Alexis rubbed on her arms vigorously. It had gotten chilly in the room. Her bed was waiting for her, warm and cosy. And empty…
Where did that come from? she wondered.
“I know something much better you could be doing now rather than staring at the ‘miracle paint remover’”, a voice whispered in her ear.
Great. Hallucinations. And I didn’t even take the pill.
She knew there was no one there with her. She knew who the voice belonged to, Thalia, her best friend and roommate back in New York. The willowy blonde who’d left a trail of broken hearts behind her until she collided with the Stefan Cassadine Express. Became mistress number… who knows? Dreamt an impossible dream. Turned into a bitter blonde with the face of Alexis’ best friend. Soon became an ex best friend. Fled New York.
Alexis was tempted to add that to Laura’s tab. Though Stefan had kept her in the dark about his dalliance with his brother’s wife, part of her had suspected it, even then. However, even having more insight into what her brother’s frame of mind had been at the time she could not deny that Stefan had destroyed Thalia and Thalia had let him. Caught in the middle, Alexis had nearly lost them both. However, blood will always be thicker than water.
Alexis sighed. She could positively see Thalia there, the old Thalia. The one who laughed and flirted and changed men like shirts. And that old Thalia was suggesting better ways for her to spend the rest of the night.
What night? Soon it will be dawn.
“Yes, but guess who just got off work?”
If the club opened at all.
“Go there and find out.”
Alexis rubbed on her arms again trying not to think of burning manly hands that had managed to warm her up a lot more effectively the previous night.
“He won’t want me there,” she murmured.
Thalia was quiet.
Of course she was. Thalia was now a Christmas card. Pictures of the newest brat she’d had. A house in Long Island, a marriage to some guy named Todd that Alexis had never met. Thalia was a memory. Alive and well and so removed from Alexis she might as well be living in a different dimension.
With a sigh of resignation Alexis switched off the TV, went to her bedroom and started getting dressed. Would it have made any difference if she could talk about what she was doing with a friend? Would she care if they told her that this thing with Luke is pure madness? Or just because there was no one there to tell her, she was running head first towards that madness?
She checked her face in the bathroom mirror. Carly’s slap was no longer visible. She didn’t spend more time than necessary staring at her reflection. Her makeup still held on, mostly.
The man was still standing rooted on the spot, staring at the light from her apartment. And then the light was turned off. He breathed deeply, whether from relief or disappointment, he couldn’t tell. Free to go home, wrap himself in his pride and sleep with it. He only wished Felicia had not made use of the key he had given her in a moment of pure insanity. Perhaps he should change the lock. That would give too strong a message, however. He hoped Felicia would figure it out before it got to that.
He had turned on his heel to leave when he heard the front door open.
Wonderful, he thought. One of the Don’s men out in an after hours expedition… In heels?
He turned around, half-hoping, half-fearing it was just some woman one of Sonny’s men had taken to his apartment to show her his stamp collection.
From across the street, her eyes fell on him before he could make himself scarce. She quickly crossed the deserted road and stopped right in front of him. She mirrored his stance, crossing her hands in front of her chest and staring at him impassively.
He shrugged. “I was just in the neighbourhood.”
The corners of Alexis’ mouth quirked upwards. “Of course you were,” she murmured. She reached a gloved hand and brought his head lower, demanding a kiss.
Reynaldo’s jaw hit the floor. The two figures left together. He wondered how he was going to report this to Sonny. And also, why had Sonny told all the guards to be on the lookout for Luke Spencer? Was it because he knew about the affair and wasn’t comfortable with Spencer sniffing around his business? Was it that he wanted the leggy attorney all to himself? Or did he know nothing? In any case, the bodyguard though with an amused glint in his eyes, I have some pretty interesting things to report. Maybe I should also let something slip to Johnny. See if he’ll keep on giving her those puppy looks.
Port Charles at 4 AM was like a ghost town. Only two staggering drunks were treated to the sight of Luke and Alexis walking hand in hand.
Like a couple of teenagers, thought Luke with a snort. Although he had to admit to a silly warmth that enveloped at the thought. At the same time he couldn’t shake a feeling of unreality. It was late, he’d had a long day and back at the club he’d had more than a few. Instinctively he squeezed Alexis’ hand to assure himself of her presence.
Alexis turned and gave him a smile, lost in the darkness.
Neither seemed willing to be the first to break the silence that had fallen between them. Their bodies were less hesitant, fingers twining, shoulders brushing and heartbeats quickened, every fibre of their being was acknowledging the other person.
Luke’s arm rested on her shoulder, her arm snaked around his waist, sharing the body heat that was seeping through their clothes, walking fluidly like an odd, four legged beast.
Luke chuckled softly when he realised where she’d led them.
“Pining for the batcave?” he drawled.
The faint lights from Spoon Island indicated its existence amidst the combined darkness of sky and water.
Alexis let go of him with an icy glare and chose the bank under the only broken streetlamp. She sought the protective darkness leaving only her outline visible to Luke as she sat resting her chin on her fists.
Luke sat next to her and pressed the flat of his hand down her bowed back getting a low purr from her.
“Looks like I got myself a Cassa-cat.”
“A wildcat,” she murmured dreamily. “That’s what you called me, remember?”
“I still have those scratches. And some new ones you left on me. Felicia is starting to wonder why she hasn’t gotten any in a while.”
“Great. You’ve made me the other “other woman”.
Luke’s mouth found her pout. He caught her lower lip between his teeth and tugged gently. Her throat vibrated in another rumble making him wonder if she’d done that before and if she’d done it, how he hadn’t noticed it. He kissed the source of the sound making it louder. His hands mapped out the body of the woman next to him, rediscovering every single detail with the aid of his memory since she was still dressed up to the eyes.
He made no move to divest her of any clothes. In the freezing night air it was not a viable option. His touch never became too bold, echoing the near reverence she showed in her caresses.
Like a couple of teenagers, he thought again without any of the initial cynicism. Making out on a bank.
“What’s so funny?” she murmured.
“We both have nice, empty houses we could be doing this in. Not out here, freezing our butts off.”
Alexis chuckled against his prickly cheek. “Can’t you appreciate how romantic it is? After all, I found you standing under my window. About to serenade me no doubt…”
“And have Sonny show up with an uzi.”
“What makes you say that?” she said neutrally.
“He knows, doesn’t he?” said Luke, the teasing tone gone from his voice.
Alexis’ hand gripped the lapel of his coat. “It’s none of his business.”
“If it isn’t, why are we out here?”
She let go of his coat. Her whole body broke contact with his as she gathered her knees to her chest and closed her arms around them.
“Just say what you mean, for once in your life,” she said wearily.
“Are you in trouble with my ex-pal?”
“Nothing that should concern you,” she said dryly, pressing her chin against her knees.
Luke gave her a sideways glance and decided to let it rest. “It’s not safe here,” he drawled. “All sorts of unsavoury characters are bound to show up at some time or another.”
“Won’t you protect me?”
“No. I’ll tell them to go ahead and do as they please with you, it was your idea to come here.”
“You never fail to disappoint me.”
“Thank you. It takes hard work, you know. I just want you to understand that I’m not willing to slay any dragons for you, Princess.”
She scoffed. “I’ll do my own slaying, thank you very much. There were no knights in the bedtime stories I was told.”
Something twisted in Luke’s chest. He placed his hand on her shoulder then ran it down her arm. “Did Helena tell you bedtime stories leaving out the happy end?”
“Ha ha, my sides are splitting.” She paused breathing in deeply. When she spoke again her voice had a dreamy tone as she kept her eyes at the starlit sky. “Martha, our nanny, was from Northern Greece. The Balkans, fairly close to Romania, even with Bulgaria in between. The folklore of the region is rather… peculiar. So the fairy tales we were told were about bloodthirsty monsters and evil Princesses and brothers coming back from the dead to protect their sister’s honor.”
“Vampires?”
“Yes.”
“That’s horrible!”
She turned with a serene smile hardly visible in the bad light. “No! We loved those stories. The scarier the better. And Martha was a natural story-teller.”
“No wonder you’re both so screwed up,” he said under his breath.
Alexis shrugged. The comment had not offended her. On the contrary, she found it contained a measure of truth. She and Stefan were alike. Their similarity was lodged in a deeper level and many people missed it at first. But it was there and she would never have this with any other person in the world. Once more guilt tugged at her heart as Stefan’s message on her answering machine was replayed in her mind.
Luke followed her eyes although there was no need really. He knew she was staring at the faint lights from the island. He uncharacteristically held back a sarcastic comment about her jumping in the water to swim to Wydenmere.
What he felt eerily resembled jealousy. What gave him the right? When did he become so possessive of this woman who would not be seen with him in the light of day? Yeah right, Spencer! And you still haven’t cleared things up with Felicia. Alexis stuck around the other night. You woke up in the same bed and instead of having a nice morning boinking session you let her get away. You accused her of using you to get to her brother… So what if she did? You didn’t exactly have a hard time helping her out.
He prodded her again. He couldn’t help it, it was in his nature. “Let’s make out in front of your brother some more,” he whispered seductively in her ear.
She turned to face him, the flash of anger in her eyes stinging him like a slap. “This is getting old, Luke.”
“I’m way off, you mean? Port Charles in not that large but there are other places you could have picked to play tonsil hockey with me.”
“Your obsession with Stefan is sickening!” she hissed. “You want to f*** him? There he is! You don’t have to go through me!”
“Oh, I don’t? And if I decide to – and let me stress that I’m speaking figuratively here – f*** him, you’d do nothing to stop me? You let him get away with murdering your best friend. You’d sit back and watch me get even?”
“You’re not that stupid, Luke. You know Stefan is not the enemy here. So, is that your newest accusation? What’s my motive for… this thing with you, now? Am I spying on you to protect Stefan?” Luke was grateful for the dark. Alexis’ sneering tones hurt him enough without adding her bitter expression.
He turned his eyes up at the sky with a sigh. The stars were fainter on the canvas that had changed from pitch black to a velvet blue. Alexis’ knee was almost touching his. Their bodies seemed to disagree with their owner’s foolishness as they tried to get closer. Share warmth. Become one again as they only knew how.
Luke’s hand timidly reached and covered hers. He felt her gloved fist relax under his fingers.
“I had a rough day,” he murmured.
“Is that an apology?”
“Of course not.”
She pressed her forehead against his shoulder then pulled back as she was about to nestle her face in the crook of his neck. “Tell me about your day.”
Like hell I will, thought Luke but when he opened his mouth that was not what came out. He told her about cleaning up the club and how things were there, carefully leaving out his money trouble, about Felicia being on him all the time like a cheap suit, about the strange young man that had showed up at Luke’s that afternoon, wearing his Cowboy’s face.
He cleared his throat noisily. “I’ll kill her,” he said harshly.
“You have to find her first.”
“What,” his voice caught, “what do you think she’s done to him?”
Her gloved hand tickled the fine hairs on the nape of his neck as she stroke him gently. “I can’t imagine,” she lied. When it came to Helena the stories she could share would make all the monsters from Martha’s fairy tales run screaming for cover.
He took a deep breath. “It will be light soon.”
“Will you walk me home?”
“What? Are you afraid you’ll turn into a pumpkin?”
She laughed. “I think you’ve got your fairy tale references mixed.”
He laughed too. He knew why she wanted to go home. This thing between them belonged to the dark. It needed shadows and half truths and cruel accusations even though he’d broken the rules and poured his heart out to her a few minutes ago. Too late to do anything about that now except make sure that it would never happen again.
Hand in hand, seen mostly by sour-faced, unshaven street-sweepers they walked back to her place.
Reynaldo would not have to let anything slip to Johnny, who’d just started his shift when the two lovebirds parted in front of the building. They were on the other side of the road but he recognized them. Sonny’s expression when Johnny told him about Luke having been there the other night suddenly made perfect sense. He ducked under the counter when she passed to hide his flushed face.
Click, click, click – her heels, whoosh – the sliding doors opening – whoosh – the sliding doors closing and the unmistakable sound of the elevator going up and Johnny released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.
Great. You told on her to Sonny. You and your lectures to Reynaldo and Francis about respecting her privacy! Shame rose in his chest for his weird dream about her, mixed with a baffling urge to get out and kick Luke Spencer’s ass. What was a fine lady like her doing with that dirty old dog? Unwelcome images hit him. The kiss he’d witnessed had been chaste but it seemed that his imagination tended to go places where Ms Davis was concerned. Imagining her with Luke felt rather like a punch in the gut not hot and tingly like the other… fantasies… ways he had been picturing her ever since he had half-carried her across the hall from Sonny’s. He looked sadly at his half-eaten donut. No way he was going to finish it now.