Chapter 51 - To beginnings

"Hey," he said gently. He ran a finger down her cheek. His expression softened, as her eyes fluttered open. "Home sweet home, beautiful."

"Hmm?" Gradually, her vision cleared, so that she could see a dimple wink in the dim light. "Hi."

An amused chuckle. "Hi."

"I fell asleep again, didn't I?" She stretched out her legs and arms, as far as the cockpit of his little MG would allow. Absently, she smoothed her riotous tresses. Then, she leaned in for a kiss. "Good night, Philip."

He pulled her closer to deepen the kiss. She giggled, when he nibbled a path along her jawline. "Mmm, fudge."

"Philip!" she laughed.

"Did I ever tell you I got a real weakness for girls that taste like ice-cream?"

She laughed again, this time breathlessly. She felt his hand creep up her ribcage. Sighing, she pulled back enough to kiss him more chastely on the cheek. "Later."

"There's that word again," muttered Philip. But he relented. At any moment, the Wesley porch light would flicker like mad. "Until tomorrow night, then?"

"Can't wait," she smiled, before she stole one more kiss and hopped out of the car.

With a besotted sigh, he watched that endless mane sway with each step. Tomorrow night. The big night. After a sweet wave from the doorway, Chloe disappeared into the Wesley fortress. Philip raked his fingers through his hair and smiled. Tomorrow night.

The car started with a happy rumble. Everything was set. The suit, the limo, dinner, everything. He'd meet the guys over at Belle's and pick up the girls for the Last Blast. The final dance before goodbye-high-school, hello-future. Unlike his buddy Shawn, he didn't worry too much about it.

Ole Phil was lucky. He was crown prince of Salem High. He was going to an Ivy like his dad wanted. Dictated. He had a close-knit group of friends, whom he could always depend on. And most importantly, he had Chloe. After his stupidity, her fears, Brady, Andrew, and the impending future, he still had Chloe. Yep, Philip was lucky. And after everything that had happened this year, he damn well knew it.

Man, he could not wait for tomorrow night. The little sports car came to a stop at an intersection. Just as he reached to turn on the radio, he noticed a little pink shopping bag on the passenger-side floor. With an extended arm, he picked up the small paper satchel. Ignoring the impatient car that honked then passed around him, he peeked inside. He grinned. Wow. He fingered the satin. Wow.

He could either, A: take it home and return it to her later, or B: drive back to Chloe's and return it to her now. And maybe get a sneak preview…

When the road was clear, he made a smooth U-turn.

He parked behind the giant oak and stepped out of his car. With the loops of the bag swinging from his fingers, he approached the house, gravitating toward that softly lit second-story window. He stopped in the middle of the walkway. He looked to the front door and then up to the window. Who was he kidding? He was about to turn toward their tree, when a shiny Mercedes pulled in behind its match on the driveway.

A sharply dressed man emerged from the sedan and strode up the walkway. His eyebrows lifted a bit. "Philip."

The boy resisted a gulp. "Dr. Wesley." When Chloe's stepfather arched a brow at the pink bag, Philip explained, "Uh, Chloe left this in the car."

Craig gave what could possibly have been a smirk. The moment stretched on.

Torturously for Philip. He felt his palms start to sweat under paternal scrutiny. But Philip held fast, met the stare, unflinching. A Kiriakis did not cower. Ever.

"So, I hear you're going to Princeton," Craig began finally after what seemed an eternity.

"That's right," replied Philip as confidently as he could but remained on guard. The Wesleys had never liked him. They'd made that sentiment quite plain.

"Not too far from where Chloe's going to school," continued Craig. With the grace of a panther, he crossed his arms. "Let me get right to the point. My wife and I are concerned. This experience - Juilliard, New York, college - is a very important opportunity for Chloe. Not just for her education and her music, but her growth as a person. This is her chance to grow beyond Salem and everything that's she known until now. You following me here, Philip?"

The boy's brows furrowed, his muscles tensed.

Craig gave him a piercing look. "We don't want you isolating Chloe. We realize how she feels for you and how much time she's willing to devote to you. That's what we're worried about. That all she'll know is you." A pause. Then, the older man sighed. "We know you care for her-"

"I…" Philip felt the pressure of that gaze bore into his own. He couldn't look away, honor-bound or no. "I-I love her."

Craig sighed once more and shook his head. "Mr. Kiriakis-"

"You think I don't know that I don't deserve her?" Philip blurted out. "That I'm not good enough for her? Well, I know that, ok?" This conversation had blindsided him and spurred his emotions to the surface. "I know I don't have a freaking clue about opera. Hell, I don't even think I like opera, unless she's singing it. And I don't know what it's like to not have money or p-parents." He blathered on, inwardly hoping he wouldn't heave up his supper. Or get himself throttled. "B-But I know I love Chloe. And I'll do whatever it takes to make her happy." Philip stopped, before he embarrassed himself any further, but forced himself to look Chloe's father in the eye.

And there the two stood, once again staring at one another, as the moment stretched.

"Well," announced Craig, at last breaking the charged silence, "I appreciate you letting me know where you stand." He coolly gestured to the pink bag and held out a hand expectantly. "Good night, Philip."

The boy blinked in confusion. "But Dr. Wesley…" He blinked again, mouth slightly agape.

"Was there something else?"

Philip's forehead creased. "I guess not." And he handed over the bag.

Craig nodded. "Good night, then."

"Did you find them, Bo?" called Shawn's mother from upstairs.

Shawn's father grunted, wearily eyeing all of the open drawers and cabinets in the living room. "Not yet!" Thinking he'd prefer sifting through a crime scene, Bo rifled some more for the lost supply of 35mm film.

"I could've sworn…" complained Hope from above, accompanied by intermittent clinks and clangs, "I bought a couple dozen last week just for Shawn's dance… and then there's graduation… oh, where did I put them?" Some more clatter from above.

"Uh, that's ok, Mom, Dad," called their son, who was busy changing into his tux in his room, "There's gonna be a photographer at the dance. Uh, I mean, Belle and I could just order more copies-"

"Found them!" cried Hope.

"Damn it."

Bo's ears perked up.

"What was that, Shawn?" asked his mother absently in happy relief.

"Uh, I said, golly gee, that's so great, Mom."

Bo gave a curious look up the stairs.

"They were stuffed all the way in the back of the linen closet," chuckled Shawn's mother, "What was I thinking? Must have been one of those days. Whew. Good thing we found them. We're due at the penthouse in a half-hour. And I want tons of pictures of your big night. Oh, you two are going to look so darling…"

Amused, Bo shook his head. Nice try, kid. Like father…

"Yeah, Mom," replied Shawn with a shaky laugh, "Great."

Bo grinned. Like son.

"I gotta go, Mom."

Standing two steps up the staircase, little Katie gave a final tug on her brother's tie, while their mother took the last photo.

"Oh," exclaimed their mother, snatching up the corsage from the hall table, "Don't forget this. And drive extra careful tonight. With all the excitement, people on the road might not be so mindful. And-"

"Mom," sighed an exasperated Jason, after another honk came from outside, "I gotta go." He quickly kissed his mother on the cheek and gave a quick ruffle to his baby sister's head. "See you, tomorrow." And took up the corsage and walked out to the waiting limo.

"Oh," sniffed his misty eyed mother, watching from the doorway.

"He looks so awesome," grinned Katie, "She's gonna die, when she sees him."

"Hey, dudes."

"Hey, Phil," greeted his buddies in the lobby of Belle's home. Then, the boys looked curiously at the uniformed man, standing beside Philip. "Hi, Henderson. You chaperoning tonight?"

The butler smiled. "Thankfully, no, gentlemen." He raised his digital camera. "I'll play the role of photographer tonight, before I return to my duties."

In his black and white Italian tuxedo suit, Philip rolled his eyes. After a blinding marathon of photos, his mother had been dead-set on getting at least one photo of her most beloved son and his date - a girl who naturally would never be worthy but would do for tonight's purpose. After all, the son of the most powerful man in Salem could hardly go stag to a formal social event, now could he? Therefore, the irrepressible Kate Roberts sent Henderson in her stead to further document Kiriakis virility.

"Alright, kids," announced Shawn's mother behind them. She was slightly breathless from loading as much film as she could into the multiple cameras. Her husband simply smiled and kept his comments to himself. "Ready?"

"Uh…"

"Wow…"

"Damn…"

The adults chuckled quietly, as the three teenage boys stood agape. As each respective girl, dazzling and gorgeous, descended the curved staircase.

"B-Belle," Shawn stuttered at the delicate spaghetti straps on dainty shoulders and blush pink dress hugging her bust, then falling along the lines of her body. She'd never looked so…

Bo gave his wide-eyed son an encouraging elbow in the ribs.

"Oh, yeah!" Shawn fumbled with the corsage and eventually managed to slip it over her wrist.

Charmed, Belle leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you. So, do you."

As Mimi carefully pinned the boutonnière to his jacket, Jason tried to keep his eyes from wandering. But he was only human and the satiny gold dress clung to every curve and left the shoulders bare. He sighed. God bless vision.

"There," beamed Mimi, admiring her work. Her cheeks flushed, when he reached out to tug on a silky tress.

With a somewhat lopsided grin, he offered an elbow. For Jason and his pen, the words would come later.

Philip pulled Chloe close, careful not to crush the flowers she'd secured to his lapel. He laid a kiss to the one bare shoulder and whispered, "Beautiful."

Wrapped in royal velvet and lavender silk, Chloe smiled. "Handsome."

"Have fun, kids!" shouted Shawn's parents, before their car rumbled off toward home. Belle's parents would meet them at the dance. Like every other school trip or dance in Belle's memory, John Black and Dr. Marlena Evans volunteered as chaperones.

But on a night like tonight, not even parental presence could tarnish it.

In the rented limo, the girls giggled and resumed gossip, while the boys shifted a bit in their formal attire. Jason resisted tugging on his collar. Give him a mesh tank and shorts any day. How 007 comfortably macked in this gear was beyond him. He looked down, when Mimi quite naturally rested a hand on his knee, while she chattered animatedly with Belle about tonight's senior class votes. Her perfectly manicured nails shimmered against his charcoal slacks. Hmm. He slipped a light arm around her shoulders and exchanged a silly grin with her. Welles. Jason Welles, at his lady's service.

"Hey," interjected Shawn from the opposite seat, "Where're they going?"

"Huh?" Jason followed his buddy's gaze through the tinted windows. And saw the other black stretch turn a corner, away from the designated restaurant. "Hey, where's K-Man going?"

"You know I let you win, right?" Philip tried a sad hand at pouting. Accompanied by a treacherous dimple.

Chloe laughed. "Once again, Chloe Lane reigns as thumb-war champion." She still had no clue where he was taking her and it didn't really matter. They were together. "Give it up, Kiriakis," she taunted in jest, "Stick to what you're good at."

"Oh?" He leaned in, only a hair's breath away from contact. "What would that be?"

Though her cheeks flushed, her lips curved into a seductive smile. She only knew this kind of confidence, when she was alone with him. Sebastian had been considerate enough to keep the partition raised for tonight, as the limo cruised toward the waterside. "Well…" she hummed. And preceded to elaborate.

"Wow. Check out this place." With an arm looped with Belle's, Mimi surveyed the gym-turned-ballroom. The boys had gone to grunt with their teammates, while she and Belle had been herded off by other girls to the powder/conference room. Their dresses were a rousing success. Nonetheless, more than one girl had looked on with envy at homeless Mimi's classic gown.

"Never know what you'll find at the Good Will, eh, Mimi?" Cynthia had jeered.

Belle had made a face and sighed. "Come on, Meems. She's so not worth it."

Cool as a proverbial cucumber, Mimi had given her reflection one last inspection and then capped her lipstick. Not granting the unworthy even an eyelash. Instead, she'd flashed her best friend an easy smile. "Let's see if my superjock can dance." With that, the two friends sailed passed those spiteful eyes to seek out their dates.

Despite skilled coaxing, Jason had looked as if he was being led to the guillotine. And once on the dance floor, he only shifted from foot to foot to Pink's litany of every girl.

Giggling at his efforts, his date drew close to virtually shout over the music. "Close your eyes."

"Huh?" he hollered in return.

"Close your eyes," she repeated, as her hands settled on his waist.

He threw her a doubtful expression. Dancing was simply not his forte. Couldn't they just go off to some dark corner and chill? I.e., make out?

She pinched him playfully in the gut. "Just do it."

He let out a discouraged sigh and relented. He felt her pull close and thought immediately that maybe this wasn't going to be that bad. From his shoulders, down his chest, her hands moved to the beat. Oh, he grinned silently, this definitely was not that bad. She giggled in his ear. Her towering heels brought the top of her head to his nose. He could smell a light burst of spicy fragrance, as she moved with him. His eyes opened, after the song ended.

She gave that teasing mouth a quick kiss and smiled up at him.

"Whoa, Jase," said Shawn, who'd arrived with a glistening Belle by his side. Unlike his buddy, Shawn loved to dance. "I thought you didn't dance. Didn't know you could move like that."

"Huh?" Jason's face contorted in mystification, as Shawn threw an arm over his shoulders.

The girls giggled. "Anybody thirsty?"

"Ladies," grinned Shawn, "Way ahead of you. Come on." He offered Belle his arm, after Jason offered Mimi his.

"But, Shawn, the punch is that way…" Belle shook her head, as they were led toward the locker room. "What-"

"Be right back," said Shawn. They'd stopped at the entrance.

"Ok," said Mimi, after their dates disappeared into the boys' locker room, "What are those two up to?"

Belle shrugged and tapped her dainty foot to the music.

"Alright, ladies," announced a returning Shawn, "We got it all," and held out an armful of chilled cans. "Cola? Grape Nehi? Peach? Sprite? Crème soda? What'll it be?"

With eyebrows high, Mimi looked at the boys, as if they'd sprouted antlers. "Uh, that's sweet that you fellows wanted to give us a selection, but there's punch-"

"Not taking any chances this time, Meems," Jason said, his eyes suddenly solemn.

"Got a mini cooler stashed in the back," explained Shawn, smiling as his Perfect Girl plucked her usual Pineapple soda. "It was Jase's idea."

"That's really sweet," commented Belle.

"Yeah," echoed Mimi and pressed a warm kiss to Jason's cheek, "It was."

Chloe sighed, tickling Philip's ear, as they moved slowly to the music. Their formal shoes creaked against the weatherworn wood beneath. The scent of endless candles, roses, and lilies melded with that of the night harbor air. Occasionally, a bell would toll with the oncoming breeze.

They'd returned to where it had all begun.

She was still overwhelmed. She looked over at the remnants of their dinner and wondered how Philip had gotten a table, chairs, and more candles and flowers than she'd ever seen in her life on the dock. But Philip Kiriakis knew little of limitation. Only possibility. Possibility. How wondrous a thing it was. How hopeful.

"Hey," whispered Philip, interrupting her ponderings, "Uh, could we sit down a minute?"

She realized then that the music had stopped. She smiled. "Sure."

He led her to a seat by their candlelit table. He hesitated, before he pulled a chair to sit down beside her. A moment passed. Then, he took her hands in his. And his were warm. And somewhat damp. "Uh…"

"Philip," she inquired softly, "What is it?"

He worked up a smile, but for a moment he couldn't quite meet her gaze. Then, he gradually reached inside the pocket of his jacket. And pulled out a tiny velvet square box.

Her intake of breath was audible. "Philip…"

"Don't freak out," he said quickly, "I-I mean, it's not what you think. I mean, I just wanted to give you something. Being this is our anniversary and all and…" He took a breath and opened the little box. A delicate ring of white gold was nestled there. At its center was a simple blossom encasing a little diamond in each of its four petals.

"Oh, Philip…" Her vision blurred, as she looked back at him, his eyes so endearing and sincere.

"I know it's kinda small, but the lady at the shop said-"

She jumped into his arms. Crying. In joy. "It's beautiful."

He gave a watery chuckle. "Uh, you wanna put it on?"

Eventually, she pulled back and watched as he slipped the ring on her right ring finger, linked directly to the heart. "Oh, Philip…" she whispered, feeling the tears well up again. "It's…"

"A promise," he finished. And kissed her. Then, lifted her up and spun her about.

She laughed and laughed, so happy was she. Possibility. Life was brimming with it.

Out of breath, he lowered her back to the ground.

"Philip?"

He rested his forehead against hers. "Yeah?"

"What are you doing next Wednesday night?"

He cocked a brow in question.

She smiled and linked her hands behind his neck. "Nancy and Craig, they were wondering, if you'd like to come over for dinner."