| Subject: Dangerous Chapter 4 |
Author:
Becca
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Date Posted: 19:18:18 10/24/02 Thu
In reply to:
Becca
's message, "Dangerous" on 13:16:20 09/27/02 Fri
Dangerous 4
**Soho, London**
Lucky sat in the café patiently. Zander went out on his “fact finding mission,” or what he calling is date with his mark. While Zander did that, it was Lucky’s job to “get close” to Elizabeth. He had no idea what he was going to do or how he was going to convincingly bump into her again.
His cell phone began to beep as it received the signal from the tracer Lucky had planted on Elizabeth’s purse the day before. He smiled, turned off the receptor and go up. He casually walked in the direction Elizabeth was coming, bumping into her “accidentally.”
“Whoa, sorry,” he claimed. He probably hit her too hard, because she had stumbled forward, into his arms. He caught her, his smile tinged with embarrassment. “I guess I’m having a clumsy day.”
“Oh, I thought you were just getting me back for bumping into you, yesterday,” she said, recognizing him instantly. “How are you doing, Lucky Spencer?”
“Can’t complain. You?”
She simply smiled.
“I’ll take that as you’re doing well,” he muttered. Scratching his head, Lucky couldn’t believe how rusty he was with the flirting. He used to be so smooth, so confident. Even if he had absolutely no interest in a woman, he could still charm the pants off of her—sometimes literally. But now, now he felt like an awkward teenager trying to flirt for the first time. Finding that one perfect person he didn’t have to flirt with, the one woman he didn’t need to charm, had seriously damaged his abilities to be smooth with a woman.
Elizabeth studied Lucky’s face and remembered what Emily had said. He was a single father whose wife had died. No wonder eyes looked so sad. He was smiling, but his eyes were telling her something entirely different.
“Hey, Lucky, you didn’t happen to get breakfast yet, did you?” she asked.
“Breakfast? No, I haven’t eaten yet.”
Elizabeth grabbed his arm and began to walk, “Great then, we’re going to breakfast together. My best friend picked up some guy yesterday and is having breakfast with him today. I hate to eat alone, don’t you?”
“Yeah, yeah I hate to eat alone,” Lucky said, thankful she was making this easy on him. “I usually eat breakfast with my daughter, but she’s at home so . . .”
“I thought I remembered you with a little girl last Christmas,” Elizabeth began. “What was her name?”
“Lacey, she just turned five,” Lucky said, beaming the way only a father could. “I wish she could be here with me.”
“Why isn’t she?”
“She’s only five, she couldn’t fully appreciate London. You know?” Lucky lied. He managed a genuine smile and admitted, “She does desperately want to go tot he Rock and Roll Hall of fame.” Elizabeth looked at him questioningly and all he could do was laugh. “Don’t ask.”
Elizabeth nodded, “When I was five the only place I ever wanted to go was to see Disney on ice. That was my dream vacation.”
Lucky and Elizabeth entered the restaurant and were quickly seated. “So, did you ever get to go see Disney on ice?”
Elizabeth looked across the table at Lucky. The way he was looking at her was weird. It wasn’t the look of a man who wanted her in bed, she knew that look. And it wasn’t the look of someone who was just being nice to her. No, it was the look of a man who was genuinely curious as to whether she got to see Disney on ice.
“Alas, no,” she confided. “My parents did take me to see the ballet, claiming it was just like Disney on ice but without ice. I was six but I wasn’t stupid. Men wearing tights and jumping around on a stage are not even remotely similar to Donald Duck on ice skates. It’s just not.”
Lucky let out a laugh that was unexpected and real. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t laugh at a childhood trauma.”
Elizabeth waved his apology off. “Why? It is a rather ridiculous childhood trauma. Though, I do suspect it is why I haven’t been able to be able to commit to a real relationship.”
“Because you never got to see Mickey Mouse on skates?” Lucky asked curiously.
“Oh yeah,” she said with a smirk. “Donald Duck was the first man I ever loved and that relationship was never fulfilled.” Without laughing, she added, “To this day I wonder what might have happened if had been given the chance to rendez vous with my beloved Donald.”
“Wow,” he gasped. “First impression, I never would have thought you to be a total whack job.”
“It is the second impression that will kill you,” she said with a wink. “I have this friend, AJ, and he once told me that I was by far the most messed up person he ever met, next to him that is.”
“So you aren’t about to get married because of a Donald Duck fixation, I really doubt that makes you all that messed up,” Lucky urged. He took a sip of water, amazed at how nice it was to just talk.
“It isn’t just a Donald Duck fixation. I also have sister issues. Not to mention, I have a dark side,” she admitted, her voice a seductive tone.
Now they were getting somewhere. “A dark side, care to elaborate?”
Elizabeth put her fingers to her lips and turned as if there were a key there. “My lips are sealed, buster,” she pursed her lips together. Thoughtfully she leaned forward, “Though imagine your wildest dreams and go a step beyond that and maybe you’ll have an idea of what I’m talking about.”
“I doubt that would work,” he said softly. His wildest dreams had a very different leading character in them. “But I guarantee you I can surmise what you do with your free time.”
“Oh really. Do tell.”
Lucky leaned back in his chair and shook his head. “Sorry, I’m playing this one close to the vest.”
“Oh, sneaky, I like that.”
**
“Zander, where are we?” Emily asked as she followed Zander into a hotel suite in the Sanderson Hotel. “Is this your way of bragging about getting a great hotel room?”
Zander shook his head and motioned for her to follow him. They stepped out of the main room and into what looked like a room from a James Bond movie.
“What is all this stuff?”
“It is my job,” he confessed. “I’m a WSB agent.”
Emily took a step back, shocked and a bit angry. “You’re a what?”
“I know all about you, Emily. I know what you’ve done, and I know what you are planning to do. We can do this the easy way, or we can do it the hard way,” Zander explained.
“What?”
“Come on, I’m here to help you.”
“What?”
“Emily, please!” Zander yelled, a bit frustrated. “Sit down and let me explain.”
Emily slowly backed towards the couch, falling onto it. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
“I know why you are in London. It is to do a job, and that job is to . . . don’t make me say it.”
Emily shook her head. “No, I am not saying a damn thing. You talk.”
“Fine,” he gritted his teeth before continuing. “You and Elizabeth Webber are here to steal the Ice Princess diamond and deliver it to Helena Cassadine. Our job is to make sure Helena never gets that diamond. But you can make our job a lot easier.”
“Our job?” she repeated. “Who else?”
“My partner. Who that is isn’t important right now,” Zander said, ignoring the very angry glare he was getting from Emily. “You help us set up Helena and things will go a lot smoother. If we’re all working on the same page, then there is no reason for anyone to possibly get hurt.”
“And if I said no?”
“Are you going to say no?” Zander asked. This was sort of a spur of the moment plan he had come up with. He didn’t tell Lucky he was going to tell Emily everything, but he thought it would work this way better. Now, he realized that he had maybe ignored a few details along the way. Like what would happen if Emily declined the offer.
“Maybe.”
“Then I’ll become your constant companion. Wherever you go, I go,” Zander declared, placing his hands in his pockets. “You won’t be able to pee without having me in the stall with you.”
“Wow, Zander, you’re so romantic,” Emily said glibly. “So, it is either—I agree to work with you or you stalk me.”
“More or less,” he said, realizing how bad it sounded. “So?”
“So what? You still haven’t told me what I get—what Elizabeth and I get if we help you. Five years in prison instead of twenty? What?”
“Prison was never something discussed,” he said, thinking back to the original plan. “Unless of course, you declined our offer.”
“And what is the offer?” Emily yelled, standing up in frustration.
“I was getting to that.”
“Get there faster.”
Zander muttered something under his breath while he retrieved something from a desk drawer. “This,” he tossed a piece of paper at her. “You and Elizabeth join us. Become WSB agents. Put your nefarious skills to good use instead of ripping off people like twisted vigilante Robin Hoods.”
“When you say it like that, how can I refuse?” Emily asked sarcastically. “You know, you think you are so great, but I can probably do the job, deliver the diamond and not have you even know it.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I doubt that very much,” Zander told her cockily.
Emily’s face brightened. “Is that a challenge?”
Zander looked at her carefully. “I’m not stupid.”
“Could have fooled me,” she smirked.
“You . . . you’re . . .” Zander grabbed a pair of handcuffs from the desk and ran over to Emily. He slapped one of the cuffs on her right wrist.
“That was a rational way to handle the situation,” she teased. “Take that off of me, what does it prove?”
“It proves . . . this,” he slapped the other cuff on his left wrist.
“What does THIS prove?” Emily asked, yanking their arms into the air.
Zander tried to think of something smart to say, but could only think of Lucky, Frisco, and Anna all looking at him like Emily was: as if his brain had ceased functioning.
“It proves I have the power,” he finally spit out.
“Oh my god, have you done a lot of drugs this morning?” Emily questioned, hoping to see his eyes glazed over in a drug induced haze. Nothing, he looked completely lucid.
Well, lucid for someone who lost his mind.
“You think you are funny, don’t you?” he said, pointing his finger at her. Of course, it was with his left hand so her arm went flopping around as well.
“No, no, I don’t think I’m funny, Zander,” Emily said gently. “I think YOU are fucking insane!” she shouted.
“You know what? I don’t have to take this. Here I was, trying to be a nice guy, let you in on the plan—and all I get is lip,” Zander muttered. He pulled Emily across the room to the desk where the key was supposed to be. Only as he riffled through the drawers of the desk he realized the key wasn’t there. “Uh oh.”
“Uh oh. Uh oh? What, uh oh?”
“Well,” Zander’s face softened as he turned to look at Emily. “I have misplaced the key.”
Emily stared at him blankly.
“No key,” he declared with a strained laugh.
“That’s funny. Ha.”
“I didn’t say it was funny,” Zander informed her.
“No, I did. I think it is funny that I’m handcuffed to a complete lunatic. I thought you were a nice guy who was interested in me. The first really nice guy I have met in a long time. But, in reality, you’re a crazy, irrational WSB agent who has handcuffed himself to me. I have such luck with men,” Emily grumbled. She looked at the cuffs, then at Zander, “Well, pick the lock, do something.”
“Can’t.”
Emily looked up at the ceiling in frustration. “Why not?”
“These aren’t rinky dink sex cuffs, and they aren’t the average cuffs you’ll find a cop using. Nope, they are WSB handcuffs. You can’t pick the lock. You can’t saw them off. You can’t even weld through them. They’re indestructible,” Zander explained. “The only way these cuffs are coming off are to find the key.”
Emily looked at Zander and let out a frustrated scream.
“That is productive,” he told her. “Have any other suggestions?”
“Suggestions? You’re the WSB agent, these are your cuffs, and you put them on us. It is up to you, buster, to get them off,” she said. “Do it!”
“I told you, I can’t get them off without the key and I don’t know where the key is,” he repeated angrily. “We just have to wait for Lucky to get back, he probably has a spare key.”
“Lucky?”
“Yeah, my partner,” Zander said as if it were something everyone knew.
“You’re partner is Lucky Spencer? The guy MY partner ran into yesterday? Oh my gosh, that was on purpose,” Emily surmised. “You followed us here.”
“Well duh, Emily. It is our job.”
“I have to go warn her,” Emily decided, running across the room and dragging Zander with her. “Shit, I forgot I was attached to you.”
Zander smugly smiled.
“Screw it, you’re coming with me,” she informed him, pulling him with her.
“You know, I can drag my feet and make it impossible for you to leave. But I’m not,” Zander said humbly.
“I don’t even want to know why,” Emily muttered.
Zander stared at her, “I’ll tell you why. Because I happen to know Lucky is probably with your partner.”
“Well, isn’t that just peachy,” came her response as they stepped on the elevator. Another couple in the elevator stared at them, handcuffed together. “What?”
“This does look kind of odd,” Zander whispered to her.
“So, they have no right to stare. Maybe we’re into this sort of stuff,” Emily said, loud enough for the other couple to hear. “Especially in BED, when we’re having SEX,” she added, raising her voice.
“And you said I was the insane one,” Zander said under his breath. “I’d say we’re on a level playing field, Quartermaine.”
“Shut up,” she hissed.
~November 1999~
**Georges V Hotel, Paris, France**
“Thirty seconds, Lucky,” Julia informed her partner.
They had broken into the hotel room of a notorious spy, Mikhail Campos. Campos was a weapons expert who had in his possession very important documents that had important information regarding a weapon he was building for a radical Greek political group. What the weapon did was of little concern to Lucky and Julia. What they needed was on the computer of Campos. They needed the plans for the weapon.
“I’m almost in,” Lucky said, glancing back at Julia as she stood guard at the door. She was dressed to the nines, in a sleek, stunning black evening gown. Lucky tugged at the bow tie that went with the tuxedo he was forced to wear. They had to pretend to be attending a formal gala at the Georges V in order to be able to believably get into Campos’s room.
“Twenty seconds,” she counted down.
“Hello, weapon of mass destruction—ok, maybe that is reaching a bit,” Lucky muttered as he studied the plans for the weapon. “In fact, I don’t think it is used to destroy anything, at all. It looks like . . . I don’t know . . .”
“Fifteen seconds.”
“Something to, this is going to sound crazy, but to brainwash someone,” Lucky snickered as he waited for the file to download to a mini CD. “All done,” he declared before deleting the file from Campos’s hard drive.
“With five seconds to spare,” Julia congratulated. “Do you think he has any other copies?”
Lucky shook his head. “Whatever he was designing wasn’t finished. He may have rough copies, but not to this point. If Campos’s MO holds up, he’s not exactly one for being prepared. I don’t think he was a Boy Scout.”
“You’re very perceptive,” she teased, grabbing his arm as they walked down the hallway.
“Thanks for noticing,” he said softly, leading her around a corner and to the elevator. They stepped into the empty elevator and before she could even press the button for their floor, Lucky was kissing her.
“Lucky,” she said, trying to push him away, but not being very persuasive. “We’re supposed to be working.”
He patted his coat, tapping the spot where the disk was. “Work is done,” he murmured against her mouth. “I’ve wanted to do that all night.”
“I have to admit, you do look dashing in that tux,” she told him as he kissed her hand. “Very James Bond.”
“James Bond has nothing on me, Jules,” he informed her with a devious smile.
She tossed her head back and laughed, giving Lucky the opening he needed to kiss her throat tenderly.
“We can’t do this here,” she informed him, realizing they were almost to their floor.
“You’re probably right,” he relented, stepping away from her and adjusting his suit just as the elevator doors slid open. “Perfect timing, again.”
**
Dancin' where the stars go blue
Dancin' where the evening fell
Dancin' in your wooden shoes
In a wedding gown
Later that night, the young couple strolled through Paris. No longer were they WSB agents, no, they put that part of them away for the night and were simply two young American tourists in love. It wasn’t hard to do that in Paris. Or maybe it was the fact that they were as in love as any two people could possibly be.
“Julia,” Lucky said softly, stopping in his tracks. “There’s something . . . I’ve been meaning to . . . well, I have something to tell you.”
She looked into his crystal blue eyes and could read his mind.
“What is it?” she asked, touching his face softly.
Dancin' out on 7th street
Dancin' through the underground
Dancin' little marionette
Are you happy now?
“We’ve been getting really serious, right? We spend a lot of time together, fool around in elevators, that sort of stuff.”
“Yeah,” she said, barely able to stand his stalling.
“How do I say this?” he asked rhetorically, running a hand through his hair. “I should just probably say it.”
Julia smiled, feeling overwhelmed by the look in his eye.
Where do you go when you're lonely
Where do you go when you're blue
Where do you go when you're lonely
I'll follow you
When the stars go blue, blue
When the stars go blue, blue
When the stars go blue, blue
When the stars go blue
“I can’t—I don’t want to be with anyone else because when I’m with you I feel like my world makes sense. Looking in your eyes, Julia, I feel like I can do anything. And the reason . . . what I’m trying to say is I’m in love with you. I love you, Jules, with all my heart.” He paused, a sheepish smile across his face. “You’re it. Us, together—it is the first thing to make sense in my life in a long time.”
Laughing with your pretty mouth
Laughing with your broken eyes
Laughing with your lover's tongue
In a lullaby
“Part of me . . . part of me, Lucky, feels like this is some sort of dream,” Julia began, near tears. “When I’m with you it is just right. And that scares me. I think I knew I’d love you the first second I saw you. But, gosh, that’s not me. I don’t fall in love, especially so easily. I guess, though, that falling in love, if it is real, is easy.”
Where do you go when you're lonely
Where do you go when you're blue
Where do you go when you're lonely
I'll follow you
When the stars go blue, blue
When the stars go blue, blue
When the stars, when the stars go blue, blue
When the stars go blue
When the stars go blue, blue, blue
Stars go blue
When the stars go blue
“Like breathing,” Lucky interjected softly.
“Yeah, like breathing,” she repeated. “At first I didn’t realize I was in love with you. I thought we were having fun. I thought I had a crush. I thought it would end. Everything good in my life has ended. And I do love you, but if it ends . . .”
Lucky took her face into his hands, his eyes urgent. “It won’t end. Not if I can help it. We are going to be fifty years old and still so in love it’ll make people sick.”
“You can’t make that promise, Lucky. Things happen, people . . . I don’t have to tell you this. No matter how much you want it to go on forever, things happen. Your mother died, my best friend in high school died. You can’t promise we’ll be different.”
Lucky could see fear in her eyes. But he knew it wasn’t because she didn’t want to love him, she did, he knew it more than anything. She was afraid he’d stop loving her.
“Maybe it is a bit arrogant for me to think I’m different, we’re different. But I can’t help it. I want to prove everyone wrong. I want to be with you when you’re sad. I want to be with you when you’re happy. I want to be with you when you’re angry. I just want to be with you. I want the chance to love you forever,” he looked at her for some reassurance. “If you’ll let me.”
“Like I could stop you,” she whispered, moving forward to kiss him. “I do love you, Lucky. I never thought it would be so amazing to have someone else love me. I don’t want to be without it.”
“Then you won’t be,” he promised. “We’ll prove the world wrong.”
Where do you go when you're lonely
Where do you go when you're blue, yeah
Where do you go when you're lonely
I'll follow you, I'll follow you, I'll follow you
I'll follow you, I'll follow you, yeah
Where do you go, yeah
Where do you go, Where do you go
“When the Stars Go Blue” written by Ryan Adams, preferred performance by Bono and Andrea Corr
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