Chapter Fourty:
The Nurse's Ball

Bobbie Spencer's swift stride across the lobby of the Port Charles Hotel stopped short. Swearing under her breath, she bent to adjust the strap on her black sling backs. Next time, she thought to herself, she was doing this thing in running shoes. The amount of chasing around and pulling together she had on her plate -- it was absurd to do it dressed like this.

But then, at this point, there was a very little about the ball that was not absurd. Certainly the fact that she was now dashing around looking for the concierge in an effort to track down some Krazy Glue needed to repair the peacock feathers on Brenda Barrett's faux Vegas Showgirl headdress qualified. She'd found the damned stuff, and now she was dashing back to the ball room to do a quick fix.

As Bobbie tucked the strap on her shoe safely back over her heel, something collided with a sharp smack across her rear end. She screeched, and stood up so fast she nearly tripped over herself. She grabbed onto her assailant's arm, gaping at her grinning brother.

"Lookin' good, Barbara Jean."

"Luke, for God's -- " she let the sentence die in her throat. Jesus, she was glad to see him. Her relief settled into her body and she sagged against him, her hand fisting the material on his so-tacky-it's-cool black polyester jacket. "You're here."

"Have to be," Luke's eyes studied his sister intently while he drawled out his explanation. "Lucy's got my kid makin' a fool of himself for The Cause again. Can't miss that."

Bobbie grimaced and stepped away from him. "I saw him back stage."

"One for the family album?"

A laugh, sudden and quick, started to bubble up inside of Bobbie. "He's a brave, brave man."

"Was there ever any doubt?"

Bobbie gave a half roll of her eyes, and sat down on the arm of one of the leather lobby chairs. She hadn't seen Luke since she'd gone to the club to tell him to lay off Carly and Nikolas. In the days since, she'd been running herself ragged. It's amazing how, sometimes, you don't realize how much you carrying until someone comes along to lighten the load a bit. And looking at her brother, Bobbie already felt the weight coming off her shoulders. No matter how angry she was at him, no matter how much grief he was giving her -- the man had always been able to make her smile when she needed it.

"Where's the rest of your entourage?" Bobbie asked, determined to keep the conversation light.

"Laura came with Amy. Lulu's got a reprieve, she's at a friend's house."

Bobbie smirked. "I'm surprised she's not on stage again."

Luke shook his head. "After she flashed her undies to the audience last year? The Ward House Kids are going it alone this time."

"I still think you put her up to that."

Luke looked injured. "You think I'd encourage my daughter to moon a room filled with Port Charles Most Haughty?"

"In a New York Minute."

"It's in the genes, Barbara. There's only so much I can do to set her to rights." Luke draped his lean frame over the couch casually, and gave his sister a pointed look. "Speaking of which. How's your progeny?"

"Lucas is with Maxie, doing his best to look cool and uninterested." Luke raised an eyebrow and Bobbie shrugged. "He's twelve. It was bound to start sometime." She held up her wrist displaying a simple sweetheart rose and baby's breath corsage. "Still loves his mother best, though. He's appointed himself my escort for the evening."

Luke nodded, smiling a little. "Kid knows his priorities," Luke leaned his head back, gazing up at the ceiling. "Could teach his sister a thing or two."

Well, Bobbie thought, it was nice while it lasted. "Luke."

He raised his head. "She coming?"

"Her husband's one of the sponsors, of course she's coming." Bobbie scowled at him. "You might even call it a 'priority'."

Luke sat bolt upright, body leaning forward dangerously. "It's the Cassadine Whitewash Machine at work, little sister!" he growled. "She better keep her eyes open or she's gonna get sucked up into the mechanism!"

"I don't need your help to worry about my daughter!" Bobbie shot back without hesitation. "I've been doing it just fine without you reminding me of what she's gotten herself into every time I turn around!"

"So you admit I have a point?"

Bobbie glowered. "I admit there are less intimidating families to marry into. But I still think Nikolas is going to be good for her."

Luke groaned. "Barbara, that kid wouldn't be good for the Bride of Frankenstein. He shows up someplace, the plants wilt from the light he sucks out of a room."

"He doesn't like you, Luke," Bobbie put a hand on her hip. "To the rest of us, he's a little less somber."

"He's got a permanent black cloud over his head and you call that somber?"

"God, Luke!" Bobbie stood up, feeling, if nothing else, distracted by her brothers's stubborn outlook on the world. "You know, way back at the dawn of time, I don't remember everyone being so spectacularly thrilled about you taking up with Laura Webber. There were a lot of people who thought you weren't good for her!"

"Yeah," Luke rose to his feet, grinning. "And they were right."

It took every fiber of will power Bobbie had not to scoff at the comment. God help her and her many issues with Laura -- her brother loved her.

"Luke... Just let it go for now. I have to grab something for Brenda and then we can --" Bobbie stopped when Luke grabbed her elbow, pulling her around to face him. He bent down, his eyes on top of her.

"I know something's up, Barbara Jean," he spoke in a low, confidential voice. "You can talk up this union all you want -- but I know you. Your mouth says 'yes yes' while your eyes say 'run for the hills."

Bobbie stood, staring at him. God, he was right. She was going out of her mind -- trying to balance her support of the union against all the other things in her head. Carly's reaction to Laura. The agreement to move to the island. The fact that Bobbie still hadn't figured out the right way to tell her daughter about what Felicia had confided in her the week before. It was keeping her up at night. Nikolas made her daughter happy -- she couldn't deny that. When Carly was with him, she smiled, she gazed at him like he hung the stars. Her daughter was finally finding love, and it was wondrous. And when Nikolas was gone, she was the same scared, shaky, reactionary woman Bobbie had been trying to rein in for the past year. Swinging back and forth like a pendulum. Quiet turning to hysteria. She'd seen this pattern before, and as much as she tried to convince herself that it was going to be different this time... History instructed her otherwise.

"Not now," was the only answer she gave her brother. "I have to get through tonight, hopefully in one piece. Then I'll start dealing with the rest of my life. WHICH, incidentally, I'm pretty capable of taking care of on my own, big brother."

Luke pulled back, his eyes still searching hers intently. "I have your back, Barbara. Whether you want me there or not."

Bobbie let herself smile. "Thank God for that."

Carly leaned against Nikolas as the limo made its cautious way through the early evening drizzle towards the front of the Port Charles Hotel. She had her wrap drawn close around her, taking great comfort in the soft silk on her bare arms, and in the heat that emanated from her husband's body. She would have been more than happy to languish there listening to the soft patter on the roof of the car for the rest of the evening. Even the rigid figure of her father-in-law and the cool silence the three of them were wrapped in was preferable to what inevitably awaited them once they reached their destination. She'd cracked a few jokes, made a few references to how universally disliked she was among the PC Elite. She'd drank up all Nikolas's assurances. In the end, though, she still felt like disaster was looming.

Nikolas's hand tightened around hers as the limo rolled smoothly to a stop in front of the hotel. She turned and gave him a brave smile. God, she was acting like this was her execution. Or tar and feathering, more like. It was only a few hours, she reminded herself. And when it was over, she was going to get to go home with Nikolas. Also, this year? She didn't have to perform. And that was a blessing right there. All she had to do was find some way to keep her mouth shut and her feet firmly on the ground... She'd be fine. If for no other reason than just the fact that she had to be. There wasn't another option.

She still jumped when the door to the limo was opened. Stupid, since she was hardly new hand at these things. It just felt like there should have been more of a preamble. Some sort of movement or gesture or... Did these people not talk?

"Madame?"

The doorman, in full red coat and gold cord regalia, was reaching his hand in to help her from the car. An umbrella was poised over the car door to spare her even a few drops of rain. Carly took a deep breath and reached out to take his glove-covered hand. Here goes nothing, she thought as he pulled her from the car.

The door man escorted her as if she was made of crystal and porcelain under the awning at the front of the hotel. Carly stepped carefully, eyes down, trying to assemble this information. Every time she accompanied Jason some place, she always felt like the people around her were smiling just a little too much, trying to act just a little too relaxed. People opened doors for her, sure -- but they kept a wide berth. The bodyguards were the only people who hovered this close to her. But this man was acting as if it was a travesty that her feet had to touch the ground. It would have been sort of nice if it wasn't so decidedly creepy.

"Nikolas," Carly turned suddenly, breaking away from her escort, to see that her husband was following only a step behind her. He moved smoothly to her side, taking her arm in his. The doorman immediately bowed -- bowed for God's sake -- then stepped back and opened the door in a sweeping gesture. Nikolas put his hand over Carly's and they walked forward in long steps, Carly's body taking on some of Nikolas's self-assurance just out of necessity to keep in stride with him.

"They do know you're not a prince, right?" Carly spoke in a hushed tone as they moved through the door.

"I haven't asked."

"Seriously," she murmured under her breath. "This is getting a little Gone With the Wind. Do I need a fan or something? Am I wearing enough tulle?"

"You're the one who keeps calling it an appearance," Nikolas responded as they crossed through the door into the hotel. A large gold lettered sign sat on an easel, welcoming all who came through the door to the ball and discreetly pointing out the direction of the Versailles Room. Nikolas started to turn back to check that his father was following, but Carly stopped him. She was staring straight ahead, and Nikolas found his eyes following hers. Coming out of the lobby were none other than Luke and Bobbie Spencer. Luke had a proprietary hand on his sister's back, and they were both laughing. They stopped when they noticed who was standing inside the door.

Bobbie started forward, but Luke's commanding hand came down on her shoulder, holding her back. His eyes were not on the young couple, and without turning it was painfully clear that Stefan had entered the building. He came to stand next to Carly with a faint rustle of his long black cloak. The sound was not unlike a large bird of prey coming to rest on a tree branch.

"Spencer," he nodded formally, then turned his eyes on his ex-wife. "Good evening, Barbara."

"Ah," Luke was off before anyone could make a preemptive move. "Prince," he nodded at Nikolas. "Ex-Prince. And Caroline, Our Lady of Perpetual Destruction. How nice of your to join us."

Carly, more than aware that this was going to be one of the added bonuses of coming to the ball, was about to step in front of Nikolas, teeth bared, when her husband cleared his throat.

"We're running late,"

"Indeed," Stefan agreed. Carly glanced up at him, then back at her husband. Bookended by Cassadines. No wonder her uncle looked so ticked. "Alexis is waiting for us at the table." Stefan continued. "Carly, there is space at the table for your mother, if she cares to join us."

A loaded silence followed and Carly bit her lip without intending to. He was asking his daughter in law, but his eyes were fixed on her mother, and there was no attempt made to cover up the power lines being drawn. Carly felt, suddenly, outside of this. Honestly -- did she want her mother at the table? Hell, yes. Anything to get through this night. Did she expect her mother to agree to that for a millisecond? While her brother was standing right beside her? Well, she wasn't an idiot.

"I'm backstage half the night," Bobbie answered, cutting her own path through the quagmire of family politics. "I'll stop by when I have a chance."

She looked at her mother and gave a slight smile. Mouthed "thank-you". Bobbie looked for a moment, touched. Then, she turned to her brother and adopted an exuberant and oblivious tone. "So. You gonna escort me back to my duties or what?"

"With pleasure," Luke turned and gave his niece a juicy grin over his shoulder. "Watch you don't drink anything you don't make Nikky test first, Darlin'. Wouldn't want any accidents."

Carly started after him, but Nikolas pulled her back. "Not worth it."

"It's always worth it," she hissed back.

"He feeds off your reaction," Nikolas's eyes briefly met his fathers, and Carly noted something distinct and unspoken pass between them. "And this night isn't about him."

No, Carly thought bitterly, as they started off down the hall. This night is about Robin Scorpio. God, was it too late to bail on this whole thing? Spencers in the hallway, Jason and Robin lurking in the corners. Quartermaines every where you turned. What was she thinking?

Nikolas was concentrating very hard on keeping his breathing normal. Generally, he had learned, if you could control your breath, you could control most of what you let escape. And if there was ever a time to keep himself in check.... Well. Where there was Luke, his mother inevitably followed. And while he'd known she'd probably be here, what with the upcoming Ward House/General Hospital outreach programs being implemented, he always held out that little bit of hope to avoid her.

He turned his thoughts, quite determinedly, to the woman on his arm. She was more than ample distraction. He was having a hard time nailing down what he was feeling about walking into this room with her. He'd gotten a taste of how fast the gossip mill was eating the news of their marriage up on Wednesday. He wasn't looking forward to giving it more fodder. On the other hand...

God, she looked incredible. Ethereal. Even nervous and pissed off, she looked absolutely otherworldly. Maybe there wouldn't be a single person in that ballroom tonight who really understood how it was he and Carly had ended up together. Maybe there were all taking bets on how long it would last. But he couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. She was with him. Despite everything, the gossip, the people, the history -- she was on his arm and that was all that mattered.

The moment they hit the doors to the ball room, Nikolas knew that the next few minutes were going to be among the toughest of the night. The room was alive -- singing with the energy of excitement and anticipation. Everyone was seated already, and the rhubarb of conversation was loud and unyielding. And then... Then they were noticed. Crowds, as a rule, aren't subtle. The hush moved across the room, hitting the back corner around the time the murmuring started at the front. Low, and differing in tone. Nikolas felt Carly's hand tighten on his arm.

"Ever get the feeling you're being watched?"

He smiled, and pressed his lips briefly against the top of her head, murmuring "They're jealous."

Carly let out a quick laugh, turning her face into the arm of his jacket. "You're delusional."

"I'm walking across this room. With you."

Carly heard the determination in his voice and let out a long breath. Everything seemed to be so damned easy for him. She lifted her head and scanned the room with her eyes. Quartermaines. She could see the back of Lila's head. Nurses she'd gone to school with were sitting in the back looking particularly bitchy. Ok -- so maybe they were jealous... And... there. Down by the stage -- salvation. She could see Alexis Davis sitting alone at a table near the stage. She knew Nikolas's aunt on sight, and as they started to walk across the room, Carly adopted a purposeful swagger, exuding confidence. To hell with them, she thought. They're everyone else. Not important. Apart, and more than occasionally above. She could play that. If just to get across this room, she could play that.

She was surprised when Alexis Davis's eyes met hers. More surprised when the woman stood as they approached, and put out her hand.

"We haven't met officially," she was saying as they approached. "I'm Nikolas's aunt."

"Carly, this is Alexis. Alexis, this is my wife," Nikolas brushed his hand lightly along her arm as she spoke. Carly felt herself flush. There was something about the way he said that word -- how easy it was for him. It managed to make her feel nervous and safe in the same breath. She took the outstretched hand and shook it briefly.

"Welcome to the madhouse," Alexis was saying, accompanying it with a wry smile -- it seemed real. Genuine. Carly wasn't sure what to make of that.

"Thanks," she pulled out a chair, her eyes on the woman, trying to think of something else to say. She noticed that both Alexis and Stefan, who had rounded the table to stand beside her, were looking at her a little oddly. She turned to Nikolas in search of backup, and noticed the cause of the confusion. Nikolas had already pulled out a chair for her. She shook her head and released her grip on the chair she was holding. "Oh. Right." She dropped down into the chair she'd apparently been appointed. Very smooth, Caroline. Very classy.

Nikolas moved to the chair Carly had held moments earlier. He pulled it closer to where she sat, and was about to take his seat when his eyes caught something. Something he'd purposely been attempting to avoid.

It was incredible. A curse, maybe. But any time Nikolas entered a room she was in, his eyes would find her within seconds. This time, to the right. Sitting sideways on her chair, smiling and nodding as her sister spoke. Before he could pull his attention away, she turned. Her head snapping around and her eyes grabbing his. Like they had any right to do that. Like there was any justice to his mother being able to look directly into him like that without his permission.

He looked away first. He always did. It gave him a hollow sense of achievement, but it never allowed him to know -- did she watch when he turned away? He refused to let himself look back and check. But he always wondered. He sank down into the chair beside Carly. She was watching him, he could tell.

"You've met my mother, haven't you?" Nikolas's eyes were on the table cloth.

Carly stiffened immediately. "What do you mean?"

"I don't have to introduce you."

"She's my aunt," Carly said by way of answer. Nikolas didn't respond. She watched him a moment, wondering if that was a hint. If he'd somehow divined, walking across the room, that Carly had seen his mother this week. That she had said one or two things he might not appreciate... She was about to open her mouth to press the topic further, when the lights on the room dimmed. "Whoa," Carly turned her eyes upward. Spotlights were sweeping around the room. "That was quick."

"I find," Stefan sat down in the chair beside his sister. "It is best to make a late appearance."

"And an early exit," Nikolas added, dryly. "If your donation is large enough, then they won't consider you rude."

"Chorus Line," Carly reminded Nikolas as the music kicked up. She felt his hand close around hers under the table, his palm pressing firmly against hers.

"Without a doubt."

She'd done it, Carly thought, as the curtain fell on a particularly painful rendition of that "Lime in the Coconut" song as sung by several of GH's interns. She'd made it through four numbers -- including the opening, a very bizarre Vegas-inspired big number featuring several GH nurses and friends, including -- and Carly was still cringing -- Bobbie Spencer, as showgirls. Ned Ashton, one of the few Quartermaines who didn't make Carly gag, crooning "Danke Schoen" in full cheesy Wayne Newton style, complete with finger snapping, and winking. How he'd avoided having women's panties tossed at him, Carly thought sourly, was a wonder.

Granted, it had been hard to keep her mind strictly on the happenings on the stage. Sitting in the dark next to Nikolas... Well, she should have known she was asking for trouble. It had started innocently enough. Holding hands. A sign of solidarity.

Surrrrre.

During Lucy's opening speech, they're bodies had gradually drifted towards each other. Leaned together. His fingers had started to twine, then untwine from hers. Brushing lightly across her palm, then drawing small circles on the inside of her wrist. She'd responded by slipping her foot out of her sandal and sliding it provocatively along his calf. That, he'd taken far better than she's expected. And as the lights came up he was stealing a few quick kisses along her shoulder, towards the bend of her neck. They had, she realized, not actually clapped once.

Stefan sat across from them, silent and stoic. If he noticed anything that was going on across the table, he was politely refraining from pointing it out. Of course, Alexis had vanished shortly after Ned had appeared on stage, and no one was mentioning that either. Carly kept her eyes fixed, dutifully, on Lucy -- a vision in crimson silk -- as she begged people to check out the silent auction, and restated the difference the people in the room were capable of making. Carly wondered quietly just how much money this thing spent on the woman's dresses, and what kind of difference that could make.

"Carly," Stefan spoke once the stage had been cleared and the break was underway. "You've performed at this event yourself, have you not?"

"Twice," Carly confirmed, trying and failing to pull her hand free of Nikolas's distracting grasp. "But I don't sing."

Stefan nodded, slowly, then turned in his seat. "I have a call," he announced. Taking his cell phone from his breast pocket he examined the display, and stood. "Excuse me, I'll have to take this."

"He's leaving?"

"He never takes calls at social gatherings, he thinks it's rude." Nikolas shook out his head. He couldn't help but wonder just what that call was about. Business or personal, if Stefan was taking it, it was something that raised his suspicions. Once again, he forced himself to focus on what was right in front of him. Carly was giving him a very slow and incredibly sexy smile that burned all concern about his father out of him.

"So..." she very nearly purred.

"Alone at last," he breathed, bringing their hands up on top of the table.

"In a manner of speaking."

"Are there other people here?" he slid his chair closer to hers. "I hadn't noticed."

Carly felt herself heat under his eyes. The blush creeping up her neck had nothing to do with embarrassment. The look he was giving her... she searched her vocabulary for the right word. It was... Smoldering. That was it. Romance novel quality. It felt almost indecent to have someone looking at you like that in public - and Carly had a really high index for indecency.

"So," she leaned forward, her voice dropping to an intimate whisper. "Now that we are alone --"

"NIKOLAS!" A shrill voice shattered the moment, and both Carly and Nikolas turned their attention to it's source -- only to see a whirl of black and gold coming at them faster than the speed of light. Carly scarcely had time to react when the woman was upon them and had seized her husband's arm, pulling on it desperately. "Nikolas, there you are! You haven't picked up your reading!"

Nikolas looked blank. "My what?"

"Oh, don't you give me that look!" Lucy Coe straightened, looking aghast. "No one is allowed to give me a look like that today. All you have to do is smile and nod and tell me there isn't anything to worry about."

"I'm sorry," he frowned, trying to subtly pull himself free of her. "I don't know what you're talk--"

"Robin Scorpio!" Lucy exclaimed. "She gave me a list of five people who were going to read testimonials and your name is on it!"

Carly turned in her chair. "Oh, really."

Nikolas turned to her and saw exactly what the tone of voice suggested -- Carly wasn't at all pleased with that revelation. So much for a few moments of stolen peace. "I don't know what she's talking about."

"Testimonials!" Lucy pleaded. "You've done it before!"

"Because Robin asked me to," Nikolas turned back, trying unsuccessfully to divide his attention. "She didn't ask me this year!"

"No, no, no!" Lucy put both hand over her ears. "I'm not hearing this! I'm not hearing this! You are getting your cute little butt out of that chair and coming back stage with me right now, getting your testimonial and saying 'Don't worry about it, Ms Coe. I'm a smart boy, I can read. And by the way...'" Lucy flung her arms out, above her head. "'And by the way, you are looking exceptionally stunning, magnificent and beautiful in that dress.'"

"I am?"

"You ARE."

Nikolas stared at the woman, his mind racing. He didn't want to do this. Ok, sure, it wasn't anything near as painful as being called on to do something up on that stage -- But he hated standing up in front of people. Particularly for reasons like this. It made him feel awkward, and that wasn't something he reveled in.

"Can I --" he searched for a way out.

"It will take FIVE MINUTES!" Lucy immediately adopted a puppy-in-the-rain expression. "Please? They're such an important part of tonight, and you're such a strong public speaker --"

"No, I'm not," Nikolas tried to protest. He felt Carly's hand tighten almost painfully about his.

"Well, you fake it well! And you're a sponsor! It would just mean so much to come from you."

"Can't you just bring it out to him?" Carly leaned forward, pushing Nikolas back in his chair,

"I have to introduce the next act!" Lucy's voice was riding into the hysterical range. "I have to change, I have to -- "

Nikolas glanced quickly in Carly's direction. She was staring at Lucy with a look that he didn't like. "I don't want to leave Carly alone --"

"Oh, Kevin?" Lucy reached out and grabbed the arm of her passing ex-paramour, nearly hauling him off his feet as she dragged him over to the table. "Here, Nikolas has to come with me, but this... Well." She stopped short, almost as if she was taking notice of Carly for the first time. "This is his wife! And she's Luke's niece and Bobbie's daughter -- well, I guess so, if she's Luke's niece, I mean how else is he going to have a niece --"

"Lucy!" Kevin interrupted. "Breathe."

"Right," Lucy pulled in a deep breath, "Good advice. He's a psychiatrist, you know."

"Oh, God..." Carly didn't bother to hide her displeasure at that revelation.

"Have you met? Kevin, Carly, Carly, Kevin. Oh, wait. Are you still using Carly? I know there was this whole name thing --"

"It's Carly," she stated firmly. "Thanks."

"Right," Lucy pushed Kevin down into the chair Stefan had just vacated. "Anyway, you keep her company while Nikolas and I run back stage and make sure he gets his reading."

"Carly," Nikolas started. Carly shook her head, shutting him down.

"Nikolas, just go."

He opened his mouth to say something further, but then, evidentially thinking better of it, just let out a sigh and stood up. "I'll be right back," he assured her, bending to brush a quick kiss against her lips. Carly didn't return the kiss, and turned her eyes towards the stage. "Five minutes."

"I know."

She felt his fingers brush across her shoulder before he turned and followed Lucy off towards the wings. Carly watched him walk away and tried to ignore the tight knot in her stomach. Hey, it wasn't like she couldn't take care of herself. The wolves weren't going to leap on her just because Nikolas stepped away from the table for minute... leaving her unprotected. In a room full of people who hated her guts... She scanned the room quickly for Quartermaines, all the same, then turned back to her companion. Kevin was watching her, a disturbingly interested expression on his face. Carly furrowed her brow at him, and he shook his head quickly, as if knocking something out of it. He then delivered a smile that was clearly meant to be ingratiating, and leaned forward.

"So," Kevin clasped his hand together and rested them on the table. "Do you come here often?"

She managed a weak smile. All right. Where the hell was Stefan?

"This is the last time."

"You said that last year."

"Yeah, I mean it this time."

"Babe, you really don't look bad."

Lucky Spencer looked at his girlfriend over the coke-bottle glasses he was wearing as part of his costume. Elizabeth's attempt at support crumbled and she started to giggle.

"Thanks, 'Lizbeth. That's really comforting."

"I'm sorry!" Liz leaned against the wall. "I really..." she gasped. "Am."

Lucky tossed the blonde wig lying on the prop table at her. "Put on your hair, Webber."

The wig landed on Liz's shoulder and she slid down the wall, still laughing helplessly. "How did we get into this?"

"I don't know. Your mascara's running."

Liz swatted his legs with her wig. "It's supposed to run!"

Their banter was cut off by a blinding flash of light. Blinking, the couple turned to see their assailant.

"Couldn't resist," Emily shrugged, winding the film forward on her camera. "The hidden side of the nurses ball. No one sees the tragedy in the wings."

Elizabeth cracked up again, and put her head down on her knees. Lucky turned to his best friend, holding out his hand expectantly.

"I want that film, Quartermaine."

Emily sucked in her breath. "Gee, love to help you, Lucky, but this is the official record of the Annual Nurse's Ball."

Liz put her hand over her abdomen, pulling in a shaky breath. "At least you don't have to perform."

Emily smirked. "Oh, no. I'm singing. Repeatedly." She looked over at Liz, in her short too-tight, too-bright little micro dress, and the bleached blonde hair clutched in her fist. "What's that?" she asked, gesturing to the wig. "Did someone skin Mrs. Barrington's Shitsu?"

Elizabeth collapsed into more giggles. Lucky grabbed Emily's arm and turned her to face him.

"Never again," he breathed into her face.

"You always say that."

"I look like an idiot."

Emily was unimpressed. "I have five words for you."

"'It's a good cause, Lucky'?"

"Girls Just Wanna Have Fun." A smile tugged at the edges of Lucky's mouth. "They had my hair in those Pippi Longstocking pony tails!"

"Emily!" Lucky threw his arms out. "LOOK at me!"

Emily took in Lucky's appearance. He looked like Woody Allen caught in a blender with Steve Urkel.

"Nice hat," she observed.

"I told Lucy I'd do this thing again as long as she didn't make me look stupid."

Liz let out a yelp and Emily turned back to her, trying to reconcile Liz's tramp with Lucky's nerd.

"What are you guys DOING, anyway?"

"S... S... Suddenly..." Liz shook her head.

"Little Shop of Horrors," Lucky clarified through gritted teeth. "Why? I have no idea."

Emily's eyes lit up. "Suddenly Seymour? I LOVE that song!"

Liz nodded, struggling to her feet. "It's soooo sweet. And he looks cute, doesn't he?"

Emily turned back to Lucky, a soppy look on her face. "Adorable."

"NEVER again!" Lucky looked back and forth between the women as they both started to giggle at his expense. "It's only because I'm so INNATELY cool, that this is even funny at all!"

"Oh, suck it up, Spencer!" Emily teased. "You have to suffer for your --" she paused mid-sentence as the curtain to the right of them parted, and Lucy Coe entered, dragging a reluctant Nikolas behind her. "Art."

"You stay here!" Lucy was instructing her prey. "If you take one step away from that spot, Nikolas Cassadine, I will hunt you down and believe me, I won't be nearly this sweet next time."

"I swear to you, no one said anything to me about a reading."

Lucy let out a high pitched 'humph' and turned on her heel. "No time! No time! Stay there --" she spun back, still walking backwards, "I'm serious!" She turned back around just in time to narrowly miss being run over by a rack of dresses being wheeled towards one of the dressing room. "OH! What are you doing???? Where are you going with those?"

Lucy's voice faded into the general chaos of the back stage, leaving Nikolas standing awkwardly just behind the curtain, wondering exactly how much trouble he'd get in to for turning around and going back to his wife. His gaze strayed from Lucy's retreating back and he realized that he was being stared at by three pairs of eyes.

"Hi," Nikolas struggled with everything in him not to let himself look as uncomfortable as he felt. This was not the first time Nikolas had turned the wrong corner and found himself face-to-face with Lucky, Elizabeth and Emily. After a painful silence, he realized that it was the first time Emily hadn't rushed to his rescue. He turned his eyes to her specifically, and he saw a hint of panic flash over her features before a wall descended and she expression became impassive.

Uh oh.

"You're doing a reading?" Lucky interrupted, finally deigning to end the agony.

"Apparently," Nikolas cleared his throat, and turned his attention to his brother momentarily. "No one mentioned it to me."

Liz was attempting to slide herself back up the wall with Lucky's help, and Nikolas caught the look that passed between them. Unusual, again, because it was the sort of apprehensive look that Liz used to direct at Emily far back in the annals of time, when Nikolas and Lucky couldn't be within spitting distance without... Well. Spitting.

"Thought you could just write the check and run, huh?" Lucky's voice carried no hint of concern.

"That's where my primary talent lies," Nikolas pulled in his breath. "Hello, Emily."

She stared at him a long moment before giving a small shrug and answering "Hey."

He knew he should probably say something. Probably, should have said something a few days earlier. But standing here, seeing how purposely she was laying distance between them, he couldn't think of where to start.

"How are you -- " he managed, finally.

"I have to go," Emily announced, turning her attention to her camera. "I have to sing later and I promised Lucy I'd get at least three rolls of film before that."

"What are you singing?"

Emily wound her film up to speed, and smirked bitterly before looking up with a practiced toss of her hair. "On My Own."

Her words were a little pointed, and Nikolas frowned as she turned and walked away from him. After a moment, Liz sidestepped away from her boyfriend, and made a weak gesture.

"I should..."

"Of course," Nikolas nodded. "I'll... I'll see you later."

"Yeah. Great. Uh... Good luck... Reading." Liz winced at her own lack of suave, then turned and dashed off after her friend.

Nikolas exhaled, watching the space where Emily had been standing. "She really hates me now, doesn't she?"

Lucky shrugged. "Dunno. Em's pretty constant in her affections, man. But you landed yourself in the doghouse pretty hard."

Nikolas managed not to flinch. "She told you what happened, then."

"Just the highlights."

"I didn't have a lot of choice."

Lucky looked skeptical. "Really."

"At the time?" Nikolas turned to face him. "I thought I was doing the right thing. Hindsight is twenty-twenty."

"She can't be the only one reacting this way," Lucky leaned into the wall. "Lots of people in this town are gonna come down on the opposite side of Carly just on principle." He held up a hand, preempting the remark that was coming on heels of the dark look his brother was shooting him. "Not that I'm one of them."

Nikolas forced himself to relax. The last thing he needed right now was to give in to the temptation to go off on his brother. For once he'd have to admit that the desire was rooted firmly in the fact that Lucky was there, and not some other trigger.

"Well, if that's how Emily feels... There's not a lot I can do about it."

"She'll come around. The mansion's been a little... loud. Lately."

"I've heard." Nikolas glanced away, seeking out any sign of Lucy Coe. "Monica informed me that it was in an 'uproar'."

Lucky cocked his head to one side. "You're talking to Monica Quartermaine?"

"She's talking to me," Nikolas sighed, giving up on his search for Lucy. "Given the options, I suppose I should count my blessings."

His brother's eyes narrowed and Nikolas backed away from him on instinct. He hated it when Lucky looked at him like that.

"I was over there yesterday," Lucky said slowly. "The kid looked a little high strung."

All caution was thrown immediately to the wind as Nikolas crossed to Lucky, closing the space between them to such a degree that Lucky shifted to stand further down the wall.

"Michael? You saw Michael?"

"Yeah," Lucky put a hand to his brother's chest and pushed him back. "The one and only."

"How?"

"Emily's been my best friend since I was 12!" Lucky half laughed at the question. "Sometimes I'm over there, I see things." He let out his breath. "It's not encouraged. But they don't call out the dogs, either."

"How was he?"

"Three? He was playing with the drapes and driving his nanny nuts. Emily said he's been kind of..." Lucky paused, checking out the expression on Nikolas's face. Bringing some new meaning to the word 'intensity'. Well. That was another question answered -- You didn't have to ruminate on the topic of Nikolas and Carly for long before the similarities between Michael and Nikolas came up. He'd been wondering if Nikolas was just ignoring them, or if he was investing in them. The answer was, for once, written all over his face. Lucky lowered his voice, leaning forward. "You sure you wanna hear this?"

"Is that a rhetorical question?"

"Em says he's been acting up. She didn't say why, but... If the Q's are being... Q's -- then I don't think he's going to be a happy camper."

Nikolas straightened up, breathing the information in. He hadn't told Carly about Monica's visit -- hadn't seen the point in it. And this was something he wasn't certain how to handle either. Carly insisted the Quartermaines weren't good for her son -- he believed her -- if only because they had limited the boy's access to his mother so completely. But whether or not it served Carly to know exactly what was going on inside the mansion... That was something he'd have to look into further.

"Thanks," Nikolas mumbled, realizing that Lucky was still present, still watching him. He turned and leaned his back against the wall. He hadn't realized how fast his heart had been beating. Un-Cassadine. Not at all well-played.

"You look like you need a drink," Lucky observed. Nikolas shook his head impatiently.

"I'm fine."

"Oh yeah. Butter wouldn't melt in your mouth."

Nikolas turned, grabbing onto the only other topic that offered itself to him. "I didn't hear from you this week."

There was more than a trace of anger in the words, and Lucky stifled a groan. He should have known this was coming. "Thought you'd be busy."

The corners of Nikolas's mouth twitched. "You know I'm never that busy."

Lucky turned his eyes to the ceiling. "Have you thought about what you're going to say to her?"

"Does she know?"

"Yeah." Lucky pushed himself off the wall and paced a few steps. He ran a hand through his hair while he gathered his thoughts. "Lu's not a little kid, but this is gonna be complicated. The fact that she didn't know about it is nothing compared to the fact that she didn't get to be a flower girl."

Nikolas watched, feeling a familiar tightening in his chest. "Well," his voice came out low and flat. "I could start by explaining to her how I'm her brother, but no one in her family's very enthusiastic about it. I could point out that I don't get to see her one-on-one. It's not like I can stop by unannounced. I'm not free to invite her to share the things in my life with her like you and --"

"Some of that's your choice, Nik," Lucky pointed out, turning back to him. "Mom wouldn't have any problem with you dropping by --"

"As long as Luke's not there. As long as it isn't disruptive or --"

"Yeah, and you don't really give her a chance to fix any of that, you know?"

"I gave her a shot, Lucky," Nikolas bit out. "I gave her more than one. What did I get out of that? A mother? A family?" His voice quaked on the last word, and Lucky turned away. He told himself to shut up, but somehow the message wasn't making it to his mouth. "I got a clear picture. Of what I was to her, of where I stood. In the end, that's what I gained from letting her in." He managed to cut off the stream of words by running out of breath. He pulled in a lung full of air, then shook his head resolutely. "I'm not talking about this."

"Doesn't sound that way."

"I want to see my sister. I want to tell her about this myself."

Lucky stared hard at a crack in the floor that lay between them. "No one's stopping you."

His brother didn't answer, and he didn't look up to see what his reaction would be. He didn't have to. What kept Nikolas away from their mother, he more than suspected, had very little to do with personal choice and everything to do with self-preservation. As much as he'd like to argue against the position, to defend his mother, he couldn't. He wasn't entirely certain that Nikolas was wrong.

"Ok," Lucky sighed, raising his eyes again. "All right, I get it. Give me a call, we'll set something up next week."

Carly was staring determinedly at the centerpiece in the middle of the table. Things had been going so well. No one had appeared to rail at her. The Quartermaines were mostly all out of sight. Nikolas was being his sweet sexy self. She'd been feeling pretty good. She'd even started to believe she was going to get through this all in one piece. Then the Tasmanian Devil in Gold Lame had swept in and stolen her husband. Stranded her at a table with no big scary Cassadines to keep her long list of enemies away. Stuck her in a conversation with a man who was, without a doubt, the most intensely boring person she'd ever been forced to spend time with. They had both given up on any pretense of having something to talk about, and now Carly was silently wishing for anyone else -- anyone -- to appear. Even the curiously absent Robin. She might loathe the ground the girl walked on, but at least they could carry on a subtext-ladden conversation. This guy -- Kevin -- was beyond hope. She turned back to him and pulled in a breath to stall while she tried to think of something to say. She was saved, thank God, by the light's dimming and Lucy running out on stage.

"ALL RIGHT everybody! Hope you enjoyed that little break in the action!" Clapping, murmuring, Carly let her eyes close. Nikolas, where the hell are you? "But we have much much more coming your way and we're going to start with our very own Captain and Tenille, Drs. Alan and Monica Quartermaine!"

Carly's eye flew open. Oh, come on. No. No. She could handle a lot, but Seventies Sensations by the singing Quartermaines? Up on the stage, as Lucy made her dash off to the wings as the curtain rose. The piano intro to a far too familiar song kicked up and Carly felt immediately sick.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Could be worse," Kevin had turned in his seat to look up at the stage. "It could be Muskrat Love."

Carly was on her feet before she'd even made the decision to move. There was no way. No fucking way. Even with Nikolas beside her, she wouldn't have been able to sit still for his. She untangled her evening bag from the back of the chair and caught the inquisitive expression on her companion's face. He looked disturbingly like he was about to ask her something.

"Nose powdering," she muttered. "Inquiries made about horses, kidnapped by aliens -- take your pick. If you see my husband, tell him I'll be back." she turned her back and started to weave her way through the tables towards the exit. "Maybe."

"Love," Alan Quartermaine's rich voice filled the room as Carly did everything possible to not break into a run. "Love will keep us together... Think of me, dear, whenever..."

Her heart was pounding in her head when she reached the doors to the ballroom and she turned on her heel, heading through the groups of people observing quilt squares. Out. She needed out of here. Away from those people and their stupid aren't-we-cute little song and dance. Of all the songs. Of all the god damned evil little sick and twisted songs out there to choose, they had to go with that one. Love will keep them together. Sure. And the same damn thing had torn her apart.

Carly could taste bile in her mouth as she made her way to the bathroom. Christ, they hadn't even gotten to Robin's speech! How was she going to do this? She should leave. Just get out of here. Why the hell was she doing this to herself?

Nikolas.

Right. Nikolas. The reason for all things, wherever the hell he'd disappeared to. Hey -- she hadn't seen Robin yet. Maybe he was chatting her up backstage. Listening to her wax poetic about how superb he'd sound doing that little reading she hadn't even bothered to ask him about. Completely ignoring the wife he'd neglected out in the ballroom. The one who had to sit and listen to her son's grandparents croon about their oh-so-wonderous affection for each other. God Damn it!

She just needed a break, she told herself, as she punched through the door to the bathroom. A short break to rein in some of the fury she was suddenly possessed with. And if Stefan Cassadine followed her in here this time, so help her God --

The bathroom was far from empty, and the women at the mirror -- both from the hospital, one of them an intern who'd already done a number, stopped and stared at her. Carly gave them an unapologetically nasty look, and strode across the room to the far stall by the wall. She pushed it open, and slammed the door behind her, locking it. She pushed her back against the stall door and let her eyes close. Deep breaths, she told herself. You can do this. Hey, what is this? Third mental breakdown in a bathroom inside of a week? She was an old pro.

Tears fought to seep out of her eyes, but Carly stubbornly kept them in check. She wasn't going to cry yet. She wasn't going to cry at all. She's just push this down inside of her and some time in the very near future when she was somewhere with significantly less people, she'd let herself scream. Very therapeutic, they told her. And good for the lungs. It might be a little unhinged, but she was damned if she was going to do anything to prove Port Charles right. She might be mad enough to tear her own skin off right now, but she wasn't going to do anything that would make these people thing they were right about her.

Carly's dark reminisces were interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening, and a loud, irritating voice chirping at high volume.

"I don't know how you're doing it! Really -- If it were me, there's just no way I wouldn't be trying to physically remove him from her grip! I mean, I'm just his aunt, and I can barely stand to look!"

"Amy."

"Did you see the way she was hanging off him? Walking across that floor like she owned the place. I tell you, she's always known how to rub everyone's nose in it whenever she pulls off another one of her stunts."

"Amy."

"I honestly don't understand it. I just don't. Nikolas always liked nice girls. Did you ever meet Sarah Webber? She was so sweet, she'd make your teeth hurt! And then ROBIN --"

"Amy," Laura's voice sounded fatigued. Carly stood frozen in her stall, too much in shock at her misfortune to move, let alone barrel out the door and throw Amy up against the wall. God, why couldn't she just get a break? Why was she stuck here, standing like a deer in the headlights while her mother-in-law prepared to rip her to shreds?

"Two things I know about Nikolas," Laura was saying. "He's very guarded, and he's not stupid. If he is with Carly, it's because she's given him a reason to be."

Carly blinked. What?

"Yeah, she's given him a reason, all right," Amy sniffed. "She's probably given that reason to half the men --"

"AMY!" Laura's voice raised in pitch to such a degree that Carly winced. "My God, you're talking about my son."

"Technically, I'm talking about your son's wife."

"And Bobbie's daughter!" Laura argued. "My niece. God, my daughter-in-law!" There was the sound of something being dropped, retrieved. Light muttering. Then she heard Laura speak again. Her voice was soft now, free of irritation. "Did you see the look on his face?"

"Yeah..." A sigh of resignation. "He looks pretty smitten, doesn't he?"

"He looks at her the same way Lucky looked at Elizabeth when they first got together. It's that same look -- like he's almost afraid to take his eyes off her. And when they were going to the table -- he looked so protective. It was sweet and..."

Carly swallowed hard. She wrapped her arms around herself and willed no one else to come into the room and interrupt this.

"Well," Amy was grumbling. "I'm not saying Nikolas doesn't have good intentions."

"I'm not really in any position to pass judgment, Amy." Sound of rummaging in a purse. "Nikolas doesn't talk to me about his personal life. He doesn't talk to me at all, if he can avoid it. And I don't know Carly very well, but... I have a hard time feeling too violent about anyone who can get my son to smile that way."

"You know --"

"Amy!" Laura let out a laugh. "I love you, but so help me God, if you say anything like what I think you're going to say --"

"Oh, you think you know me so well!"

"I know I do!" Laura let out a frustrated cry. "Oh, Amy -- There used to be times - when I first met him -- He was always so angry and bitter -- but then he'd be with Lulu and you could just see it -- how much he loved his sister. She delighted him. There's no other word for it. She just opened his heart up. I haven't seen him look that honestly happy in so long. But he looks happy with her. I think he really really loves her and --"

Carly turned, suddenly, and snapped open the lock on the stall. It fell open, slamming with a loud clang against the other stalls and spilling Carly into the main room.

"Carly!" Laura had jumped at the sound, turning to stare at the woman in front of her. Her face paled visibly -- just like it had the last time the two women at met. Carly just stared at her. Gaped. After a moment, she shook her head and turned. She didn't want to talk to her. She didn't have anything to say -- and she was scared -- actually scared to hear what her mother-in-law might have to say back.

Loves me.

She pushed open the door and stumbled back into the room that lead back to the ballroom.

Loves me.

Carly felt light headed. She looked around wildly, wanting to see someone -- something -- that might make those words make sense to her. Laura thought she made Nikolas happy. And she thought he loved her.

Breathe in. Breathe out. All right, when did the lights in here get so bright?

He can't...

She spotted a set of doors at the far end of the room, both propped open.

I don't want him to.

She started towards them. Fresh air. She just needed some fresh air.

I don't want to...

Something. She needed something.

I don't want to love him.

A man, one of the waiters, appeared in the door way, tucking something into his pocket. She felt something go off in her head. Bingo!

"Hey...." Carly sidled up to the waiter and flashed her trademark smile. "Can I bother you for a cigarette?"