Luke's

"Hi, welcome to open-mic night at Luke's!" LesleyLu smiled brightly, stepping out from behind the hostess stand. She grabbed two menus. "I'm LesleyLu Spencer, and I'll be-- Em!" She exclaimed happily as Emily stepped out behind the couple. "I thought you weren't coming 'til later."

Emily shrugged slightly and grinned at her boyfriend's baby sister. "What can I say?" She rolled her eyes. "I'm hopelessly addicted to this blue-eyed boy who hangs out here." Her grin widened, and she stepped forward and linked her arms with the couple Lu had just greeted. "Lu, this is my brother AJ and his wife Kristina. AJ, Krissy -- LesleyLu Spencer, Lucky's little sister."

AJ took Lu's proffered hand in his. "Bet you're sick and tired of people saying how much you've grown up since they've seen you last." He held his hand at his waist. He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "This high; that's all I'm saying," AJ grinned.

"Ignore my husband," Kristina spoke up. "He likes to think he's funny. We mostly humor him." She took Lu's other hand. "I can't believe it's taken us so long to meet; we're practically family."

"Ooh," Lu squealed happily. "You're Nikky's Aunt Kristina, the one who sings!"

"Right," she smiled. "And speaking of my nephew," Kristina peered into the crowd, "is he here tonight?"

"Not yet; Nik should be here really soon, though." Behind Kristina, Emily stiffened. "But, Alexis and Stefan are here. Alexis was asking for you, earlier." Lu nodded at the bar. "They're over there, talking to my brother."

"Damn," Lucky said, not for the first time. He shook his head, a broad smile on his face. "I just -- it's all my bedtime stories made flesh. You know how many stories Dad told me about you and Robert?"

Anna threw back her head with a rich laugh. "Please," she said, placing her hand over Lucky's, "for the love of all that is holy, don't repeat them! I'm rather wary of Luke's idea of appropriate bedtime material."

"As are we all," Alexis murmured sardonically.

"You know," Anna looked around her, a faint smile on her face, "I think I could have walked into this club in -- in Timbucktu and known it was Luke's. There's just something about it." She trained her smile on Lucky. "You must be very like your father."

"Spencer's taste in decor is indeed ... unique," Stefan offered dryly, his hand resting discreetly on his wife's arm. This venture into the lair of the 'enemy' had been remarkably tension-free, much more so than he had anticipated when Alexis had suggested it.

Lucky shot a glance at Stefan, then smiled wickedly. "Yeah, should've seen the portrait Dad had over there," he nodded at the far wall. "It was, uh, I don't know," he turned to Stefan, his gaze deliberately innocent, "Stefan, you wanna describe it?"

"Stefan!" He was saved having to answer when a flame haired fireball barreled full-speed into his embrace. Stefan rose to prevent the stool from toppling over and caught his baby sister in his arms.

After a brief, hard hug, Stefan shifted, holding Kristina at arms length. He studied her a long moment, then nodded, content. "You seem well, sister." He glanced over her shoulder. "AJ." Stefan nodded at his brother-in-law who returned the acknowledgement quietly.

Kristina looped her arm around Stefan's waist, looking at Alexis with delight. "So this was the big surprise, huh?"

"Half of it," Alexis said, dryly, nodding at Anna, seated at the bar.

Stefan extricated himself from Kristina's grasp gently, moving to take Anna's hand as she rose. He turned her to face the group. "Anna, I would like you to meet my sister, Kristina and her husband, AJ Quartermaine. Kristina, AJ," he gestured with his free hand proudly, "Anna Devane Cassadine. My wife."

"Uncle?" Stefan turned on his heel; the rest of the party soon followed suit. Stefan's eyes closed briefly as Nikolas stepped out of the shadows, his face incredulous. He worked his jaw, his eyes never leaving Stefan's. "Uncle?" Nikolas repeated. "Your what?"

Carly glanced in the rearview mirror, meeting Gia's eyes. "You know, a little enthusiasm wouldn't kill you, Gia."

It might. You don't know."

Carly rolled her eyes and glanced at her husband. "You talk to her," she said, laying a hand on the back of Jax's neck.

Jax looked at Carly, eyes twinkling. "I'm just the chauffeur, love. Me drive, me no talk."

"Coward." She gave his hair a sharp tug and turned around in her seat to face Gia. "Look, you came here to tell him, right? So," Carly shrugged, "you come to his club tonight, you look around, you get to see what kind of man my cousin is. It's all low key and no pressure. And, you don't have to tell him anything tonight. No harm, no foul."

Gia sighed, leaning back into the car seat. "Okay, so it makes sense. Doesn't mean I have to like it."

Carly turned around, satisfied. She pulled a thin tube of lipstick out of her purse, quickly touching up. "Besides, it's a family party, or so says Lucky. You have as much right to be there--"

"Carly!"

"What?" Carly's tone was the essence of wounded innocence.

"You're skipping 'A' through 'Y' and going straight to 'Z'! And, I'm not ready for Z!" Gia gripped the back of Carly's seat as Jax swung into Luke's parking garage. "You promise me you're not gonna do anything stupid or I'm not getting out of this car."

Carly waited until Jax parked, then released her seat belt, getting out without a word. She stuck her head back in the door a moment later and smiled with saccharine sweetness at Gia. "I'm not about to make any promises 'cept this one -- you don't get out of that car and meet me inside in five minutes, stupid's not gonna begin to cover it, babe." She blew her friend an airy kiss and backed out of the car, disappearing into the club.

Jax chuckled, shaking his head, and moved to Gia's car door. He opened it and extended a hand. "She's not going to say anything to Lucky, you know," he said, tucking Gia's hand into the crook of his arm as she rose. "She just needs the distraction of you thinking she might."

Gia nodded. "Yeah, I heard about Sonny. Carly won't talk about it, but I can tell she's pretty freaked out."

Jax's gaze darkened slightly. He glanced at his watch and held it up to her, forcing a smile. "Three minutes and fifteen seconds. Better hurry. My wife doesn't make promises she doesn't intend to keep."

Occasionally, very occasionally, being the Police Commissioner had it's perks. When Marcus Taggert entered Luke's through the back "Owners Only" door, no one said a word. He paused as he entered the club proper, scanning the crowd. Marcus spotted Alexis almost immediately; he didn't think there was a crowd big enough in which he couldn't find this woman in ten seconds flat.

He moved forward, stopping his purposeful stride only just before he reached her. Alexis' head turned as he stepped into her frame of view. She rose, taking a step towards him. "Marcus!" Alexis glanced at Nikolas and Stefan, lost in a deep and silent Cassadine stand-off, then moved to her lover's side, drawing him down the bar into a more private corner. "You came," she said, softly.

Marcus considered several responses then discarded them, going with the simple truth. "You called." He ran his right arm down her forearm, cupping her elbow in his palm as he drew her towards him. Jerking his chin past her shoulder, he indicated her family. "Can we skip -- that, for now?"

Alexis followed his gaze, wincing at the look in her nephew's eyes. She nodded, turning back to Marcus. "They're not going to notice, regardless." She shook her head once. "Don't ask; believe me, I don't want to talk about my family anymore." She glanced up and into his eyes -- and found what she was looking for. Alexis moved into his arms, fitting under his chin as seamlessly as if she were made for him. She felt his arms rise up slowly to encircle her, and she spoke directly into his chest. "Marcus, about Sonny...."

His arms tightened convulsively about her, and his forehead dropped to the top of her head. "I don't want to talk about anything anymore," he murmured, cutting off whatever she'd been about to say. Marcus' hands slid to her upper arms as he moved away from her just enough to see her face. "Dance with me," he whispered, his voice full of urgent need. He needed her not to talk about Corinthos, needed her to forget the other man's name, needed to forget the name himself. "Dance with me," he repeated.

Alexis followed him onto the dance floor, answering what she heard in his voice, becoming what he needed her to be. The woman who loved him, nothing more. Nothing less. Please god, she thinks, as she sways in the embrace of this man she does love, nothing less.

Lucky looked at his brother and stood up abruptly. Nikolas's face had gone all Cassdine-y, and Lucky could read the cue for him to exit gracefully flashing loud and clear. "I'm gonna go look for Em. Because she's probably looking for me, and I wouldn't want her to get -- lost." So maybe not so much the graceful part. He cleared his throat, realizing neither Nikolas or Stefan was hearing him anyway, and turned to Anna. "You'll be around? Not gonna die again or anything?"

She shook her head, her eyes never leaving her husband's face. "I wasn't planning on it, no. It was a true delight to meet you, Lucky. You've so much of your father in you."

"Thanks. I'll, uh, be going now." He took off quickly; too much Cassadine intensity made him feel all squicky.

"And, on that note," Kristina spoke up, quickly, "I'd better go check in with Claude. Coming honey?" she plucked at her husband's sleeve.

"Right behind you, babe," AJ's hand was at the small of his wife's back, guiding her away from the scene. He may be married to a Cassadine, didn't mean he'd ever feel truly comfortable around the clan en masse. And, particularly not when they started to glare.

Stefan noticed no movement, heard no words. His entire being was focused on the boy -- the man standing in front of him. He spoke. "Nikolas," and stopped, aware that his mind was forming the words it always did, no matter how many years or DNA tests had passed: 'my son'. He cleared his throat. "Brephos. I had not expected to see you tonight."

Nikolas inclined his head with a slightly bitter twist to his mouth. "I had not expected to see you married. So, it seems we are both surprised, Stefan." He was aware that choosing to leave off the title 'Uncle' was both deliberate and childish.

"So it seems," Stefan responded, refusing to allow himself to be goaded. He reached out his hand to Anna, drawing her forward. "Nikolas, this is my wife, Anna Cassadine. Anna, my nephew Nikolas."

Nikolas started as the woman stepped into the light, her hands outstretched. "But -- I know you," he said, his brow furrowing. "You're--"

"Robin's mother, yes." Anna nodded, letting her hands drop as Nikolas showed no inclination to take them. "She's spoken of you so many times. Between my daughter and your uncle, I almost feel we've met."

"I wish I could say the same. But, my uncle," his tone was sharp, "hasn't mentioned you once. Why? When did you get married and forget to tell me about it, Stefan?"

"Anna and I were wed a month ago. I did not think it ... seemly to mention on the telephone." Stefan rested a hand on the small of his wife's back; in that small gesture, Nikolas saw all he needed to know about the state of his uncle's marriage.

Oddly enough, confirmation of Stefan's feelings for his wife only made him feel more betrayed. Complex are the ways of the human heart. "Unseemly?" Nikolas' tone was sharp. "Did it not occur to you that perhaps it was more 'unseemly'," he bit out the word, "to keep your family in the dark about your marriage?"

"Family?" Stefan's eyes flashed, briefly. "Then you are choosing to renew that particular tie between us? A tie which, brephos, it was your choice to sever. Never mine."

"Stefan," Anna spoke softly, her hand resting on her husband's arm, "perhaps this discussion would be better continued in a more ... private setting, love."

Stefan looked at her, then around the club. It had filled up rapidly, and Anna was right. The things they had to say were best not said here. He nodded once, and looked at Nikolas. "Perhaps you would join us for dinner sometime this week."

Nikolas' jaw set so hard it almost snapped. "Dinner? I find out you're married, by accident, in the middle of my brother's club, and you respond by handing out dinner invitations?" He choked back the rest of his response; whatever else, his uncle's wife was right. This was not the place. He lifted his chin, shutters almost visibly descending over his eyes. "I can't -- I have to--" Nikolas shook his head once and took a step back. "No." His jaw worked, as if he were about to say something else, before he abruptly turned and walked away.

Stefan's body tensed. "Nikolas," he called, and stepped forward before feeling Anna's hand on the small of his back.

"Stefan, don't," she said, quietly. "Let him come to us."

Stefan didn't turn, he didn't face her. His body was rigid, and his eyes -- Anna couldn't understand how Nikolas could look in her husband's eyes and walk away from what was in them. "You do not know my nephew."

"No," she agreed, then paused. Anna let the pause play out until Stefan turned, slightly, to look at her. She allowed a small, tender smile to cross her lips as she leaned forward, her forehead gently resting against his, her hand rising to cradle his cheek. She felt, rather than saw, Stefan take a shuddering breath. "But, I know you, my love. He'll come. He will come."

"Married? And to a dead woman?" Emily leaned forward and propped her elbows up on the table. She turned to Lucky, her hair falling over her shoulder. "Huh."

"It is Count Vlad we're talkin' about, babe." Lucky leaned back and slung his arm around the back of Emily's chair. "Dead things kinda go with the territory. It's just this particular dead woman," he shook his head, "man. Anna and Robert are like these super heroes who used to star in my bedtime stories. It's hard to believe."

"Which? That she's alive or that she's with Stefan?"

"Both." His mouth twisted in a wry grin. "Maybe it's a good thing my dad can't come back to Port Chuck. 'Cause I can just hear him now." Lucky sat up and deepened his voice. "'Aw hell, Cowboy, might as well sell the whole damn thing to Claude and buy a pair of skates. Hell ain't just frozen over, it's startin' to feel chilly up here!'"

"What, you don't think Luke would buy the newlyweds a china set?" Emily grinned, reaching over to twine her fingers around his. She glanced over his shoulder, and the grin slipped as her fingers tightened. "Oh joy," she said under her breath. "Why do I always forget when you say family, you mean her too?"

As Lucky turned, Lu danced up, another woman trailing slightly behind her. "Look who I found," she called out, delightedly.

Lucky flashed a quick apologetic glance at Em. "I did say family party," he murmured, before dragging his chair around. He looked past his little sister. "Cousin Caroline," he drawled, nodding at the older woman.

Carly ignored Lucky and threaded her arm through Lu's. "Wouldn't you think, Lesley Lu, that if you had a sister who was coming back to town after five years out of the freakin' country, you'd manage to inform the rest of that sister's family, like her cousin, that she was back in town a little bit sooner than two freakin' weeks after she'd already BEEN here?"

Lu laughed. "You are just like Dad said you were," she exclaimed, looking at Carly with delight.

"Okay, sooo not going there," Carly said, lifting her hands in the air. She sat down at the table, glancing at Lucky's companion. "Emily," she said, neutrally with a nod before raising her eyes to her cousin. "Don't worry, cousin mine, I'm not mad. I forgive you," she said benevolently. "I even brought you a present."

"Should I be worried?" he asked.

"What a question!" Carly turned back to Lu. "Your brother," she admonished, "is very rude. Maybe I won't give him his present after all."

Lu laughed out loud. "Gonna go back and man my post. Don't get in any fights why I'm gone. 'Cause when you and Lucky duke it out," she grinned, "I wanna watch."

Carly blew her cousin a kiss. "A girl after my own heart," she called after her, then looked at Lucky, lifting an eyebrow. "Who I should've hung out with sooner."

Lucky rolled his eyes dramatically. "Mea culpa, Caroline," he said, thumping himself loudly on the chest. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, what'dya want, Caroline, my blood?"

Carly smiled beatifically. "A simple apology'll do it." She looked past them towards the entrance and waved energetically. "Right on cue, here comes my present." She stood up, her hands outstretched to twine in Jax's jacket as he approached them. "Just in time. Ten more seconds, and I would have gotten ... antsy." She was speaking to her husband, but her voice was pitched just loud enough that anyone lingering nearby could hear.

Gia stepped out from behind Jax, a small smile on her lips, none of the nervous panic currently playing the bongos in her stomach showing on her face. "Good thing we hurried, then. I know how you can get when you're -- antsy." She took a deep breath, let it out, and turned slowly to face the table. Gia fluttered her fingers nonchalantly. "So...long time, no see?"

It was Lucky who stood up, of course. Emily -- well. Despite lots of time and lots of space, there was very little chance Emily Quartermaine would be rising to greet Gia Campbell with anything approaching friendliness.

"Damn, talk about old home week. Gia Campbell." Lucky spoke her name like he was tasting it. He hugged her briefly. For a moment like a flash of white lightning, as his palm touched the bare flesh of her back, he saw Gia as she'd been that last night, her body arched above his. He jerked away from her embrace, slid his hands into his pockets. "It's been a long time."

"Thousands and thousands of years." Gia strove for a tone that encapsulated 'I-am-renewing-a-causual-acquaintance-and-absolutly-nothing-bloody-more'. She almost even succeeded. Adopting a blithe expression, she turned to face the lion in the den. "Hey Emily. Been a while, huh?"

"Mmmm-hmm," was the best Emily could manage. What was this? Had she missed the invitation for 'Get Emily's Least Favorite People In the Same Room' Night? Maybe, if Lucky was right and the dead were rising, Katherine Bell would wander in next; after all, she'd done it before. Emily stood, abruptly. "I've got to head to the ladies' room," she said, aware of exactly how graceless she sounded. She couldn't possibly have cared less.

Lucky looked at her, silently asking if she was okay, the way that boyfriends who hold you when you sleep and know the texture of your dreams do. Her eyes softened though she didn't, quite, smile. "I won't be long. Too many, uh," Emily looked at the table to remind herself just what she'd been drinking, "waters," she finished lamely. She waited a beat, then hurried off, needing to get away from Gia and Carly in order to breathe.

"Well," Carly's mouth was curved in a smile that was nothing if not satisfied, and she turned in her husband's arms, winding her own about his neck, "I don't have to use the ladies room. And, I want to dance. How 'bout it? Wanna oblige me?"

Jax grinned, dipping his head down just enough to graze Carly's lips with his. He knew her motives were double, and probably triple, fold. It didn't matter; at least one of those designs was dancing with him. He'd take it. "Thought you'd never ask," he murmured, lips dipping down to Carly's neck. He nodded at Gia and Lucky as he drew his wife away. "See you kids later."

Gia stared after Carly willing her to turn around, to come back. After a moment she sighed and turned around. This was Carly; what had she expected, after all? She looked at Lucky and jerked her chin towards the ladies' room. "Sorry 'bout Emily. I didn't mean to run her off."

"You didn't," Lucky said, quickly, then catching her eye, grinned ruefully. Both of them knew he was lying. Something in the shared smile broke the ice, and they sat. Lucky regarded Gia a moment in silence. "You cut your hair."

"Something like three years ago, yeah." Gia folded her long, elegant fingers together on the table between them. She tried to think of a thing to say, a question to ask that would tell her whether or not she could trust this man with her child. "How're you doin', Lucky? Are you ... okay?"

Blue eyes searched out dark ones; there was a long pause. "You mean am I sane?" he asked, finally.

She shook her head, meeting his eyes clearly. "No. I mean, are you okay?"

Lucky's mouth twisted wryly, and he leaned forward, slouching towards her. "Most days, yeah. I manage." His eyebrows flicked upwards. "You?"

Gia let out a breath she hadn't even known she was holding and the first spontaneous smile she'd known tonight crossed her lips. "Most days, I manage," she answered him. And laughed.

Emily stared into the mirror in the blessedly empty ladies' room. She was twenty-four years old, rapidly rising in the business world, with a healthy and happy relationship, and all of the sudden, she felt like a shadow of the girl she'd been when she was sixteen. She hated that Carly still had the power to make her feel that way. She hated that Gia Campbell was back in town. And, most of all, she really hated the sixteen year old girl who was looking back at her from inside the mirror.

Emily grasped the cold water tap, turning it full-blast with ferocity. She cupped her hands under the flow and brought them to her face, heedless of makeup. Make-up she could fix. Em gasped at the coldness, reaching out blindly for a paper towel. She held the towel to her face a long moment before bringing her hand down, gazing at her reflection again. Slowly, she reached out to turn off the tap, her free hand splayed against the mirror as if she could reach out, touch that other girl's cheek, tell her -- Emily didn't know what she'd tell her. But, all of the sudden, she wanted desperately to tell her something.

She shook her head sharply, dismissing the thought, and reapplied lipstick and eyeliner. Emily gathered up her purse and pushed hard at the door, suddenly wanting nothing more in this life than to be out of this room. The door swung outwards and into someone with a resounding 'thwack'. "God, I'm sorry, I didn't--" Her apology broke off midstream as she lifted her eyes to the figure standing still. "Nikolas," she said, flatly. Without even thinking, she took a step forward, intending to brush past him.

Nikolas caught her wrist, two fingers pressed against her pulse. She stopped, half-way turned from him. His voice, when he finally spoke, was ragged; Emily closed her eyes at the naked need in it. "Emily," he said, just her name, just that. "Don't go." ~*~

"Don't go," he'd said, smooth laughter attempting to hide the desperate note beneath. She'd heard the desperation, of course. For whatever stupid reason, she could always see the things hidden in Nikolas Cassadine.

So she'd laughed, letting it remain light, letting what he wanted to hide remain hidden. She had shaken her head regretfully. "Early flight tomorrow's calling my name. Thank you for this week, though." Emily had brushed her hair back, almost nervously with her free fingers. "This trip to Paris would have been deadly dull if I hadn't run into you."

He hadn't let go of her hand; that had surprised her. That he'd hold on, that he'd let himself be that ... vulnerable. "Em. How old are you now? Twenty-three, twenty-four? I'm sorry," his free hand pressed against his forehead. "It's unforgivable of me, but I've forgotten."

"Twenty-three," she'd said, her voice soft. "At least, for another couple of weeks."

"That's right, that's right. January 15th." He'd lifted her palm to his lips; oddly fascinated, she stood still, letting him press her hand almost distractedly against his mouth. "I can't believe I forgot. Too much champagne, downstairs." The corners of his mouth had turned up, but it hadn't been a smile. Hadn't even come close. Suddenly, he'd looked into her eyes so dark, so hard that his eyes had felt like nails, holding her where she stood. "Don't ever turn twenty-five, Emily. It comes with prices too deep to pay."

She'd tried to smile, way out of her depth here. It had been a very long time since she'd tried to navigate the road map of his heart. "That's the thing about birthdays, Nikolas. They just keep coming and coming, no matter what you do." His fingers had tightened around hers as she said the last.

Bitter laughter had filled the room; his hands had finally loosed hers as he turned away from her violently, and she pulled her elbows tight to her sides, as if holding herself in. "Goddamnit," he'd sworn, cursing -- something, and she jumped. The word, so ugly, so unnatural in his cultured tones, felt like a blow. "They do, will ye or no. The years, the days, they come. And, there's nothing you can do to stop it. Except. One. Thing."

She'd crossed to him, of course. She was who she was, and he was who he was, and it had been so long that no matter how it had changed over the years, it was very difficult to remember a time when she hadn't loved him. She'd lain one hand against his back, softly, and spoken his name, because she hadn't known what else to say. "Nikolas."

And, before she finished forming it, before it had come out of her mouth, before she'd heard the word break into a thousand pieces in the diamond-edged knives that was the silence following his words, he'd turned. And he'd grasped her elbows, not gently, and he'd pulled her against him, and his lips were black velvet, so smooth, so dark. So dark, in the night. So dark. ~*~

Emily pulled her wrist away from him sharply, cradling it against her stomach like it hurt, even though his fingers had been gentle. She gestured, half with her chin, more with her eyes. "Lucky's waiting. I have to go."

"Emily." He said her name like it was a thing he slept with under his pillow. "Please. I need... please..." Nikolas drew his hand through his hair, in a gesture that would have broken her heart in it's little-boy-lostness if she'd let it.

"No," her voice was sharp and clean. "No, Nikolas. You can't -- need me. You can't." Emily's hand rose to ward him off, even though he hadn't moved. "Look, I know your uncle's back, and I know you need someone. But, it can't be me. That ... that ended. It can't ever be me again."

"It's always going to be you." Nikolas' voice was harsh, and she needed it not to be. She needed it to just -- stop. "Deny it, walk away from it, pretend it didn't happen, it did. I was there, you were there."

"You're seven years too late, Nikolas," Emily's words were ice. They had to be. She had to make him see. "This can't ever-- My god!" she said, finally, as he looked at her without comprehension, half gasping, her words screamed in a whisper. "I'm in love with your brother!"

Rather than recoiling as she'd expected, Nikolas simply nodded once. "Of course you are," he murmured, eyes heavy-lidded, but still on her, burning into her. "I am, after all, a Cassadine."

Kristina tapped the microphone a couple times, waiting for the crowd to settle down, and look up at her. "Hi everyone," she said, smiling. "I normally just go into the singing part without so much of the speaking. But, tonight's a little different; tonight, I've got something special to sing about."

She lifted her hand to her forehead, shielding it from the lights, and peered into the crowd, searching for her brother. She found him at the bar and gave him a special smile, including her brand new sister-in-law in the look. "My brother's come home, and he's come with a new wife, and so, tonight, I'm gonna sing for them." Kristina settled the microphone back into its stand, and leaned forward. "Stefan, Anna," her hands clasped in front of her, "this one's for you."

Something in your eyes makes me want to lose myself
Makes me want to lose myself
In your arms

Anna turned to her husband, lifting her hand to his cheek. She didn't need words. Hadn't, not once since they met. Because against all odds, after she'd thought she'd used up all the love she'd been gifted with in her life, this man with a darkly passionate soul and the gentlest lips she'd ever known had wandered into her life. Touched her soul. Brought her home.

Stefan turned his cheek into her palm, his lips grazing its inside. "My wife," he whispered against her palm. "My wife," he repeated again. One hand slid to the small of her back, resting there lightly, the other to the curve of her stomach, tracing that curve with his fingertips like it was the most precious thing he knew. It was. She was. "My wife," he said, a third time, his voice breaking slightly.

She lifted her lips to his, swallowing the word, making it hers. Giving it back to him. "My husband," Anna murmured against his lips. "I love you, Stefan Cassadine." Sometimes, needed or not, words were a good thing to speak.

There's something in your voice makes my heart beat fast
Hope this feeling lasts
The rest of my life

Jax ran his fingers through her hair as he drew her closer to him, swaying to the music with his eyes closed. Opening them was unnecessary; he knew every inch of this woman in his arms, this living flame he lived with, laughed with, loved. Was lost in. She was everything he'd never known he wanted, and their life together was everything they both needed to be whole. He'd give everything he was to keep her that way.

"Mmmm," Carly murmured, her head dropping to his shoulder. Her hands ran inside his jacket, slowly tracing every inch of his spine. "Wish we could stay here forever."

He knew what she wasn't saying; he knew that she knew he knew, that she knew that she didn't have to say the rest. That if this moment stretched out forever, she'd never have to face tomorrow, never have to see him again. "Me too," Jax whispered fervently into her hair, his eyes snapping open. "Me too."

If you knew how lonely my life has been
And how long I've felt so low
If you knew how I wanted someone to come along
And change my life the way you've done

Gia gazed around the club, couples swirling together, laughing, playing out patterns older than either of them. She looked at Lucky, with a smile. "You know, being back here -- it almost feels like I never left Port Charles. That the past five years are just some strange dream I had, and now I'm awake."

"Oh yeah?" Lucky grinned back at her; it was remarkable how easy it was to fall back into those old, comfortable patterns with Gia. He had always been able to just ... be around her. "And, if it were a dream? Anything you'd change, Gia Campbell?"

She looked searchingly into his eyes, not sure what he was asking. Not sure what kind of an answer she could safely give. "One thing, maybe," Gia said, finally, taking the plunge, "if I could." She smiled, a quick flash of lightening, sadder than it should be, across her face, then she looked away. Back to the crowd, away from her son's eyes looking at her in his father's face. "But that's the problem with dreams; you never can make them come out the way you want."

A window breaks down a long dark street
And a siren wails in the night
But I'm alright cause I have you here with me
And I can almost see through the dark there's light

She took two steps back, the wall hard and unexpected against her back as she banged hard into it. Emily shook her head so hard she thought, for a moment, it might fly off, come loose. "Get away from me," Emily whispered. "Nikolas, don't do this. Don't make this into a thing we can't walk away from."

"Walk away?" Nikolas moved forward, not touching her, but so close she could feel his breath on her cheek. "Emily, I can't walk away from you. I'm still in that room, in Paris, every time I close my eyes. Every night, I feel your lips, your skin," his voice lowered, a whisper beyond intimate, closer than a kiss, "every night, I taste you--"

"No!" Emily pushed hard against him, both hand against his chest, propelling herself from the wall and half-stumbling away from him. Away from this. Her breath was hard and fast, and her eyes were wild. "Don't ever touch me again, Nikolas. Don't come near me, don't speak to me, don't -- be with me. Because if you do," she caught her breath, let it go, made the threat she'd sworn she'd never make, "if you do, I'll tell Lucky. And, it'll be on your head what comes next."

Feels like home to me
Feels like I'm all the way back
where I come from
Feels like home to me
Feels like I'm all the way back
where I belong*

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