**
In our times of trouble
We only had ourselves
Nobody else
No one there to save us
We had to save ourselves
And when the storms came through
They found me and you
Back to back together
And when the sun would shine
It was yours and mine
Yours and mine forever
CHORUS:
Oh how the years go by
Oh how the love brings tears to my eyes
All through the changes the soul never dies
We fight, we laugh, we cry
As the years go by
There were times we stumbled
They thought they had us down
But we came around (yeah)
How we rolled and rambled
We got lost and we got found
Now we're back on solid ground (yeah)
We took everything
All our times would bring
In this world of dangers
'Cause when your heart is strong
You know you're not alone
In this world of strangers
CHORUS
And if we lose our way
Any night or day
Well we'll always be
Where we should be
I'm there for you
And I know you're there for me
CHORUS 3x
As the years go by
(Amy Grant from House Of Love: "Oh How The Years Go By")
**
The sun set over Port Charles in all its glorious splendor, casting purple shadows over the landscape and sending red streaks through the sky. The air was crisp and clean. It was perfect fall weather, the trees were just changing their colors, and the temperature was about 70 degrees.
A nineteen year old Elizabeth Webber strode briskly up the walk to the Spencer home. A mysterious message on her answering machine on arriving home from work had prompted her to look on her pillow, where she found a single red rose and a note in Lucky's handwriting asking her to meet him here at 6:30.
Liz glanced at her watch before knocking on the door. 6:25.
"This'll have to do," she whispered to herself, before raising her hand to knock. She didn't get the chance. A small white envelope Scotch-taped to the brass knocker caught her attention. Her name was written in Lucky's bold print in red ink on the front. She reached up to take it off, ignoring the way her hand shook slightly. The note inside read:
My dearest heart,
Meet me in the backyard in five minutes.
It was unsigned.
**
The backyard had absolutely been transformed. White Christmas lights hung from the branches of the trees and were strung around the posts on the back porch. A mock-parquet dance floor about ten feet wide and long was stragetically placed in the center of the yard. Rose petals -- white, pink and red combined -- littered the freshly-mowed grass, all over. A stereo/CD player sat tucked away in the corner of the porch. A round table "borrowed" from Kelly's took up space about three feet from the dance floor. A pristine white tablecloth covered it. Laura Spencer's wedding china was sitting on the table, along with two champagne flutes and a bucket of ice with a bottle of soda inside.
Lucky Spencer stood on the porch, surveying the scene he had spent the entire day creating.
"What am I forgetting?" he muttered to himself, tapping his fingers impatiently against the railing. He spied the candles on the table that had been neglected as of yet, and bolted off the porch to remedy that. He was leaning over the last of the three, when Liz rounded the corner of the house and stopped in her tracks.
She couldn't force any words past her frozen throat. The vision of it all was enough to dazzle her. She swallowed convulsively a few times and cleared her throat.
Lucky jumped. He whirled to see Liz with her mouth half open and her eyes wide.
"Lucky? Did you do all this?" She took two steps toward him.
He shoved the lighter he had been using into his pocket and his fingertips brushed the black velvet box that rested at the very bottom.
"Uh, yeah."
Lucky took the five steps it required to meet her. He leaned over and brushed a chaste kiss on her cheek.
"You're early," he mock-accused. He shoved his hands into his pockets nervously. Again, he touched the little square box in his pocket. He closed his fist around it, allowing his fingers to touch the softness. His stomach flip flopped. He fought to concentrate on Liz, who was speaking to him.
"...know me, I never was any good at surprises. I couldn't wait any longer."
Lucky smiled involuntarily.
"Well, then, let me just get a few things ready and we'll be set."
Liz smiled and nodded, inwardly wondering what all the fuss was about.
Lucky jogged up to the porch and bent over the stereo, seconds later soft classical music was released into the twilight air. He then proceeded into the house and emerged with a covered silver tray.
"Mmm. Food!" Liz chirped, following Lucky to the table. He was setting the tray in the center of the table, as she reached over pull out her chair.
"No!"
Lucky's exclamation instantly froze Liz's hand. Her eyes flashed to his.
"No, wait," he said a little more calmly, releasing the tray and moving behind Liz's chair. "Let me."
Liz sat when he pulled out her chair for her. Her slight frown indicated her confusion. Lucky was seated and dishing food onto her plate before she had time to comment.
"Lucky, is something the matter?"
He tensed and slowly raised his gaze.
"No. No. Nothing. Nothing's the matter. Why?"
"You're just...acting weird. Is everything okay?"
"Fine, fine. Everything's fine."
She smiled awkwardly. "Ok. Because you know you could tell me-"
"I'm *fine*."
She smiled a relieved smile.
"Here, have some of this chicken. Lulu helped me make it."
"You and Lulu *made* this?"
"Don't sound so surprised."
"I am surprised."
"Pleasantly?"
"You know it."
**
The food was now long gone and the candles were melted by a few inches. The stereo had been changed to a slow blues-y CD, compliments of Lucky. The couple swayed slowly on the dance floor, barely moving. Darkness enveloped them. The candles were the only source of light, and they cast flickering shadows over everything.
"Dinner was lovely, Lucky," Liz murmured into Lucky's shoulder.
His arms were looped around her waist.
"Yeah," he replied absently.
"It was awfully nice for Lulu to help you cook."
"Uh huh."
"And for your parents to let us have the house for the night."
"Right."
"And if you don't tell me what's bugging you, I'm going to scream."
"Oka- what?"
Liz settled back in his embrace.
"I *thought* that would get your attention."
"But-"
Liz reached up and pressed her mouth to his, effectively silencing him.
"Will you *tell* me already?" she pleaded, breaking away from his mouth and fully pulling away from him.
"Okay, okay." Lucky twisted away from her, then whirled to face her immediately again. "I can do this," he said under his breath.
"Elizabeth..." he swallowed. "Baby..."
Liz looked up at him with shining eyes. "Yes?"
"Would you...that is...do me the honor...of -- of becoming my wife-"
He wasn't finished with his question when Liz launched herself into his arms, squealing so loud the neighbors could hear.
"Is that a yes?"
**
**
* you're just too good to be true. Can't take my eyes off of you.
You'd be like heaven to touch. I wanna hold you so much.
At long last love has arrived. And I thank god I'm alive.
You're just too good to be true. Can't take my eyes off of you.
Pardon the way that I stare. There's nothing else to compare.
The sight of you leaves me weak. There are no words left to speak.
But if you feel like I feel. Please let me know that it's real.
You're just too good to be true. Can't take my eyes off of you.
I love you baby, and if it's quite all right,
I need you baby to warm the lonely night. I love you baby.
Trust in me when I say: oh pretty baby, don't bring me down,
I pray. Oh pretty baby, now that I found you. Stay.
And let me love you, baby. Let me love you ...
* (chorus)
I love you baby, and if it's quite allright,
I need you baby to warm the lonely night. I love you baby.
Trust in me when I say: oh pretty baby, don't bring me down,
I pray. Oh pretty baby, now that I found you. Stay.
Oh pretty baby. Trust in me when I say: oh pretty baby ...
(Frankie Valli: Can't Take My Eyes Off of You" extra note: they used this song in "Conspiracy Theory", I LOVED that movie! [and Mel])
**
The clock above the mantle has just struck ten when Elizabeth Spencer rose from her seat on the couch. She sat the thick hardcover she'd been reading on the nearest end table and padded past Lucky - asleep in his easy chair -- into the darkened hallway that led to the bedroom wing of their small, but comfortable home.
She walked to the farthest end of the hallway, and stopped at a doorway. It cracked open under the influence of her hand, she stepped silently through the door and into the shadowed room.
The light from behind her was soft, muted, when it fell on the floor at her feet. The only other light in the room was coming from the moon, through the vertical blinds. It was pure and white.
Liz's eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room. Her gaze went to the boy sleeping in a twin sized bed. Soon she followed.
"Trey." His name fell from her lips, as she looked down on him. Moonlight fell across his face, throwing shadows around with wild abandon.
"Lucas the third," she whispered, rolling the name around in her mind.
She touched the cool sheets, brought them up to fully cover the five year olds body, as was a habit of hers. She couldn't resist touching his face -- his beautiful face -- so much like his father's, it was uncanny. From the color of his hair - her hand followed the path of her thoughts - to his forehead, his nose, his cheeks, his mouth. She knew that his eyes were the very same blue as his father's, held the same look of age-old innocence.
Liz reached down and tucked one of her son's hands under the covers. She brushed his hair from his face softly, and turned to the other bed that occupied the room.
"Lance."
She watched closely as his cherub-like face twitched. He rolled towards her on the bed, tangling his three year old frame in his sheets hopelessly. She reached out and her fingertips lightly caressed his cheek. His right hand immediately came up and grasped her fingers.
"Mommy?" came the sleepy, high-pitched whisper of a complaint. Liz was on her knees faster than lightning strikes.
"Hush, darlin'."
Eyes so blue you could sail a ship in the depths of their seas opened slowly. An elfin face creased with a smile.
"Mommy," he sighed, blinking a long blink.
"Ssh. I'm here. Right here."
He fought the Sandman off, wearily opening his tired eyes again.
"Sing," he slurred simply, squeezing her hand with all his might.
"Not tonight, baby," Liz cooed, running her other hand down his cheek lightly.
"Daddy will sing for me?"
Liz's heart contracted.
"Daddy's sleep-"
"-Y too, so we'll make this fast, little cowboy."
Lucky's voice from the doorway startled Liz enough to jump to her feet. She turned to her husband, opening her mouth to protest that they might wake Trey, but Lucky grinned a lopsided grin at her and her will melted.
"Mommy won't sing." Lucky stepped to Elizabeth and looked down on the pint-sized version of himself.
"Sure she will."
Liz made as if to protest but that resolved faded too, as Lucky slipped an arm around her shoulders and began singing the lullaby that he'd written on the night of Trey's birth.
The strains of his voice, soft and tender, reached into her soul. Before she realized what she was doing, her own voice was harmonizing with his, lifting the melody.
Liz looked down on her "baby" as the lullaby ended. He was fast asleep, his breathing even.
"Come to bed, baby," Lucky muttered directly in her ear.
"One more look," Liz demanded as they exited the boys room. She turned back to the setting in the moonlight. Lucky's arm slipped about her waist and his chin rested on her shoulder.
"It's perfect?" His voice resonated in her ear.
"It's perfect."
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