With a cry of outrage, she bucked beneath him, managing to slip from the couch before he could catch his balance. Trembling, on the verge of total collapse, she hugged her arms around her torso and tried to calm herself. When she thought she could do so without shrieking, she spoke, "No husband!"

Relieved, he slid around to sit on the couch, smoothing back his golden hair with both hands. "Oh, really." He believed her, but why did he feel like his world had suddenly been ripped apart upon learning that Brenda had a child? Was it because it wasn't his?

Jax's tone was insulting to say the least, but Brenda was too terrified of Jax learning the truth about JJ to challenge him on it. JJ only slept a few feet away, and under no circumstances 3could she allow Jax to discover that he had a son.

His face seemed carved of stone. "Boy or girl?" he asked wearily.

She was afraid of this. "That's really none of your business."

"Most people don't take offense at such a simple and obvious question." He cocked his head and looked at her without warmth. "What are you hiding, Brenda? Is there more than one?"

Terrified by his probing expression, Brenda cast about for some way to throw him off the track. Without conscious decision, she settled on the obvious. "Why are you giving me the third degree, Jax? You're the one who's married, not me," she stated flatly.

She watched the color drain from his face. He stood up, his movements jerky, where before they'd been graceful and easy. She straightened her shoulders, refusing to flinch before the dark fury of his gaze. "How many children do *you* have?" she challenged him.

For a moment, he simply stared at her. Swallowing deeply he then said, "None... now." And without another word, he brushed past her and out of her little house.

For a long time, Brenda stood there, trembling. Her mouth felt bruised from his kisses, and her body tingled from the memory of his touch, imprinted years ago and brought back now with a vengeance. Something had just happened here that she didn't understand. She saw the flicker of pain in Jax's eyes, and it hurt her to see him this way. He was hurting, and she didn't know why. But whatever it was, she dared not take the chance of letting Jax see JJ and perhaps guessing the truth.

Possessiveness?

***********************

JJ stumbled into the kitchen the next morning, rubbing his eyes with one fist. "See, Mommy," he mumbled. "I told you I'd hurry." Brenda gave him a big bear hug. "You're my best boy, JJ."

"I'm your only boy, Mommy," he grinned sleepily.

Smiling at her son's intelligence, Brenda went on, "I know, sweetie, but Mommy's plans have changed a little."

"Yeah?" He almost knocked over his chair, getting his drowsy self seated. He scooted his bowl of cereal closer, then picked up his spoon.

Brenda poured the milk. "I've decided that you deserve a special treat, so I'm taking you to Aunt Lois's and Uncle Jared's today for a little vacation fun. How does that sound to you?"

JJ blinked owlishly. "But I thought-"

"I know, sweetheart," Brenda answered, anticipating her son's objections. "But I've got to grow up someday, don't I? I know I'm going to miss you like crazy, but I'll come to see you on my days off. It'll help, knowing you're having a wonderful time. And you will – just wait and see!"

"Oh, sure." JJ shoveled a spoonful of multicolored cereal nuggets into his mouth. "I'm not worried about that. I always have a great time at Uncle Jared's. It's just that... I'm worried about you."

He sounded so grownup when he said that; like the man of the house. Brenda blinked furiously to keep her tears at bay. She was doing this for him, because she loved him and didn't want to lose him. They'd never been separated overnight before, but she'd just have to be brave. This was bound to happen sooner or later, though she'd always assumed it would be under different circumstances.

His clothes were already packed, she'd spoken to Lois, who'd been surprised but pleased to hear that he was coming so soon, and she'd called in sick at the Miner's Point. She was glad she still had a job to call off from, considering the tension between her and Jax. And, well… last night certainly didn't help matters in the least…

  ****(A few days ago, at Miner's Point)

When he'd summoned her into his office, minutes before quitting time, she was almost relieved to confront him. She stood before his big, wooden desk and waited, trying to prepare herself for anything, but expecting only one thing: to be fired.

He leaned back in the old-fashioned office chair, his gaze on her steady and filled with speculation. "Grover tells me that you're his resident expert on local history," he said. "On the ship-"

She caught her breath sharply, her eyes opening wider. "Do we really have to relive that experience again?" Oh, dear – she shouldn't sound so pleading.

"Does it make you that uncomfortable?" he asked, narrowing his eyes as he studied her closely.

If he only he knew how uncomfortable remembering made her, she thought, but she shook her head with denial. "Not at all. It just seems to me that we'd be better off letting bygones be bygones."

For a moment he met her gaze, his own narrow and thoughtful. "Okay, if you can do that – well, never mind… I only brought up the ship because that's where you told me the stories".

"What stories?" she asked, puzzled as to where all of this was leading.

"About ghosts in Port Charles," he answered matter-of-factly. "All day long I've been trying to remember."

Brenda felt both relieved and disconcerted that he was referring to her ghost stories she'd told him. "Goodness, I hardly remember myself," she lied, remembering in full detail every word that passed between them back then.

"I suppose it must have meant more to me," he muttered caustically, his ocean blue eyes condemning her. "I seem to remember one about a ghost named... Kitty?"

She nodded, in her element again. "The Palace Hotel over on Bennett Avenue has a ghost believed to be that of a woman named Kitty Chambers, who died there about 1908. She hasn't been heard from since gambling brought in so many people years ago."

He shook his head. "That's not the one I was thinking about." He picked up a pencil and turned it between long, capable fingers. "What – or perhaps I should say 'who' – else is there?"

"There's George over at the Imperial," she suggested.

"A ghost named George?" he asked, his eyes twinkling.

The way he said it – with a lift of his eyebrows and a humorous tilt to his lips – reminded her of the Jasper Jacks that she'd fallen in love with… She swallowed hard. "They say George's wife killed him by hitting him over the head with a skillet. Since they lived at the Imperial Hotel, that's still his favorite haunt – so to speak."

Again Jax shook his head. "That's not the one either. The one I'm thinking of is a much more romantic story… something to do with a... a honeymoon. Or maybe it was a bridal suite? Something like that, anyway."

Brenda gasped, realizing he'd caught her in a trap of her own making. She remembered now; she'd told him about the ghost at Miner's Point. The hotel hadn't even reopened at the time, and was nothing more then a shattered shell of its former, glorious life. But the ghost was one of the best known in Port Charles, probably in all of New York."

Jax smiled. "Ah," he said softly. "I see you remembered."

Brenda nodded. "Of course, our ghost—"

"*Our* ghost?" he asked, his eyebrows arched at her choice of possessive pronoun.

"*Your* ghost then," she clarified. "I suppose you acquired him along with everything else when you bought the Miner's Point. Anyway, there used to be a honeymoon suite on the fourth floor here, but it wasn't refurbished before the hotel was reopened. Mr. Grover kept meaning to—"

Jax smiled at her ramblings. "The ghost story, Brenda."

"Of course, the story…" She lifted her gaze until she found herself staring at the flowered wallpaper border just below the high ceiling. It was easier then getting lost in those eyes of his. "Well," she began, "they say that a beautiful, young girl and a handsome, young man were to be married shortly after Miner's Point first opened in 1899. He was a miner, of course, one of many men trying to court her— unsuccessfully, until he made what everyone thought was a big gold strike."

"I sense tragedy," Jax said with raised eyebrows.

"I know few, if any, ghost stories that resulted from happily-ever-afters," she said tartly. "As the story goes, while the young couple exchanged their vows, they received bad news – the mine was a bust. Still, he was happy because he loved her. On the spot, he vowed to find another fortune for her."

"Poor Schmuck!" Jax muttered sarcastically.

Brenda's cheeks flushed. "Do you want to hear this or don't you?"

"I do, I do," he assured her, settling back in his chair to listen as she continued.

"The young wife seemed distracted, but she told her husband to go ahead to the bridal suite, that she'd join him shortly." Brenda bit her lip, returning her gaze resolutely to the narrow strip of flowered paper near the ceiling. "She never came."

"At this point in the original telling," Jax inserted, "I seem to remember putting my arms around you and kissing you and telling you there was no need to go on. I knew what happened next. She probably caught the first train to New York, while her discarded mate hanged himself from the chandelier, or some such horrible thing as that."

She met his cynical gaze at last. "Not exactly. She was run down in the street by a horse-and-carriage and died without telling anyone where she was going or what she had planned to do. Her husband was inconsolable, and he *did* hang himself. His ghost has wandered the halls of the Miner's Point ever since, but most of the sightings have been in or near the suite. The story goes that his spirit won't be free until a truly happy couple honeymoons there, which seems unlikely to happen since strange things keep causing the suite to remain closed."

"Strange – how?" Jax asked, leaning forward across the desk. "Have you ever seen him?"

"No," Brenda answered quietly. "I have." He wasn't smiling when he said it. "But then, I moved into his suite."

She couldn't have been more shocked. "You're living in the bridal suite?"

"Why not?" he asked, wondering why she seemed more surprised by where he was living than the fact that he'd seen a ghost. "Since it isn't in shape for guests, it seemed logical enough."

"Good heavens," she said faintly. "And you saw him?"

"I saw *someone* – a man dressed in old-fashioned clothing, who said his name was—"

"He *spoke* to you?" Brenda asked incredulously.

Jax nodded. "He said his name was Able, but nobody could tell me afterward who he might be or what he was doing in my private quarters." He smiled suddenly – that quick, warm smile she'd loved so. "Or maybe it was figment of my imagination. Who knows? Sometimes the line between dreams and reality is blurred."

"Yes, well..."She shifted uneasily, wondering if he was talking about the past or the present. "If there's nothing else-"

"There is, but it'll have to wait." He rose with casual grace. "I'm looking forward to hearing more about my new community." Her heart sank. Surely he didn't intend to force his company on her in the name of history.

He went on. "Oh, I'm sorry. I've been keeping you. It's a few minutes past your quitting time, isn't it?"

"I'll be working a half hour late," Brenda answered quietly. "To make up for my tardy arrival this morning." She stared at her feet as she added: "I guess this is as good a way as any to apologize for that."

"Three strikes," he reminded her softly, "and you're out."

Yeah right, he thought.

"You made that very clear at lunch." She lifted her chin. "If that's all...?"

"For the moment, Miss Barrett. For the moment…" he replied enigmatically, standing as she moved to leave. Walking out of his office, she could feel his gaze, sharp as a knife, between her shoulder blades.****

Gathering her thoughts as well as her courage, she knew couldn't falter now… not with so much at stake.