the No Name
Carly laughed, low and in her throat. Her hand slid up from her her husband's shoulder to cup his chin as she forcibly moved his head up and down. "When I ask you a question like that, baby, all you do is just smile that sexy smile and nod your head. Anything else and I'm liable to get moody." Sonny grinned, slowly, moving his palm more securely against the small of Carly's back, and pressing her body firmly against his. "Does moody mean I'm sleepin' on the couch?" he asked, nibbling gently on her earlobe.
Carly arched her throat slightly, continuing to sway to the music, their bodies moving of one accord. "You sleep anywhere but in our bed, and I'll show you what moody REALLY means, Corinthos," she warned, unable to keep from grinning. "Especially tonight."
Sonny tilted his head to look at her, his wife of a thousand surprises. "What's tonight?" he asked, looking into her dancing eyes.
Carly stopped dancing and took a deep breath. She slid her hands in her husband's and led him back to their table. "Tonight's the night I give you your surprise," she smiled, tentatively, and reached for his hand. "Surprise?" Sonny lifted his eyebrows and grinned. "Why is it, Caroline, that when you say that word, my heart starts pounding?"
Carly tucked one leg under her body, sliding her chair close to him as she sat down. "'Cause you know me too well," she teased, and then took another breath, letting it out slowly. She lifted their intertwined hands from the table and placed them on her stomach. Slowly, carefully, hesitantly, she lifted her eyes to his. "I'm pregnant, Sonny. Surprise!"
Sonny's eyes closed, carefully, and he spoke, long moments later, his voice thick and rusty with emotion. "Say that again."
"You're gonna be a daddy, Sonny. I'm pregnant," her voice trailed off into a whisper as she waited her husband's reaction. This was it; this was everything. This was the moment when she knew whether or not they'd make it. Whether or not forever really meant just that.
Sonny opened his eyes, and Carly expelled the breath she'd been holding in a big 'whoosh'. Everything she needed, it was there, in his eyes. Deep and abiding love, commitment, desire, burgeoning joy, and something she didn't think she'd ever seen there before -- something awfully close to peace. He reached out, pulling her out of her chair and half into his lap, one arm protectively cradling her against him, the other still splayed against her stomach. Sonny dropped his head, letting his forehead rest against hers. "Oh, sweetheart," he whispered. "I love you so much, Carly Corin--"
Carly lifted her head as his words broke off, and a muffled gargling sound emerged from his throat. "Sonny?" Her eyes widened in horror as his hand dropped numbly from her back and a slow trickle of blood emerged from his mouth. "Oh my god," she scrambled from his lap, watching in horror as a large red stain spread across the crisp white of his shirt. "Sonny!" She screamed frantically, kneeling beside him, her hands pressed to his chest. "Sonny! Someone help me! Sonny! Sonny! Son...."
....Carly sat bolt upright in bed, still tasting fear and her husband's name on her lips. One hand rose to cover her heart; she stopped herself, barely, from reaching out to the side of the bed where Sonny hadn't slept in months. As her breathing finally began to slow back down, Carly dragged a hand through her damp, tangled hair, pushing it back off her face, and sank back against the headboard. "Fuck," she swore, staring sightlessly ahead.
She hadn't had one of the nightmares in weeks, and she hadn't had one like this in months. These were the worst, the ones that started off with her most cherished memories of Sonny and twisted them all out of recognition into something horrific. Carly threw off her covers restlessly, slipping out of bed. She walked over to the window, one hand rubbing her eyes. She knew what this was; it was because of Mike. Seeing him last night had opened that door she kept shut and locked, the door behind which Sonny still lived and breathed. She stared out the window a long moment, focusing on nothing in particular, then swore again.
Carly turned determinedly away from the window; she was not gonna do this. She wasn't going back there, not for anyone or anything. She had sworn that the moment she held her daughter in her arms. Carly grabbed a pencil and piece of paper from the nightstand and scribbled a quick note, grabbing it and a duffel bag and heading into the kitchen. She left the note propped up where Latecia would see it when she woke up. Dialing the cab company, Carly grabbed a pair of leggings out of the bag, pulling them on as she ruthlessly tugged her hair into a ponytail. "Charlie, I need you to pick me up....Yeah," she gripped the edges of the kitchen chair tightly, "now."
bike shop
"Oookay." The make-up designer took a step back from the folding chair, examining Gia carefully. He motioned her to close her eyes, and dipped a small brush into a pot of golden eye shadow, and touched up a minuscule line on her left eyelid. Tilting her chin up, he moved her from side to side then stepped back. "You're done, doll baby," he stifled a yawn, then apologized quickly. "Sorry, sweet thing, it isn't you. You're just as gorgeous as always. But," he lowered his lips close to her ear conspiratorially, "it is just way too early in the morning for us creative types." He rolled his eyes.
Gia laughed. "You're tellin' me. But, they wanted to get the sunrise behind the bike," she shrugged. "I just show up and keep my mouth shut."
"I hear that, girl." He high-fived her, and went back to packing his supplies.
Gia stood up, restless. She examined herself in the mirror for a moment, tugging at the strap of the blood-red leather bustier-dress they'd laced her in. Gold strands had between threaded through her braids, and her hair was tousled about her face. Her eyes were lined with heavy kohl and a sparkly gold powder; her lips matched her gown. "Dangerous," she murmured, touching two fingers to the mirror. After a moment, she straightened up, and headed to the door of the shop, calling to the photographer. "I'm going to go outside for a second, get some fresh air, okay?"
He waved his hand in Gia's direction. "Take your time, sweetheart; the shot's not gonna be ready for another fifteen minutes or so. We'll call you when we're ready."
Gia nodded and slipped out the door, first grimacing as the cold air hit her, then closing her eyes and letting the early-morning cold clear her head. Her head hadn't felt clear in days. Weeks. Months. First she'd been so wrapped up in Nikolas she couldn't see straight. Then, she'd been so angry at Nikolas she couldn't see straight. And, now, she was so screwed up that she didn't even know what seeing straight looked like anymore.
"You look good." Gia jumped and opened her eyes, whirling around.
Her eyes immediately narrowed, and she crossed her arms. "What the hell are you doing here, Jason?" Gia demanded, glaring at the man leaning against the railing and watching her. "Are you stalking me?"
Jason shook his head once. "No," was all he offered, returning her gaze calmly.
"Then what the hell are you--" She stopped as her eyes fell to the bike helmet in his hand, the bike parked beside him. Gia glanced behind her at the signboard of the shop 'Jason's Bike Shop'. She closed her eyes briefly. "This is your shop." It wasn't a question.
Jason nodded. "Yeah. I don't work here anymore, but I still own it."
Gia nodded. "Perfect. Nice of Carly to mention that one." She blew out a sharp breath threw clenched teeth. "You knew we were doing this shoot here today, right?" Jason nodded. "Then, why? Why did you come here?"
Jason pushed off the railing and took a step towards her. "I wanted to see you," he said, simply.
"Why??" Gia demanded, her voice despairing. "Look, Jason, we had this one night. And, the sex was good. Okay, it was really good, but that's not the point. It was One. Night. And, I just broke up with my boyfriend. At best, you'd be just, like, this rebound-boy."
Jason grinned, suddenly, the smile totally changing his face. "Is rebound-boy kinda like being a boy on the side? 'Cause I've been that before; it wasn't so bad."
Gia couldn't help it; she smiled back. "Jason!" She half-stamped the toe of her thigh-high biker's boots. "What do you want from me?"
He took another step towards her, reaching out and twisting one of her braids around his finger. Jason looked at the gold thread winding through it bemusedly, then lowered his eyes to hers. "I want more than one night," he said, quietly. "I want to know what you look like when your eyes aren't so sad."
Gia stamped her foot again, but without force. "Jason," she half-whispered. She was silent a long moment, then started when she heard someone calling her name. Gia turned her head, gesturing back at the shop where a motorcycle was now set up in front of the water. "I have to go."
Jason nodded. "I'll wait."
"It might be," she bit her lip, heedless of her make-up, "Jason, it might be a long wait."
He nodded again, and gave a small shrug, loosing her hair from his fingers. "I've got time."
"I--okay," Gia stepped back, hands clasped behind her back. She turned as she heard her name called a second time. "Coming," she called back. She looked at Jason. "You can watch if you want. As long as you don't trip over anything, or do anything stupid."
Jason grinned again. "I'll watch from here. Hey, Gia," she looked back over her shoulder, "you really do look good."
Gia's smile was full, and for a brief moment, real. She performed a quick shimmy and the crew behind her broke into good-natured catcalls. "Don't you know it, baby," she laughed, suddenly seeing clearly. "Don't you know it!"
Alexis' suite
Alexis drew her robe more tightly about her stomach as she perched on the edge of the bed, looking down with a sigh. Of all the stupid, thoughtless, foolhardy things for her to do... Her fingers flexed back and forth, and she reached out, involuntarily, to stroke his cheek. He looked about five years old when he slept; she envied him that. Even in sleep, she had no access to her childhood. But, then, he always had seemed to own the things she lacked. Openness, a sense of security, knowledge of the word 'home'. An awareness that no matter where he walked in this world, he knew who he was and where he was going.
It was that, that sense of certainty, that drew her to him more than anything else. His sunshine smile that refused to allow doubt -- to Alexis Davis, who'd lived in a world characterized by shadows and secrets and doubts all her life, nothing on this earth made more sense than him. And, nothing she'd ever done made less sense than what they'd done last night. Alexis stilled, her hand cupping his cheek. "Oh, Jax," she breathed, watching the sleeping form of her ex-husband, "what have we done?"
~"Alexis." Jax's tired voice stopped her. "You know better than that. You saw her face. She doesn't want this marriage or this baby, god help us both, any more than I do. One week ago, I was about to ask her for a divorce, and instead, my wife tells me she's pregnant." His grip on her hand was very tight. "How the bloody hell did my life turn into this?"
Alexis didn't move; she didn't have any answers. The only thing she knew to do was to grip his hand back, just as tightly. "Jax," she murmured, a long space later, wrapping her free arm around his shoulders, "come on. You don't want to sit here any longer; I'll take you home."
He looked up at her, his blue eyes dark. "Home? To my wife?" Jax laughed, bitterly. Nonetheless, he rose. "I'm not going there."
"Fine," Alexis linked her arm through his, sliding it around his waist. "Then I'll take you back to my apartment; you can sleep, figure out what you're going to do in the morning."
"Everything'll look brighter in the morning?" Jax laughed a second time. "You were never the cliché type, Alexis."
"I know," she shook her head, ruefully, steering him towards the door. "A certain ex-husband of mine must have rubbed off on me."
He was silent until they stood by her car in the parking deck, then Jax turned to her fiercely. "Just so we're all clear here, my wife is in love with AJ Quartermaine, correct?"
"Jax..."
"Don't lie to me, Alexis," he gripped her arm. "I don't think I could handle it if you began lying to me."
Alexis sighed. "It certainly appears that she has -- some kind of feelings for him. But is it love?" She shrugged. "I don't know, Jax. Hannah's the only person who can answer that question. It wouldn't be fair for me--"
"Don't talk to me about fair play," Jax bit out, viciously. "I played by the rules this time, Alexis. Our wedding wasn't in Vegas, it wasn't false. I walked into this thing intending to be a good husband, expecting that Hannah intended to be a good wife. And what happened?" He lifted his arms, spreading them wide. "My wife's in love with another man, she's pregnant with a baby that may or may not be mine, and I -- I am sick and bloody tired of fair." He looked at Alexis, then reached out suddenly, grasping her forearms and pulling her hard against him. "I don't want to play fair anymore," Jax murmured, a moment before his lips crashed into hers.
And, they hadn't. What they had done last night had been everything but fair. Alexis sighed, softly, and closed her eyes. Despite that, despite the fact that he was married, and she'd had no rights to be with him, she couldn't make herself regret what they'd done. Her eyes opened, slowly, as she heard him stir, and she snatched her hand away from his cheek, standing up quickly.
Jax opened his eyes, grimacing slightly as the early morning light hit his face. The grimace faded, slowly as he looked up at the woman looking down at him. "Alexis," he said softly. "You look beautiful in the morning."
Her eyes closed again, and she grasped the collar of her robe, drawing it tightly about her throat. "Jax, you can't, you can't say things like that." Alexis opened her eyes, but she didn't look at him. "You know you can't."
Jax sat up, the sheet sliding down to bare his chest. "Alexis, the only thing I know is that last night was--"
"Wrong," she said, flatly.
He slid out of bed, standing up and moving to her side in a flash. "No," Jax insisted, strongly. "No." He gripped her shoulders gently, forcing her to look at him. "Alexis, listen to me. There's been a bond growing between us for a long time; we both know that. If it hadn't been for Chloe or Ned, what happened would have happened a lot sooner. Should have. Last night wasn't wrong." He slipped two fingers underneath her chin, lifting it lightly. "It was just -- next."
Alexis shook her head, moving it out of his grasp. "Things aren't the same as they were, Jax. You're married."
He made a small, explosive noise. "We both know the truth of my marriage, Alexis. Don't let that be an excuse between us."
"There's a child," Alexis' words rode over the rest of what he had been about to say. "That changes everything, and you know that. "Priorities change, everything changes now that Hannah's pregnant. You asked me not to lie to you last night. I'm asking you not to lie to me, now."
Jax was silent; he couldn't deny the truth of her words. "I don't even know if the baby's mine," he protested, but even he could hear the weakness of that argument.
"But it could be. It could be, Jax. And, we both know that as well." Alexis turned her back on him; she watched the sun rising slowly through the clouds. "I won't be the reason you leave your child. And, I most definitely won't be your excuse."
He made one last attempt, reaching for her shoulders. "Alexis, that's not what you--"
"Jax," she cut through his words again, still not turning to face him, "I need you to go." The door closed, not quietly, a few moments later, and Alexis finally allowed herself to move. She turned from the window, looking at the bed with it's crumpled sheets and the discarded tie still lying beside the bed. She made no move to pick it up, just stood staring. "Well," Alexis murmured, her words echoing in the empty room that felt so much more empty than it had ever been before this moment. "That's that. That's -- that."
