Chapter Eleven: Girl Talk...
Alexis' suite
"I don't think I remember how to do this," Alexis looked at her friend dubiously. "And, yes, I know exactly how pathetic that sounds. But it's just been so long."
V leaned back into the couch cushions, and propped her bare feet up on the coffee table. "It's like riding a horse, Alexis," she said reassuringly, with a playful grin. "C'mon, it'll be fun. After you do me, I'll do you," she wheedled, teasingly.
Alexis shook her head. "I should make you sign a disclaimer. Or something. I mean, there's every chance in the world that this is not going to be pretty." V shot her a look, and Alexis sighed in resignation. "Alright, alright." She picked up two small bottles and held them out towards V. "Which color -- 'Rose-Bud' or 'Sophisticated Lady'?" Peering closely at the nail polish bottles, Alexis grimaced. "Where do they come up with these names?" she muttered.
"Neither; those are Countess Isabella colors," V responded, picking up a rich plummy shade with specks of darker glitter dancing through it. She held it out to Alexis, with a grin. "I'm in the mood for something a little more -- V. 'Black Coffee With Plum'." She tossed the bottle to Alexis, who caught it tentatively.
"Don't say I didn't warn you," Alexis said darkly, as V propped her feet in her friend's lap. "Here," Alexis tossed her a black silk sleep cover. "Put this on; at least you won't have to see the damage. Don't say I didn't warn you." V laughed, and drew the cover over her eyes. Alexis bit her lip, looking at the supplies V had layed out in consternation. Pretty much picking at random, she grabbed a cotton ball, shoving it between V's toes. After a few minutes of intense concentration and a few mishaps with the polish remover that left V gasping in laughter, she began to get the hang of it. "So," Alexis started on V's left big toe, biting her lower lip in concentration, "I suppose Scott told you that he and Lucy signed the divorce papers this morning?"
V nodded. "I think he was almost even -- relieved. This whole time Lucy's been gone, he's been living in a kind of limbo, waiting for his life to continue. I even think he kind of thought that he and Lucy and their daughters would just pick up where they left off when he came home, or at least, that's what he wanted to believe." She paused, quiet a long moment. "He's given that up now. Even though it's breaking his heart, at least it's forward motion. Anyways," V said, suddenly realizing that she gave way more of an answer to Alexis' simple question than was expected, "Scott did tell me, yes."
Alexis sat up, looking at V. She was still so long that V pushed up the sleep cover only to see Alexis laughing silently, shaking her head. "Baldwin-itis," Alexis explained, ruefully. "It got you. He seems altogether irritating and totally and completely devoid of any and all appeal, unless you count an excess of smarmy charm as appealing. And, then he just does this thing. Where he grows on you. I hate that." She leaned forward, picking up V's foot again.
There was a short companionable silence between the two women. V cleared her throat, suddenly glad for the cover she had slid back down over her eyes. "He -- asked me to stay on. As Serena's full time bodyguard/nanny/pseudo older sister-type. Just until this divorce thing settles itself." It was V's turn to bite her lip. "Scott does kind of grow on you. I said yes."
"Well," Alexis said, diplomatically and carefully, sensing that now was not the time to pursue this, "anything that keeps you in Port Charles is good, in my book." She finished up V's pinky toe, then started fanning them lightly. "I've really missed being able to talk to you, V. More than a lot."
V slid the cover off her eyes and to the top of her head, a certain wistfulness in Alexis' voice catching her attention. "About anything in particular?" she asked, peering closely at Alexis.
"No," Alexis said hurriedly, then sighed, leaning back against the couch arm, drawing her legs up towards her chest. "Yes. Maybe." She blew out a long exasperated breath, then met V's eyes, almost reluctantly. "I may have done something very, very, very stupid." V didn't say anything; she just waited, her big brown eyes warmth itself. "IsleptwithLukeSpencer," Alexis muttered, her voice hurried and low.
V considered, long and carefully. After a pregnant moment, she spoke. "Oh," V said, lifting her eyebrows.
"Oh?" Alexis echoed incredulously. "Is that all? I just told you that I slept with Luke Spencer, and I have no idea what it means or what it even was, other than total insanity, and you say 'oh'?" She peered at V closely. "You're not surprised. Why are you not surprised?" she demanded, almost in a panic.
"Alexis," V said, calmly, "you're not with Ned. Luke's not with anyone. You're both big people. And -- I've seen the two of you together. I've heard you talk about him. You want to know why I'm not surprised? Because this thing between you and Luke, whatever it is, has been brewing for just about as long as I've known you. If I were going to guess, I'd even say that it's been going on as long as the two of you have known each other." She slid forward on the couch, gripping Alexis' hands softly. "Hey," V said gently, "if you want my permission or blessing or whatever, I'll give it to you. But, you don't need it, 'Lexis. No matter what your brother or anyone else would say, you get to choose who your enemies and your friends are, and you're the only one who gets to make that choice."
Alexis squeezed V's hands back lightly. "Thank you," she said, softly. "If I get to choose, I choose you, every single time. I don't know anyone who has a bigger heart. Or is a better friend."
V laughed easily. "You better believe it. 'Cause if I weren't," she regarded at her feet ruefully, leaning slightly back, "after seeing what you've done to my toes, I'd probably never speak to you again."
the PC Grille
Carly paused in the doorway of the Grille; she hated this place. She didn't have a single pleasant memory of it and a whole barrellful of bad ones. But, when her lunch companion had called and suggested meeting here, Carly had been so surprised and confused and curious, she'd agreed without thinking about it. There was always time later, as in right now, to have regrets. She started to turn away from the restaurant, then froze. What the hell was she afraid of? Carly set her chin, tossed her hair back, and strode quickly through the restaurant, sliding into the chair waiting for her. She looked at the woman sitting across from her with. "So, I'm here. Wanna tell me why?" Carly half demanded, half asked.
Lucy looked at the younger woman sitting across from her, and an amused smile flitted across her lips. "Well, I'll be darned," she said, shaking her head. "I told him he was finally getting all old and senile but turns out just maybe he was right."
"Who was right? About what?" Carly questioned, suspiciously. Suddenly, her eyes narrowed. "Oh, don't tell me. You're talking about my goddamned Uncle Luke, aren't you? He's why I'm having lunch with you today." Carly slapped her palm down onto the table, loud enough to make the silverware clink. "Give the bastard one tiny foothold into your life, and he gets his big, messy feet all over the whole damn thing!"
Lucy's smile turned into a full-fledged laugh. "And, Luke said you reminded him of me," she chortled. "Which you do, actually. I didn't believe him when he said, but -- I get what he meant. I should have figured it out a very long time ago, the very minute I met you, Carly Benson. You're one of us."
"One of who?" Carly asked, looking at Lucy as if she'd suddenly sprouted wings. Last thing she'd expected from this lunch was Lucy Coe waxing poetic about all the things she and Carly had in common.
"The outcasts," Lucy said, cheerfully. "The edge-dwellers. The ones who make all the rest of them," she indicated the rest of the room with a broad sweep of her hand, "nervous."
"Like you've ever been an outcast anywhere in your life, Lucy," Carly scoffed. She looked at the other woman. "You run the Nurses' Ball; half the doctors in this town eat out of your hand. And, you practically own the other half; I have perfume with your picture on it at my house." Carly grabbed her purse off the back of her chair and half-rose. "Look, I don't know what the hell kind of game Luke's playing, but I'm not gonna play along. You wanna play, find yourself another sucker."
Lucy grabbed at her hand. "Carly, really and truly, I'm not playing any games. Luke did say you reminded him of me, when I first knew him." Her mouth twisted in a half-smile. "I may have carved out a place for myself here in Port Charles, now, but when I first came here -- it was so very different. You wouldn't believe half the things I pulled just to be accepted by the people I thought mattered. Or maybe you would," her eyebrow lifted.
Carly sat back down, slowly. "So, what, am I just here so you can look at me and reminisce about who you don't wanna be anymore? 'Cause, you know, I really get more than enough of that from my mother. And, one more person telling me who and what I don't need to be is the last thing I need right now."
"I'm not here to tell you anything," Lucy said, lifting her hands. "Actually, the reason I called you is that I need your advice."
"My advice??" Carly laughed. "Okay, that's just bizarre enough that I'm interested. Luke put you up to this one, too?"
"He suggested that you might have a solution to my particular problem. But, calling you was my choice; I don't do anything I don't really want to do. Something else I suspect we may just have in common." Lucy tapped her fingernails against the table, lightly. "I need a part-time nanny for my daughter, someone I can trust. Leaving my baby is hard enough; I need to know that I'm leaving her with someone who will cover her little face with kisses when she cries. Luke thought you might know someone, that's all."
Carly looked at Lucy a long moment. "My son's nanny, Leticia Juarez, practically raised him, when I couldn't," she said slowly. "She's -- there's no one better. Michael adores her, and I'd trust her with just about anything. Since Michael started preschool, she only works for me a couple of afternoons a week. If you just needed her for, say, mornings, she might be willing to talk to you about it." Carly grinned suddenly, relishing the feeling of giving advice and of just -- doing mother things. Talking about her kid, talking about his child-care. "I could put in a good word, 'specially since you say you're like me. Though, I don't know if I'd actually mention that to Leticia."
Lucy hesitated, then plunged ahead. Following her instincts had never led her wrong before. Well, almost never. Mostly never. "Maybe we could even set up play dates with Christina and your little Michael, if Leticia does work out. She's not been around other children her own age very much; she's not been around other people that much lately. The last thing I want for my daughter is to grow up afraid."
"Yeah, I know what you mean. Michael -- getting him in preschool was so good for him. He needed to know more than just his Mommy and my husband, you know? And, it's not like my kid was havin' to pick and choose his invites," Carly ran her hand through her hair quickly, the one gesture betraying the hurt Carly still, and always, felt at being thought -- less than.
Watching her, Lucy suddenly caught her breath. Something about the way she turned her head, something about the way she spoke about loving her child. Something that made her catch her breath, her hand flying to her throat. "Oh my God," Lucy whispered, knowing somehow as the thought crossed her mind that it was true.
Carly's forehead creased. "Lucy? Are you -- okay? Somethin' wrong?"
Lucy shook her head slowly, rising abruptly. "No, I -- nothing's wrong. Carly, I just -- remembered something. I'm sorry to cut this short; I really and truly enjoyed our talk. More than I'd expected to," she said frankly. "I'll call you? About Leticia, and getting our kids together?"
Carly shrugged. She had felt, for a moment, a connection with this woman that was more than welcome. Carly didn't have many friends; usually, she didn't feel the lack. Until and unless an alternative was in front of her. For a moment, until she'd started acting like the thing she wanted most was to get away, she'd thought maybe Lucy Coe could be one. "Whatever," Carly said, indifferently.
Lucy gathered her bag and coat, slipping the latter on and slinging the former over her shoulder. She paused to fix a long glance on Carly, her face stilling. "I've been where you're sitting, Carly," Lucy said softly. "And, I know what it feels like to finally stop trusting that anything good will ever come your way, so much so that when someone reaches out to you, it's easier, safer to knock their hand away than just -- take it. But, sometimes, every once in a while, it's worth it to find out just what's being offered. Friendship. Someone to be -- easy with. Someone who maybe could point out some of the potholes on the path you're on 'cause she's traveled it herself." Lucy paused. "Just something to think about. I'll be in touch, soon." With that, she turned and left, one incredible, amazing thought on her mind. And, it began and ended with Jerry Jacks.
Blair paused in the doorway of the PC Grille; Lucy's assistant at Deception had told her that she was having lunch here today. He hadn't said it was a business thing; Blair had headed over here, hoping to just -- touch base with the closest thing to an older sister she had in this town she'd found herself in. She really needed Lucy. She could feel it happening, her starting to panic. And, when Blair Daimler panicked -- things happened. And, afterwards, whether or not she intended it, there was almost always a big, fat, ugly mess to pick up.
Blair spotted Lucy, and she started over towards her table, then suddenly pulled short, recognizing the woman Lucy was dining with. "Goddamn it," she whispered under her breath, as Carly Morgan laughed, running her fingers through her hair. Blair's eyes narrowed; how in the hell did that woman have her hands all over everything Blair loved? What was it about her? Blair lifted her chin, tossing her hair back over her shoulder, and ducked back into the lobby before Lucy or Carly saw her. She clenched her fists, biting her lip hard enough so that she tasted the metallic tang of blood. After a moment, she reached into her bag, drawing her phone, and address book. She flipped through 'til she located the number she wanted, then dialed quickly, the red-hot anger still pulsing through her blood.
"It's Blair," she spoke sharply and bluntly as soon as the person on the other end picked up. "I need to see you. Now." Blair listened for a moment, then shook her head impatiently. "I don't care what you want; don't ever forget that. Meet me in an hour at my place. And, Morgan?" Blair paused, a slow smile spreading across her lips, if not making it to her eyes. "It's about your wife."
Luke's
She stopped suddenly, silently in the entrance to his office, just watching him. Unguarded was a thing neither of them rarely were; moments such as these, when he didn't know she was watching, when he didn't know anyone was, fascinated her. To an almost frightening degree. Startled by the intensity of that thought, Alexis deliberately let go of the door she'd been holding, letting it slam closed behind her.
Luke lifted his head immediately from the papers he'd been staring at without seeing for the past hour, his expression changing when he saw the woman standing in front of him. Changing into what no one could have said, least of all himself. 'Specially since he, himself, had no clue what Alexis Davis made him feel. Even so, he felt himself smiling slightly, his eyes running up and down her delectable body. Which he had reason to know was incredibly delectable, indeed. "Hello Natasha," was all Luke said.
"Hi," Alexis returned, slightly awkwardly. Her fingers played against themselves as she took a step towards Luke's desk then stopped herself again. "So, I was talking to my friend V," she said, her words tumbling slightly over themselves. She shook her head, annoyed at herself for acting so much like a -- schoolgirl. Alexis straightened, linking her fingers lightly behind her back, adapting her lawyer-tone, as self-preservation as much as anything. "She said something rather interesting; I thought I'd run it by you." Much as she tried, Alexis couldn't help letting a tentative, unnamed emotion into her voice. "V wasn't surprised that you and I had -- been together. She said, in fact, that she thought this," Alexis gestured from her to Luke and back again, "whatever it is has been coming for four years."
"Yeah?" Luke sat back in his chair, patently nonchalantly, his hands folded behind his head. "What d'ya think of that?"
"I think a lot of things, Luke," Alexis snapped back. "I think that if I let you, you'd probably drive me insane. I think that I'm not sure you or I can ever get past who we are. I think that I don't even want to get past who I am. I think that part of me hates that of all the people on this earth, you're the only one who seems to understand me." She was silent a long moment, her last words a whisper. "Most of all, I think that V was right."
Luke stood up, moving around the desk quickly, a dark fire catching in his eyes as he looked at her. He moved towards her, his hands sliding inside her jacket, and up and down her sides, snagging at the lacy fabric of her chemise. His lips found Alexis ear as he backed her up against the door, one hand locking it, the other catching at the small of her back and pulling her hard against him. His breath was warm against her neck as he murmured. "If this is four years in comin', guess we have a lot of time to make up for." As Alexis' body pressed against his, Luke slid both his arms up Alexis back, under her jacket, as his lips completed the journey to her neck.
Alexis' eyes half closed as she leaned back against the door, tilting her head to give Luke better access. "Luke," she murmured, almost impatiently, her fingers flying to his collar, unbuttoning quickly, "maybe we should talk about this." She caught her breath as his hands rose to her shoulders, shoving her jacket off, and sliding down the smooth skin of her bare arms, as his shirt fluttered to the floor. "Or maybe not," she whispered, thickly. Alexis drew his lips down to cover hers, parting her lips underneath his, as her tongue slipped into his mouth, not hesitantly, but deliberately, claiming it, for this moment, as hers and hers alone.
Luke took two steps backwards, never lifting his head from Alexis', drawing her with him. He collapsed in the tall chair in front of his desk, pulling Alexis between his legs as he sat back, one hand sliding underneath the thin material of her silk and lace chemise and across her smooth stomach, rising to cup her heavy breasts in his palm, his thumb running across the even thinner silk covering her sensitive nipples. Alexis made a small, inarticulate sound into his mouth, her own hands resting against his bare shoulders, her thumbs digging into his skin as Luke impatiently fumbled at the clasp of her bra, needing there to be nothing between his skin and hers.
Alexis lifted her head, finding his eyes locked on hers. "I could help you with that," she said, one hand covering his and quickly unsnapping her bra, allowing the white silk to slip down and off, the thin tank top having already been pushed up and out of the way. "I could help you with this too." Alexis' fingers found Luke's belt buckle and deftly undid it and slid it off, beginning to unzip his pants with one smooth motion.
"You're damn good at this, Natasha," Luke said, amusement warring with the lust in his eyes, lifting an eyebrow at her, even as his hands rose to pull her even further towards him, until she was half-straddling his body, her skirt riding high against her thighs.
"You know what they say, Luke," Alexis gasped again, as he lowered his mouth to her breasts, drawing circles around her nipples with his tongue, then biting gently on the hard peaks that quickly formed. "Practice makes perfect," she managed to murmur half-challengingly, her back arching, her fingers locking at the back of his neck, sliding her body forward against his legs.
Luke didn't answer her in words, he just continued his attentions with a renewed enthusiasm, one hand balancing her against him at the small of her back, the other sliding her skirt higher, deliberately moving closer to her dampening panties. He rose his hips as she responded in kind, shoving his now unzipped, unbuckled pants down and out of her way. Luke grinned as he heard Alexis' throaty laugh above him at her discovery of his lack of underwear. What begins as an answering laugh catches in the back of Luke's throat, as Alexis begins to slid off of of Luke's lap, her lips tracing a path down his chest with calculated slowness, her fingers preceding her as she slowly began to stroke Luke's half-erect cock with her fingertips. "Natasha," he said, hoarsely, his hands winding in her thick, silky hair, her lips following where her fingertips had been.
With one quick, bold grin up at him that said very clearly 'tit for tat', Alexis lowered her lips to him, just the tip of her tongue sliding slowly up his length. Luke let out a long groan, his fingers tightening in her hair, as he leaned, hard, against the back of the chair. Slowly, deliberately, she took him in her mouth, not allowing him to increase the torturously slow rhythm she set, bobbing her head slowly, slowly up and down, her fingers gripping his thighs.
Luke closed his eyes, determined to let her do this her way. After long moments of sweet torture, his short-lived determination died a quick death, and he made a sharp noise, halfway a groan, halfway a noise of impatience, and slid his hands down to her waist. "Enough, Alexis," he moaned, lifting her once again to his lap, sliding her skirt up to her waist and her panties down past her ankles in one sure, swift motion. His fingers cupped her core, finding it dripping in anticipation, as Alexis claimed his lips again, her hips lifting slightly in anticipation of what was to come. He slid one finger inside her, relishing both the way she automatically tightened around him and the small moan he could feel her making into his mouth.
Alexis lifted her hips further as both Luke's hands slid up to her waist, positioning her above him. She lifted her head from his sweet lips, suddenly needing to see his eyes, needing to see herself reflected in them. As her head lifted, and her dark eyes locked on his blue ones, Luke stilled, knowing, knowing what she needed, that she needed to choose this, that she needed to know he did. He met her eyes, waiting, as time itself seemed to still. Alexis bit her lip, then slowly, slowly smiled at what she saw on his face, lowering her lips once more to his, lowering her body onto him, both of them gasping as he entered her.
Luke's hands held Alexis at her waist, his palms splayed against her back, but he allowed her to set the pace, his own hips rocking slightly in response to her. She moved at first slowly up and down, and then, began to quicken the pace and her breathing, lifting her head and throwing it back, passion clouding her features. Luke drank in the sight of Alexis arched against him with his eyes, her eyes half-closed, her sweat-sheened body rising and falling, her fingers laced across his shoulders. His own breath quickened and one hand rose to tangle in her hair, bringing her mouth almost harshly back down to his, needing to taste her again as both of them began to move even more quickly. "God, Natasha," he whispered before their lips met, the words more a benediction than anything else. His tongue slipped into her mouth as both their bodies tensed, and the world exploded, both of them crying out inarticulately, finding their release at the same moment.
When the world starting falling back into place again, her forehead resting against his chest, Luke caressing her back in lazy circles, still joined to her, both of them wanting, for their own, perhaps not so different, reasons, to prolong the contact. "Well," Alexis lifted her head just enough to look at Luke, still resting against him, "that had to make up for at least a year, all on it's own."
She dropped her head back against his chest, as Luke began to laugh, holding her hard against him. "At least, darlin'," he echoed, laughing. "At least. But, you know," Luke regarded her skirt still caught haphazardly at her waist, the rest of their clothes discarded across the room, and slowly unzipped her skirt, smiling sexily into her eyes as her head lifted curiously, "that still leaves us three left..." His words trailed off as he lowered his head to hers...
Lucy's room
"No! Bloody hell, I don't give a damn what you offer me," Jerry stalked across the suite, his voice a fierce whisper as he clenched the phone in his fist. "I'm out; I'm through. That was the deal." He listened impatiently a long moment, then his face darkened. "You really are a ruthless bastard, aren't you? Doesn't matter; I'm not going to--" As he heard the door close behind him, hard, he turned around to face Lucy, an inscrutable expression on her face. "Don't call me; I'll call you," Jerry said quickly into the phone. "This side of never," he muttered, as the phone clicked back into the receiver.
Jerry looked at Lucy, forcing a smile. "Old poker buddy," he twinkled at her. "Trying to scare up a game or two; I was trying to tell him I'm out of the poker playing business." He paused, picking up on some very odd vibes coming from Lucy. "Christina's asleep, Luce; she's fine. Are you?"
Lucy just stared at him, everything finally clicking into place. She wasn't sure how but she knew, she knew she was right about this. Finally, she spoke. "I just had lunch with Carly Morgan," Lucy said, her voice oddly subdued. The sudden tension in Jerry's shoulders, readable only to someone who knew him as well as she did, now, only confirmed what she already knew. "Yes, Jerry. I had lunch with your daughter."
