Tell you 'bout the future
Of a heart that heals with time...
Still I see in you
Someone I once knew
Way back in the past
When my song had words
And the words were meant for you
Tell me when did our future end?

Now I see the truth staring out a window
At love gone astray
Running from herself
Trying to make believe
That it was just a dream
'Cause when love asks you
More than you can give
You find a way to disappear

~~~~~~~
Paris, France
Café de Éternité
mid-afternoon

Liz sank down into the iron patio chair and looked out at the clear Parisian sky. The sun shown so brightly that it nearly blinded her. She took a deep breath and let the brisk air fill her lungs. She shivered a little and pulled her ivory wool coat a bit tighter around her. It was one of those days where even the weather was contradictory.

She thumbed through the pages of her new book. One that she'd picked up in the hotel lobby that morning, after Alex had moped off in a huff. Off to take care of some "business."

Brushing a few fallen stands out of her face, she thought back to the evening before.

***
"Well that was the quickest walk I've ever taken," Elizabeth sighed, tugging off her expensive leather Prada boots.

Alex threw her an irritated glance, wondering if she even realized why he was angry. "Not like you wanted to be out there with me anyway Bethie, don't take it so hard."

Liz rolled her eyes and swept a hand through her dark hair, as she bent to open a drawer. Her senses instantly bombarded by satin and lace. 'This is what you packed for me Alex?...Typical,' she thought.

Negligee on top of negligee. Some she'd never even seen before. 'Happy day after Valentine's Day Elizabeth.' She picked the least revealing one out of the heap and threw it over her shoulder as she traipsed briskly towards the bathroom.

"Alex...you wanted to go for a walk. I went!" She shouted through the now closed door.

"Yeah, your body went, but I have no idea where the Hell the rest of you was....You wanna tell me where your head's been for the last few days?"

"I don't know what you're talking about Alex...I've been here with you. Where else could I possibly be? It's not like I'm allowed go anywhere without you," she shouted sarcastically.

"You know perfectly well you're allowed to go anywhere you please Elizabeth...don't start this with me again."

'Ah, Elizabeth now is it?' Liz thought, staring blankly into the three-sided mirror before her. 'Musta really pissed him off.'

She burst out of the bathroom a second later, folding her arms across her chest to hide what the lace didn't. "You could've packed me a robe," she said bluntly. Knowing that their current argument would be put off by whatever lustful thoughts had inspired him to pack all these nighties for her in the first place.

He stared down at her while she stood before him, even more beautiful than the day he'd first seen her in his hotel. It had been her first day at the hotel gallery and already she'd met her wit's end. He'd spotted her chewing on the end of a pencil, and pushing all the wrong buttons on a fully lit switchboard. Her confusion hadn't lasted long though. She'd always been a quick study.

Alex knew she wasn't going to move as long as he stood in front of her. She always got like this when she was angry with him. The little spitfire.

He moved closer to her, blocking her path. If she wanted to get past him, she'd have to brush against him.

The corners of his mouth turned up a few notches as she moved past him, her body creating the same burn in his that it always had when she touched him. He licked his lips as he watched her pink satin covered body sashay towards the king size bed. God, how he wanted her tonight. Needed her.

He felt like his life had been flipped over once again. Just as quickly as everything had happened for him, it could all come to and end. He wouldn't let that happen. He'd make certain of that.

Elizabeth quickly turned down the covers, knowing he was watching her from behind. Feeling his eyes creep across her flesh even before she felt his hands around her waist from behind. His right hand quickly snaked its way up her stomach and along her ribcage, finally coming to rest just under her left breast.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against her ear before nuzzling her neck. "I don't wanna fight with you right now Bethie," he sighed, cupping her in his hand. "That's the last thing I wanna do."

He pulled away from her an instant later, feeling her entire body tense under his touch. It was as if she'd just seen a huge spider crawl across the floor.

"What's the problem?" He asked, the edge in his voice apparent. Riddled with impatience. This wasn't the first time she'd reacted this way to his touch in the last few weeks.

Elizabeth licked her lips and stared at the Parisian skyline that loomed outside their great picture window, never turning to look back at her husband. God, if he only knew what the real problem was. The real reason she couldn't allow herself to be touched by him. It wasn't that she lacked the need for affection. She needed it...desperately. Just not from him.

"You didn't pack my pills did you?" She asked icily.

When all else fails, pick a fight. The rule to live by. It was a full proof defense mechanism that had worked her entire life.

'Well, with some people,' Liz reminded herself. A memory trying, yet failing to bubble to the surface. The times in her life when it hadn't worked, and who it had never seemed worked on. She shrugged it off. 'It always works with you, Alex.'

Elizabeth heard him sigh loudly and pull away. By the time she turned her head to look at him he was already on the other side of the bed.

"I looked on the bathroom counter and they weren't there." She continued at his stoic silence. "I should just start carrying them in my purse now right?.........God, Alex! You can't just do this to me, you know? You can't just NOT pack my birth control pills because YOU wanna have a baby. I don't want one now, ok? Can you understand that?"

"Whatever you say Bethie...fine," he said quietly, turning down his side of the bed.

He shook his head in frustration. Knowing that if he had been someone else, that they wouldn't be having this conversation. If he had been the love of his wife's life, they probably would have been working on kid number 2 by now. Alas, he wasn't lucky enough to be the owner of that title. He almost laughed at his own pun...Lucky...

"Alex can you please just try and und -

"I said FINE!" He exploded, causing her to nearly jump out of her skin.

Elizabeth rubbed her hands up and down her bare arms, trying to calm the shiver that had just run through her entire body. She watched him as he settled into bed, as he turned to his side facing the window and the table where he'd sat at silently only an hour before, reading the paper. She hated it when he did that. He could go from this quiet, peaceful man to a stick of dynamite in zero seconds flat. It scared her when he did that. Sometimes she felt like she didn't know him at all.

Tonight she didn't feel like she knew herself at all. She'd thought about Lucky more than she'd thought about him in years. It wasn't as if she hadn't thought about him throughout the past 3 years. She had. She'd thought about him at least twice a day, everyday. She thought about him in the morning when she got up and wasn't awaken by his kisses and in the evening when she went to bed and wasn't wrapped in his arms.

Then, a few weeks ago she'd begun to feel different. Almost as if Lucky were there with her. Watching her. She knew it had been a crazy thought. She hadn't seen or heard from Lucky in years...but then came the flowers.

Ever since those damned roses had come to the gallery she couldn't get him out of her mind or out of her heart. Every breath she took seemed to bring her another image, another flash of him. Their life together. It was all coming back. So quickly it hurt to breath sometimes.

Alex had been right. Her mind hadn't been anywhere near the Champs Elysees tonight. It'd been on Lucky. Thoughts of what could have been and what should have been. Memories of the past, and memories of how safe and loved she'd always felt in his arms. Why was it all coming back to her now? Why couldn't she shake him from her every thought?

She and Alex had gone to bed angry. Like they had so many nights. Like she and Lucky never had.

***

Elizabeth blinked against the bright European sun and pulled her shades over her eyes. She glanced around her quickly, that feeling of being watched suddenly settling over her body once again.

Strange that it didn't scare her. It didn't make her want to hide or run. There was something about the invisible gaze that she relished, that was oddly comforting. That she secretly wished would stay with her forever.

'Just your overactive imagination girl,' she thought, settling back to read her book.

Some tale of boy meets girl. Boy gets girl. Boy leaves girl.
~~~~~~~
Lucky moved slowly through the crowd of tourists, watching her as she pulled up her shades and opened the book that sat in her lap. Something wasn't right, and for once he didn't think it was the fact that he was staring at her like some idiot from across the street.

It was something about her eyes. Or more precisely the fact that he couldn't see them. The sight of Elizabeth Webber wearing sunglasses wasn't something a person saw everyday. Even on the sunniest of days she'd never worn them. She used to say it was because she didn't want to miss anything.

He remembered asking her what she meant, and her answering by saying that the colors of the sky and the trees and the flowers around her were all too miraculous to risk hindering them in any way. That she wanted to see all of it.

Lucky still remembered staring at her for a few moments the first time she'd said those words aloud. Half in bewilderment, and half in awe. A true artist in every sense of the word.

An artist that now wore sunglasses and sold her most cherished paintings.

'Maybe she doesn't cherish Miller's Pond so much anymore Spencer...ever thought of that? Maybe good old Alexander doesn't exactly appreciate the sentiment behind that one?' He thought, a sly smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

The smile disappeared as quickly as it had emerged as he began to wonder about how many other ways in which Elizabeth had changed. On the outside she was the same girl. Still beautiful, still laughing at her waiter's lame attempts at flirtation, still more radiant than the sun.

'Maybe she's moved on. Maybe you should too. Maybe, you following her here all the way to France is an extremely bad idea....

'Maybe you should stop thinking about this already and just walk over there.....'
~~~~~~~
Port Charles, New York
The Spencer Residence

Lulu settled down on the couch and pat the cushion beside her, motioning for Foster to jump up and join her. He licked the little girls' knees as he lay down next to her.

"Alrighty Foster," she smiled holding her small white envelope in front of his face. "Daddy says that you can steam open an envelope without tearing it or anything. It's a trick that all the cool spies use....So we're going to conduct a little sperament...Your job is to breathe on the seal....Go ahead Foster...just breathe."

Foster lay his head on her lap with a huff.

"Come on boy...you can do it," she said, patting his big skillet head. "Just breathe the way you do on Daddy when he yells at you....Come on..."

"LuLu, honey what are you doing?" Laura laughed, standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

LuLu sat the envelope down on the table, and pat Fosters' head again. She stared down at the dog in disappointment. "Aw, nuthin'...Foster doesn't like my sperament."

"Experiment, Honey....And Foster's probably just tired...Catch him after his nap."

"Ok," LuLu sighed, standing up from the couch and grabbing her letter.

"What do you have there?" Laura asked, raising a brow as she moved closer.

'As if you don't already know Laura,' she thought to herself. 'The same anonymous letter that comes every few months with your youngest son's handwriting.'

"That from your penpal?" Laura asked, sitting down in the loveseat and pulling her daughter into her lap.

LuLu nodded silently. She knew it was from her brother. She knew it was from her Lucky, but Mommy and Daddy didn't know that. If Lucky had wanted them to know, he would have sent them letters too, but he didn't.

"Are you gonna open it?" Laura asked, bouncing her little girl on her knee. She'd never asked her daughter to explain. She'd never even asked her what her "penpals" name was. But she was always just as excited as Leslie Lu was when she received her letters in the mail. It was her son's way of communicating with she and Luke as well. Or at least that's what she told herself.

"Yeah," LuLu said finally, tearing at the sealed envelope. Laura watched as she pulled the plain white stationary from its confines. Four unicorn stickers and two Tazmanian Devil press-on tattoos fell into her lap.

"Ooh," Laura smiled, trying to keep her tears at bay as she watched her child's face light up. "Looks like your penpal sent you some goodies."

"Eeeh! Yay! Luc -...I mean, my penpal always knows what I like!" She giggled.

"So what does he say?" Laura asked anxiously as her daughter perused the letter.

When she'd first started getting the letters, Laura had needed to help LuLu read them. This had been another comfort to Laura; Lucky had to have known that.

Laura's eyes filled with concern as her daughter's hand flew to her mouth. "What is it honey?"

"Mommy....he's coming to visit!"
~~~~~~~
Elizabeth glanced at her watch, and swore under her breath, realizing that she hadn't set it to France time. The sun was going down, and Alex was still nowhere to be seen. 'Guess you've really done it this time, huh Webber?' She asked herself silently. 'Why don't you just agree to have his damn babies, huh? What are you waiting for? The fairytale is over Elizabeth. The prince is gone and he ain't coming back...and neither is...'

She shook her head and sighed, closing her book. Thinking about old memories and what could have been weren't going to help her now. It never had. All she had now was her new life, and it was a life that any sane woman would kill for. 'No one ever accused you of being sane Webber.'

Elizabeth sighed again and placed a few bills to pay her tab upon the table. She was about to make that nice waiter's day, even though she'd only ordered water. Throwing around money was just about the only form of rebellion she was allowed to indulge in these days.

She'd walk back to the hotel and go to bed early. Sleep was just what the doctor ordered.

She would have done precisely that. She would have walked back to the hotel and followed those exact plans to the letter. But she couldn't.

She couldn't walk. She couldn't talk...Even taking a breath at that moment was a challenge. As was rationalizing the fact that the blue eyes that stared back at her from across the street belonged to the white knight she'd thought had forever disappeared from her fairytale.

"Lucky."

The word fell on the passing breeze in a whisper. She couldn't even be sure that it had come from her own mouth.

Before her feet could respond, he was on his way over. He was walking towards her. God, he was more beautiful than even she had remembered. How was that possible? How was it possible that her heart didn't jump out her chest at the rapid rate at which it beat?

This wasn't real. It was just another dream. She'd wake up any minute now.

Her limbs betrayed her thoughts even as she willed them to stay exactly where they were. They began to walk towards him, in a world that had begun to move in slow motion.

The breeze blew through his hair, and she saw him rake it back with his hand. A move that had always melted her heart. Melted her entire body. She felt that familiar tingle even now as she neared him. Even now when she could barely remember her name or place of birth. For all she knew she'd been born at that very moment.

He was there. She was there. Both of them in the flesh. Eye to eye. Friends turned Ex-lovers. The two of them in Paris.

Before he said a word, his hand was in hers. The cool contact made her shiver. His touch, still bliss personified. Even now, confusion and shock couldn't muddle the physical response she'd always had to him.

He was speaking to her. For the rest of her life she'd swear she had actually seen Lucky's voice that day. It had drifted towards her, drawn in glorious technicolor music notes. She wanted to grab one note in her hand and squeeze it, hold it to her heart. Seal it there forever and ever. So even when he went away again, his voice would stay. Like some angelic music box sent from heaven.

She instantly wanted to pay attention to every word, every intonation. But she couldn't. She could only hear the beating of her own heart in her ears. The own fall of her footsteps as he pulled her away.

Where were they going?...Did she ask that, or think it?

"...........Someplace private."

They were the only words she could make out. Yes, someplace private.

Lyrics from Buckshot LeFonque: Phoenix