an angry retort, Dara's jaw twitched in anticipation.
"You worry too much about what people think of you."
Dara blinked. That was his response? "Excuse me?"
"Over the years, I've found that the first impression is often the strongest and most lasting, no matter how wrong it can be. Why worry about trying to change that? How you handle it is where you should put your energy," he said.
Dara rolled her eyes. "Sure, that's easy for you to say."
"Not really. I have to know exactly what others think of me. If I don't, it makes me weak. If I do, I can handle a potential situation with a clearer mind. But this doesn't mean that I'm going to try and change their minds. I just make sure that they know their place."
"Fear is a pretty big asset in your line of work."
Johnny's green orbs darkened truthfully. "It is the only asset."
Dara contemplated his words. It made sense, in a freaky, twisted way. She'd been in corporate law for a few years before switching when she came to Port Charles. Some of the tactics she'd seen used made her blood run cold. Even now, things in the D.A.'s office often made her wonder who were the good guys and who were the bad ones.
"You wonder how different we really are?"
Dara's cheeks tinged at his probing. He'd obviously been studying her while the wheels of thought turned in her mind. "My job is my life," she replied softly. "What about you?"
A soft laughter echoed in the room. "My life depends on my job."
Dara tilted her head to the side, a sudden sadness filling her. "Is that why Emily doesn't know about you?" She knew she was possibly skating on thin ice, but she sensed that Johnny had told her about Emily for a reason.
Johnny reeled back at her inquiry. He hadn't anticipated this from her. She had always been an alluring mystery to him and even now, she defied his preconceived notions about her. He hadn't really understood why he had told her and he hadn't understood why she had stayed then or why she stayed now. He did know her brown eyes were the most beautiful he had ever seen, next to his daughter, of course. He knew that she exuded a quality he had never seen or felt before, but was drawn to it, in a dizzying, heart pounding way. With a shake of his head, he answered her. "It's never been safe for Emily, just because of Jason. When he continued in this life with her being in his, I went crazy with security precautions. She didn't know it, but our rivals did. If you so much as breathed in her vicinity, the wrath of God himself would seem like a slap on the wrist. All the times she got into trouble with her friends and boyfriends and nobody was doing anything to make her safe," Johnny shook his head, trembling with anger. Feeling restless, he rose and left the warmth of the fire. His spine tingled as he stood near the French doors leading out to the balcony. She was close by.
"You love her so much," Dara softly declared.
Tears pricked his eyes. "So much it hurts to breathe most days," he said in a hoarse whisper. "I don't mind her not knowing about me, not so much anymore. I just want to make sure she's safe and happy."
"You don't think she is?"
"She's with the Quartermaines," he said, his voice full of disdain. "I nearly croaked when I saw them take her in." He shook his head at the memory.
Dara smiled. Johnny sounded so much like a disapproving Father. "They are an interesting brood," she admitted. "But they love her, and they'll always be there for her, like a family," she added.
"I suppose." He wasn't convinced, despite the sincerity in Dara's voice. He wanted to believe her, but something was holding him back.
Sensing his disbelief, Dara pressed him. "What is it?"
Johnny turned and shrugged. "I guess I'll always believe that I could have made her life better, just by being in it. I robbed her of that." He stopped himself, his voice choking with emotion once more.
Dara rushed to him, clutching his hands in hers tightly, forgetting her old worries about being around this kind of man. "No!" she said firmly, her eyes demanding his attention. When his settled on hers, she could see all of his doubt and guilt swirling around uncertainly. "Don't do this to yourself. Don't play a game of what ifs with your life and hers. You did the selfless thing by protecting her. Can you guarantee that she would be alive today if you had stayed in her life as her Father?" Dara searched his face as he remained silent. "Can you say for certain that she would be happy and healthy today if she had grown up with the world knowing she was your daughter?"
Johnny released a shallow breath, but shook his head slowly. "No," he whispered, his eyes filling with tears. Impulsively, Dara slipped her arms around him, and embraced a man she knew little about. But the little she did know spoke volumes to her about him.
The moment was interrupted by a sharp rapping at the door. The two broke apart, startled by the intrusion and Johnny quickly wiped the tears from his eyes. "Is it for you?" he asked quickly as they rushed about the room, gathering all of Dara's things together.
"No, my office knew I was coming by, but I said if anyone needed to reach me, they should call my cell and it hasn't rang since I left the office."
The knock came again, this time more sharp and impatient. "Your car?" he suggested, smoothing his hair back slightly.
"I took a cab."
"Hello!? Jason! Are you in there?"
Both froze. The voice was unmistakable. Dara threw her things into a nearby closet. "I'll be upstairs," she said, squeezing his hand as she passed. Johnny's fingers grasped hers gently and she turned back, watching the link between them remain for a few seconds. "I'll be upstairs," she repeated, letting him go.
Waiting until Dara was out of sight, Johnny took a deep breath. "Emily Quartermaine, Jason's sister and that's it," he muttered to his reflection in the mirror. Opening the door, he watched as she breezed past him, glancing around the room anxiously. "Johnny, do you know where Jason is? It's not like him to be gone for so long without checking in with me. Have you heard from him?"
"No, but I do know he is safe," Johnny responded, his voice clear and strong with no hint of the agonizing feelings that were surging within him.
Emily turned to face him. "He's safe? Well, where is he?"
Johnny's gaze wavered slightly. "I can't say and neither can he, but I assure you that he is well," he said hesitantly.
Emily's confusion was clear as her brow creased with concern. "He's-he's not in any trouble is he?" she asked softly.
Dara's eyes clenched shut as she listened from the staircase, she could feel Johnny's pain without needing to see his face. Downstairs, Johnny's determination wavered as Emily soft brown orbs scrutinized him for the comfort she was seeking.
"He loves you too much to get into any serious trouble," Johnny replied, a slight quiver in his tone. Smiling to compensate, he took a step, and then realized why he had long ago made the decision to never touch her unless he had to. Withdrawing his step, he swallowed hard. If he touched her, his resolve would disappear, leaving them nothing but the truth that she could never know about.
Choosing to believe him, Emily's concern vanished and she smiled, relieved. "Thank you Johnny, I'm glad I came by. I feel better now that I've talked to you."
Johnny nodded. "Rick will drive you home," he managed tightly as she glided past him again. With a grin and a wave, she was gone just as quickly as she had come. Shutting the door, his hand remained pressed against the wood, not ready to let her go just yet.
Dara descended the stairs and crossed the room to him. Tears blurred her vision as she approached him. "Oh, Johnny," she whispered, overcome with emotion. It just wasn't fair. She didn't realize that she was the one whose pain filled sobs echoed the room until Johnny's comforting arms embraced her. When the tears subsided, she shook her head. "What's wrong with me?!" she exclaimed, accepting the handkerchief Johnny handed to her. "She's not my child and here you are comforting me!"
"I've learned to protect myself, to focus my thinking so my emotions don't get involved."
Dara looked at him in disbelief. "You're not very good at it," she replied softly. "At least not to me."
"That's because I told you." A chill ran down Dara's spine, matching the tone in his voice. "You'd be amazed the kind of stuff that slips by when nobody's looking for it."
"Why did you tell me?" she asked, suddenly curious. Out of all the people in the world to divulge such sensitive information to, he picked her?
"Maybe I want someone other than me to know," he answered quickly, moving briskly towards the fireplace.
"Liar." Dara narrowed her eyes, following him.
Johnny let out a chuckle. "You're reading far too much into this," he said dismissively.
Dara bristled at his nonchalance. "Am I? Or are you chickening out?" she questioned brazenly.
Johnny snapped around, his eyes glittering angrily. "Why the hell are you even here? You could have walked out a long time ago."
Dara placed her hands on her hips. "Maybe for the same reason you told me to begin with," she sassed.
"Which is?" He took dangerous steps towards her, the tension between them becoming less about anger and more about arousal. Dara blushed, despite her determination to not let him get the best of her, his close proximity was once again leaving her flustered. Still, she refused to budge from her spot near the mantle.
"Because we wanted to."
"You want to be here? Why?" he asked in a hushed tone, his eyes boring into hers.
"Because you told me about your daughter," she replied in an equally hushed tone.
The fire crackled between them and neither spoke for a few seconds. Were they thinking the same thing? Did they dare even consider it?
"I hate my job," Dara confessed.
"Me too."
They shared a shy smile. And a few nerve wracking moments later, Johnny's hand rose, his fingers gingerly running along the smooth skin he had ached to touch for so long. Dara sucked in her breath, feeling a jolt as his hand grazed past her ear, threading her hair slowly. "I love your eyes," he murmured, closing the gap between them.
"I know." Her reply made his spine tingle and his arm snaked around her waist, pulling her even closer than before. "You do?" his mouth descended, nuzzling her cheek ever so slightly, causing Dara to shiver.
Her hands rested on his abdomen and slowly rose, feeling the hard planes of his chest as they ascended. Twining around his neck, she closed her eyes, feeling his breath against her full lips.
"I always knew."
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