Chapter Six: Lines In The Sand
outside the Brownstone
Carly burst out laughing, and spun around once, her head thrown back in delight. "All I did was challenge him to play pool," she batted her eyes in exaggerated innocence. "Ned didn't have to take me up on it."
Taggert laughed, slinging his arm causally around Carly's shoulders as they walked towards the Brownstone. He looked down at her knowingly. "Carly, I've known professional hustlers who weren't as smooth as you tonight," he looked down at her with a smile half-approving, half-disbelieving. The approval won out, helped along by the fact that Marcus'd never seen anything more exciting than the sparkle in Carly's eyes. He wasn't going to be the man to put that light out. "You were good," he shook his head once. "You were damn good."
Carly grinned back at him, twirling again on her heels. "I was, wasn't I?" She tossed her hair back, lifting her chin to catch the rare breeze. Despite her minimal little black dress, and white summer wrap, Carly was hot; her cheeks were flushed and her pulse was still racing from dancing and from victory. "Marcus, I'm really bad at a lot of things. Patience, trust, dishes," a quick smile flashed across Carly's face. "But, when id comes to playin' pool, man, there's no one better. And now, Ned Ashton with his superior little smile," her grin widened triumphantly, "knows it."
"Lady, he not only knows it, he's not gonna forget it for a long, looong time," Taggert grinned at her obvious delight. She was like a child, swollen with glee, and it was infectious. The Carly that had danced and played pool and tossed beer back with practiced ease was a woman he'd never met before, other than in brief glimpses but, damn, he liked her. She was -- easier than he'd ever seen her before, freer. And Sonny Corinthos' name hadn't come up once. "The Ashtons' still have some family pride, though; Dara whooped my tail at darts," he shook his head ruefully.
"Aww, poor baby," Carly danced in front of Taggert, walking backwards, so that she could look at him, her eyes dancing, "did you get your pride hurt when big, bad Dara beat you at darts?" Carly laughed, then reached up to pat Taggert's cheek consolingly. "It's okay; you can let little Miss Dara have this one. She's gotta be good at something since she was the worst ADA in Port Charles' history."
"Dara wasn't that bad," Taggert protested. "She just had an incredible string of bad luck."
Carly gave him a look. "Uh-huh. If you say so. You know what? I am in such a good mood, despite Dara Ashton shootin' killer glares at me every time your back was turned, I'm gonna let you have that one, without a fight." She paused, as they reached the steps of the Brownstone, and stepped up on the bottom step so that her eyes met Taggert's. "It was a good night, Marcus," Carly said. "One of the best I've had in a long time. Thank you."
Taggert reached out, almost involuntarily, adjusting her gauzy wrap around her shoulders. His fingers grazed the bare skin of her shoulders, and he swallowed. Hard. "Did I remember to tell you," he said softly, looking into her chocolate brown eyes, "how incredible you look tonight? I really meant to tell you that."
~If you offered me a shade of blue
would I return it saying that it was too
dark or light?
Or would I see it for the precious thing
that it might one day be?~
"Marcus," Carly began, her voice low. Her words trailed off, as Taggert gently tilted his head, brushing his lips across hers lightly, one hand drifting down languidly to rest softly at the small of her back.
He lifted his head just long enough to look in her eyes and see himself reflected there. Marcus lowered his lips to meet Carly's again, still gently, still sweetly, not demanding anything from her except that she be there standing in front of him, and she be who she was.
It was as Marcus' free hand lifted to drift gently into Carly's hair, cradling her cheek lightly that she pulled away. Carly looked back at the man in front of her, the man who was looking at her with only kindness and gentle desire in his eyes, and she shook her head. "I'm sorry," Carly whispered, "Marcus, I'm sorry. I can't."
~If you offered me a point of view
would I dismiss it saying that it was too
black and white?
Or would I see it as the special thing
That it would no doubt be?~
He brushed his thumb tenderly over her cheek once, before sliding his hand smoothly out of the tousled waves of Carly's hair. "It's okay," Taggert said, regret unhidden but not resentful in his tone. "Carly, it's okay. I know that you're still getting over Corinthos. I shouldn't have pushed you."
Carly shook her head. "No, Marcus, it's not that, it's not you. It's me. I knew that you were gonna-- I mean, I wanted you to -- kiss me. I thought I--" Carly broke off, sighing, then closed her eyes. She opened them finally, her voice very soft. "I do this thing. I go, you know, from one man to another, figuring, I guess, that I'm gonna find what I'm lookin' for in the next guy's arms. That I can forget whatever's wrong by finding oblivion in someone's bed. I thought I could just let this be -- that. But," she shook her head again, "I don't want to do that, Marcus. Not anymore. You deserve better than that. I deserve better."
Marcus Taggert was silent, watching Carly. He twisted a loose strand of her hair around his finger, and, finally, smiled. "It is okay," he said softly, loosing her hair gently. "'Cause I'll wait. One of these days, Carly, you're going to look up and figure out that whatever you're looking for isn't in anyone's arms but your own. Patience may not be your strong suit, but it is mine. And, you, Caroline Benson," Taggert spoke her name lightly, "are worth waiting for." He bent down to brush his lips against hers once more, barely making contact. "'Nite, Carly," Marcus murmured softly, before turning and walking away, leaving Carly standing on the steps, a small smile playing about her lips.
~Hold on to me.
Hold on to me.~
Emily's bedroom
Emily's eyes flew open as she turned over on her stomach; she could have sworn she heard something at the window. She sat up, drawing her knees up to her chin and peering hesitantly out into the dark. Emily jumped as the knocking sound came again, then let out a brief sigh of relief as she saw Lucky in the moonlight, perched precariously on the roof overhang outside her window. She slid out of bed, pausing only to pull on the bottom half of a pair of Monica's discarded scrubs and tug her cotton tank top down to meet the pants, before hurrying to the window and throwing it open. "Lucky!" Emily exclaimed, her voice pitched low so as not to wake up Lark. "There are these things called doors, you know! I've even got one."
Lucky paused in the window frame, then slid down into her bedroom. "Sorry, Em," he said, softly, his eyes very large. It was then, belatedly, that Emily noticed how white his face was. And, she knew, immediately, that it wasn't just the moonlight that gave her friend's face that unnatural pallor. "I can go, if you want," Lucky continued, making a motion back towards the window.
"No," Emily grabbed at Lucky's sleeve, and he turned slowly to face her, his eyes haunted and dark. Emily slid her hand up to his cheek, touching him lightly; she had the distinct impression that if she did more than just graze his cheek lightly with her knuckles, he'd run. And, never look back. "No, Lucky," she said again, this time much softer, her voice gentle, "it's okay. Stay. I was just -- a little startled, that's all. But, it's good to see you, Spencer, whenever." Emily smiled lightly at him, even though her heart hurt at the thing that was looking at her out of his eyes.
Lucky ran his hand swiftly through his hair, letting out a short breath, and pacing across her room. "I'm sorry, Em; I just didn't -- I didn't know where else to go. I have these," he looked away from her, "nightmares, sometimes. And, I went to Carly's, hopin' she'd let me crash there, but my cousin wasn't home." He was quiet a long moment. "I couldn't, I couldn't stay at my parents' house. I had to go somewhere. I thought of you," Lucky turned back to Emily. "I really didn't want to be alone, Em," he said softly, his voice breaking her heart.
"Then, I'm glad you came here," Emily said, simply. She paused, then walked over to him, tentatively slipping her hand into his, sensing that he needed to be touched about as much as he was afraid to be touched. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked softly, her voice a soothing whisper.
Lucky shook his head, squeezing her hand lightly without seeming to know he was doing so, then stopped, and really looked at Emily, for maybe the first time that night. "Maybe," he whispered, his voice anything but soothing. "I never, I never remember the dreams, when I wake up. All I can remember is -- the fear," his words came quickly now, almost tumbling over each other as Lucky's grip on Emily's hand became tighter. Emily never pulled away once. He continued to look at her, his eyes locked on hers. "That was the worst part about bein' locked away, you know. It wasn't that I thought I'd never get out; I knew, I knew that sooner or later I would. No cage lasts forever, Em. Except the ones you make yourself. The part that terrified me was that I would forget how to walk out of that cage when the time came, that I'd forget what freedom was." He was silent a long moment, his eyes drifting from Emily's face to the window and the moon behind her, and then back to Emily. "Faison would visit me, every day at first. And, then, the visits got further and further apart, until they just -- stopped. And, I was alone. He told me, when he first took me, that I'd grow to love the sight of him. I laughed in his face. But, in the end," Lucky's voice was barely audible, "it was true. There was a point, right before the end, when I would have done just about anything to see someone human again, even Faison. Anything, Em, anything. I would have done whatever the hell he wanted, whatever he told me, just to have someone -- touch me again. Freedom didn't matter; I would have gladly locked the door myself just for the chance to talk to a human again."
Emily ran her thumb over the back of Lucky's hand, gently, tears pooling in her eyes. "I don't know what to say, Lucky," she whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears. "I want to make it better for you; I wish I knew how to do that. But, I don't. There's nothing I can do to make the pain of what happened to you go away, except," she loosed his hand slowly, then reached up, encircling him with her arms, and hugging him tightly to her, "for this. Lucky, you're free now. And, there are so many people who love you. Me included. When the night gets too dark," Emily pressed her cheek to his, her arms tightly wrapping around his neck, "hold onto that."
~If you offered me a point of view
would I dismiss it saying that it was too
black and white?
Or would I see it as the special thing
That it would no doubt be?
Hold on to me~
"It's what gets me through," Lucky whispered into her hair, his own arms rising slowly to hold her. "Only thing I know that does." He held her tight a moment longer, before letting his arms drop, one hand smoothing her hair tenderly. Lucky let out a long breath. "Thanks Em. For," he gestured at the open window, "lettin' me in. I should probably go, though."
Lucky started to walk towards the window, and Emily caught at his hand. "Lucky? You could -- you know, if you don't want to go back to your house, but you don't want to be alone, you could stay here tonight. If you wanted," she offered, almost shyly.
He paused, looking at her. "I'd like that," Lucky said, finally, before smiling slowly, some of his demons slipping away with the upturn of his lips. "Thank you." He twined his fingers more definitely with Emily's as she returned his smile, both of them starting to feel, for the first time in a very long while, at peace.
~I'll hold on to this gift we share
it is as slippery as it is rare.
I'll hold on to that feeling
of waking and finding you there.
I'll hold on to you and you hold on to me.~
Sonny's penthouse
"Damn!" Sonny threw his pen down impatiently on the desk, striding to the door, and throwing it open. The anger on his face disappeared in an instant when he saw the person standing in his doorway was not, as he'd thought, one of his employees.
"Item number one," Alexis began without preamble, staring at Sonny, her eyes very dark and her face very white, "you work on one side of the law, and I work on the other. And that is not a thing that is going to change. There's a line I will not cross, and there's a line you can't go back over, not anymore." Sonny started to speak, but Alexis continued, overriding him. "Item two: you are still in love with your ex-wife. And, part of the reason, not all of it, but enough of the reason you are pursuing me is to drive Carly out of your mind, just like she's out of your life. I am not willing to--"
"Alexis, what the hell are you doing here?" Sonny cut into her speech, his hand slicing the air between them. His eyes flashed at her, as all the frustration that had been building up in him after staring at papers in his very empty penthouse all evening. "Reciting the reasons you're not goin' to be anything more than my lawyer? Don't bother," he snapped, shaking his head once sharply. "The reasons don't matter; all that matters is that you're gonna turn around and walk into that elevator. And, if that's your choice, then fine. I don't like it, but I can deal with it. What I can't handle is you beatin' this into the ground with logic and reasons that I don't give a damn about!"
Alexis gripped the doorframe tightly with her hand, her knuckles whitening, showing no sign of walking away. "Which brings us to item three," she continued, her voice lowered almost to a whisper. "Despite everything my head, my 'logic," she lifted her eyebrows at him, "says, I can't get your damned eyes out of my head. Or the way it felt," she swallowed hard, "when you kissed me. And so," she spread her hands wide, "I'm here. I don't know why; it doesn't make any sense." Alexis stamped her foot lightly in frustration, and Sonny's dimples flashed into view, briefly. Alexis looked into his eyes for a long moment, finding what she needed there, against all reason and all expectation, and she found herself almost smiling back at him. "So," she let out a long, shuddering breath, biting her bottom lip, "maybe the solution is to let sense and logic and reasons go. And, just -- give into whatever this, this thing between us is." Sonny was definitely smiling now, but he didn't move. This was her move to make.
~If I asked you for this simple thing
would you do it without too much thinking or fuss?
Would you see it for the precious thing
that it would surely be?
Hold on to me.~
Alexis hesitated a long moment, then, her eyes never dropping from Sonny's, she took a step forward, and then another until she was in his arms. Alexis slowly slid her arms up his chest, pausing at the open collar of his shirt, her head tilted towards him, as Sonny's lips lowered until they met hers, her mouth parting slightly under his, one hand clenching at his collar, the other sliding behind his neck to pull him harder against her. Sonny lifted his head, breathless moments later, just long enough to murmur against her mouth, "No going back, Alexis. You sure?"
Alexis looked at him, and suddenly laughed, her fingers fiddling with the buttons of his collar. "No," she said, her eyes sparkling. "Not even a little bit." Alexis ran a single finger down his chest. "So what?" she asked, before pressing up to meet his lips again, kissing him fiercely, her hand sliding inside his shirt to press her palm against his bare chest. "I'm taking a risk," she pulled away briefly to whisper in his ear. "On the off chance that maybe, just maybe, the pay off will be worth it." She looked into his eyes a long, long moment, then smiled, as his arms finally lifted to hold her. "I'm betting that it will."
~Hold onto me.
Hold onto me.~
