Chapter Fifty-Six:
Honeymoon

"What's this?"

Christine Galloway was standing in front of her desk, holding a formal envelop in her hand that looked similar to an invitation. She looked up at the office administrator in confusion.

"Messenger dropped it off," she shrugged. "Check out the back."

She flipped the envelop over, and raised her brow. "What --"

"It's a crest," the woman smirked at her. "Looks like someone's trying to start pulling your strings, huh? Told you that case was going to get crazy."

She pasted on a thin smile. "The Quartermaines?" she started to open the envelop. "It's all under control..." her voice faded as she pulled out the card -- thick paper, with a short note written in black flowing script. She frowned, eyes scanning the contents.

"Bad news?"

Chris sighed and sunk down into her chair. "I don't know," she admitted. "I'll have to see."

"HEY! MOM!"

Bobbie started from where she was sitting at the breakfast table, hurriedly trying to get down a quick bowl of cereal before she had to take off for work.

"I'm in here, Lucas. You don't have to yell," she finished the sentence just as her son rounded the counter, coming into the kitchen through the living room.

"You got a letter," he tossed it onto the table, Cassadine Insignia landing face up. "From the Men in Black."

Bobbie frowned, picking it up, as Lucas flopped into the chair across from her.

"Where did you find this?"

"Hall carpet."

If this is Stefan's attempt at an apology, she thought grimly as she ripped it open, so help me God...

But it wasn't an apology. It wasn't even Stefan. She grimaced.

"So?" Lucas was tapping his fingers impatiently on the table top. "What is it?"

"Nikolas," she muttered, as she read the quick sentences. "He's taken your sister out of town."

If asked, Caroline Cassadine, wouldn't be able to explain exactly how she'd come to be here. In more dazed moments, she wasn't sure she could explain how she'd come to be Caroline Cassadine at all, let alone how an early morning conversation with her husband on a boat in the Port Charles Harbor had landed her...

Well. Wherever the hell this place was.

She was standing in an enclosed porch, wrapped up in a crocheted bedspread. Staring out at the mountainous hills that protected this valley. Green -- everywhere. Trees set against a clear blue sky. Long green slopes with abandoned ski-lifts running up the sides. There was sun, though the cottage was set back amongst a grove of trees, shaded from all elements. It made her feel apart from everything. Like this was just a scene from a movie -- surround sound, maybe, but something she was watching from afar. Someone else's life.

It had started, as best she could recall, with a cell phone. Her cell phone, to be exact. A tiny little lump of silver and black plastic that had been living at the bottom of a purse she'd barely paid attention to in the last week. To be honest, she'd very nearly forgotten she even owned the thing. She had yet to use it. And she wouldn't have thought of it that morning, either, if she hadn't dumped the contents of her bag all over the bed in an attempt to find her hair brush.

Which, incidentally, was missing.

She'd waken up feeling ... aware. Her body, her surroundings, her mind. It all felt present. She was tangled up in Nikolas -- his breath on her, his arms holding her close. She'd rolled over, carefully, to be faced with him -- lying next to her, eyes closed in sleep. God, the sight of him made her heart stop. He did sleep very well. It was rare, that she was awake when he wasn't. And he did look beautiful when he was asleep. She'd never really thought that phrase about a lover before. But it fit. The stillness of him. The way his hair, mussed, fell across his forehead. How dark his eyelashes were against his skin. And the slight part of his lips... She was without resistance. As much as she loved watching him like this, she'd felt compelled to kiss him. Gently bringing him from slumber and waking his body with hers.

That had been easy. Things hadn't gotten weird until Nikolas had left to get breakfast. Something she was fully in favor of, because she was suddenly starving. And, for reasons that were starting to irk her, Nikolas was far more organized about facing the day than she was. Because HE had amenities and clothes on the boat. She'd idiotically moved all her stuff to the island because... well. She'd needed it. The only things she had to pull herself together were in her purse. Which was how she'd ended up sitting alone staring at the contents.

This, she'd thought dully, is what's wrong with my life. She was wandering through life with a bag containing a few pens, not necessarily in working order, a make-up bag the size of her fist, and half a roll of Certs. Three Tic-tacs that had been there God knows how long. The very end of a pack of Trident. Her key -- singular -- which she'd never even tested on the front door of the house. She didn't even have a wallet -- her cash was stuffed into a change purse, and her ID was pushed into the pocket of a day planner from 1998. To her credit, she'd at least tossed the 'planner' part, and was only using the note pad, address book and pockets -- stuffed with bits of paper, and a few old pictures of Michael. In among all this garbage -- a cell phone. The first real thing Nikolas had bought her, if you didn't count her wedding ring.

She was still staring at the chaos when Nikolas got back. Bounding into their room again with the energy of a golden retriever who'd just been let out after a long, lonely incarceration. He was exuberant -- no other word for it. Full to bursting, grinning endlessly. It was her doing. She knew that. She just didn't know what to do with it. Besides smile back, and keep trying to get her head together.

He'd greeted her with a long kiss, dropping the bag containing breakfast in her lap, and only handed over the black coffee when he'd finally pulled back.

"Light cleaning?" he'd asked, as he'd stretched across the foot of the bed. She'd nodded, handing him his half of their meal.

"Gotta start somewhere..." she'd sipped on the coffee while she'd continued to go through the remnants of her life. He watched while he ate, his eyes never moving away from her. She felt uneasy about that, too. Feeling more disgusted with herself than actually embarrassed by the representative mess she'd just spilled out on their bed. After the night before, the concept of embarrassment in front of Nikolas was pretty relative. If she let herself think about it, she was going to flush beat red for days. Which was saying a lot, since she honestly couldn't remember the last time she'd blushed before she'd met him. But Christ, the things he got her to say. Nope -- better to focus on the task at hand... and find something else for him to look at.

"Hey," she'd murmured, holding up a piece of paper. "Look." She'd extended her hand, handing him a crumpled piece of paper.

He unfolded it and smiled slightly. "Our bill."

"Cheapest wedding on record."

"Hey, I sprang for the roses."

She laughed softly. The roses. The hotel room. The jet ride across the country and back... She hadn't thought much about any of those things since that day. All the weird things he did for her... And he got excited about boiled water.

She reached out and picked up the phone. She hadn't really used it yet. She turned it around in her hand, frowning at it. It was off. Nikolas had given it to her, saying it was set up and charged, and she'd tossed it into her bag without much more consideration. Other things had been on her mind. Moving to Spoon Island, packing up her apartment... the Nurse's Ball.

"Is there something I should be doing with this?" she'd asked, still staring at it. Nikolas had shrugged.

"Use it as you see fit."

"No -- but don't I have to call in to activate it or something?"

"It's already been done." She'd looked up at him, vexed. "Otherwise you wouldn't know the number," he'd clarified. "I just had Cece do it when she picked it up."

"C.C..." Carly had heard the name a few times before, and hadn't given it much thought outside of knowing it was someone who worked for Nikolas. "That's a woman?"

"Cecily Monroe," Nikolas had picked up the tab off a soda can off the bedspread, missing the expression on Carly's face. "Does this serve any practical purpose?"

"I'm a slob, ok?" she knocked it out of his hand, and he grinned at her. She felt herself warm again, and turned her attention determinedly back to the phone, turning it on and checking for a dial tone. The charge was still good. "Ok -- so what about the voice mail, then?"

"Done."

"Done?"

"It should be on the paper I gave you --" he picked up a folded piece of vanilla paper he recognized as being from the note pads at Cassadine Inc. "Here."

She opened the paper and frowned down at it. Number written at the top... two more written under it. Oh.

"You haven't checked your messages?" There was a slight edge to his voice.

"No..." she started to dial in. "Who would have called me?"

There was a long silence, and Nikolas had shifted his weight. "I did."

Oh.

She wondered just how long this crippling guilt was going to stick with her. She'd let her eyes dart towards him, but he looked occupied with breakfast. Not obviously trying to avoid her, but she felt a flash of just how easy it was to hurt him. So much easier to deal with when she wasn't acknowledging his existence.

She was still considering that when the phone connected and an unfamiliar voice spoke in her ear.

"Caroline Cassadine"

She'd nearly dropped the phone, starting as another voice instructed her to enter her password. She stared at her husband, then hurriedly picked up the paper, punching in the numbers.

Caroline Cassadine.

Oh, God.

She was quickly informed that she had 9 unheard messages. She let out her breath, and decided now was better than never.

First message. "Carly. It's Jason."

There had been more, but she hadn't heard it. She'd gone cold, and at that moment, Nikolas had reached out, picking up something half hidden in the pile of junk -- flash of metal that must have caught his eye. She snapped too, and erased the message.

Second message -- same thing.

"Your key chain says Caroline."

She'd shaken her head, lips pressed together. Third message -- hang up.

"It's old," she managed. If she'd been able to move, she probably would have knocked it out of his hand. As it was, he just laid it down on the bed spread.

Fourth message, "Carly. I'm on my way home -- I wanted to..." clearing of throat, "Check. If you needed anything." a pause. "Well -- we'll talk when I get there. I... I'll see you soon."

She'd hung up the phone. Her stomach had tied itself in a knot so tight she could barely breathe. It was all there. Jason. Jason. And Nikolas -- trying. Reaching out to her. Trying to bring her over the threshold into his world, where she didn't even have to set up her own cell phone -- where her name was Caroline Cassadine. Do you need anything. She shook her head, letting the phone drop onto the bed.

"Hey," his voice had floated across the air to her.

"I'm sorry," she said for the hundredth time in the past 24 hours. "I just..."

He was pushing the contents of the purse aside, clearing a path and crawling up the bed towards her. She looked at him, letting the tears come to her eyes, and sagged back against the headboard. She'd let him pull the coffee cup out of her hand, place it unsteadily on a ledge beside the bed. His hand moved to her cheek.

"What's the matter?"

She'd reached out, her arms going around his neck, and pulling him into her. Felt his arms -- strong and warm -- wrap around her back. She let out shaken breaths, trying to loosen the lump in her throat. What was wrong? She didn't know where to begin.

"I'm not ready for this," she gasped, finally, speaking into his shoulder. "I don't want to go back to all of it."

"All of what?"

So calm, so understanding. He was breaking her heart.

"I don't know," she ground out, in frustration. "This! All of..." she stopped, shaking her head. She felt him pull her away from the wall, gathering her up into his lap. His hand was stroking her hair now. Hard comfort to take and impossible to turn away from. She tried to get her breath back. To even out her breathing.

"This is fine," she'd finally managed. "This is always fine. It's..." she shook her head. "Everything else. Monday -- you going to work, and me..."

Her voice had trailed off. She'd felt his lips graze her temple, and let her eyes close. What the hell was she going to do? When he left her alone again, and... There was Jason. There was a baby, and --

"I have an idea."

It had taken her a moment to realize he'd said something. Then, she'd raised her head, looking up at him.

"What?"

"Last night. You said we'd do this right this time."

"Yeah..."

"Well," he'd pulled in his breath. "Last time we just... went back. A few hours later, we were back in the middle of our lives, and..." he sighed, pushing her hair back from her face. "That was hard."

"Nikolas."

"It was hard for me, too. It'll be hard this time."

She'd reached out and gently touched his cheek. His eyes had closed a second -- she'd forgotten how he'd do that. Close his eyes when she touched him. Something about it just got to her. She pressed a light kiss to his cheek. He pulled back, eyes now opened and determined. "All I want to do is be in love with you. Without anything else. I just want to be with you. Just for a little while."

She felt the tension in her body dissipate. Just like that -- like it had never been there. She'd even smiled -- Couldn't help it. He had this weird power over her moods. And when he wasn't around exerting his influence, she found that really scary. However, at that moment, she was sitting in his lap. Resistance was futile. She'd brought her arms around his neck again and hugged him.

"We could leave," he'd said it into her shoulder. She'd pulled back immediately.

"What?"

"Well," eyes weren't quite meeting hers. "We never had a honeymoon."

She'd taken his face in her hands, forcing him to look directly at her. He was serious.

"What... We just take one? Like... now?"

"Right now."

She'd laughed, a sudden burst. "People would freak!"

"They're already freaked," he shrugged. "Besides -- it's not our style to tell people what we're doing before we do it. That much we've established."

"So you're saying we just go on a honeymoon? And not tell anyone?" Oh, God, no wonder she'd married this man. "Nikolas --" just as she was about to burst with excitement at the prospect, her entire body deflated. "I can't. Michael."

"We'll be back by Friday."

"Yeah, but what if something --"

"We can let them know. And we can tell... Someone. Someone who won't bother us. I'll give them your cell number -- That way I can avoid the four dozen people who know mine."

"Who are you putting in the vote for on that one?" she'd said, wryly. "Besides -- you already told me -- disappearing when you're the son of a Cassadine and the brother... of... a..." she stopped, the answer dawning on her. "Hold up."

He started to smile. "It's just a phone call."

"What are you going to do?"

Nikolas turned, reaching for her cell phone. "Appeal to my brother's baser instincts."

Carly had never had a whole lot of use for Lucky -- and the feeling was mutual -- but hell if it hadn't worked. She wasn't sure what the deal was -- but cars had been swapped and Nikolas had met her again in possession of one of Lucky's 'get out of dodge' credit cards. They'd escaped Port Charles by mid-afternoon, and ... well, having fallen asleep in the car, she now had no idea where they'd landed. She didn't want to know. She just knew she felt safe here. From the threats of PC, and... mostly from herself. Her brain was being deliciously quiet. Any time it started to kick up a fuss, Nikolas was more than capable of quieting it again.

She let her eyes close, and just listened to the silence around her. Trees blowing in the breeze -- she could smell earth, and flowers. In some remote part of herself, she knew this was dangerous. She was doing what she kept telling herself not to. Letting go -- letting him take care of everything. Giving in to what she'd wanted to do all along . Forget everything that was wrong, and just feel still. It had been so long since she'd really felt like this. She wasn't sure she'd ever felt like this.

She heard a sound behind her, and smiled softly, opening her eyes just as Nikolas's arms came around her waist, the heat of his body pressing against her back. He buried his face into the crook of her neck, and let out a low, rumbling sigh. She leaned back against him.

"Morning," she breathed.

He grunted in response, and turned her around, taking her mouth this his. Repetition was not making him any less demanding. If anything, his desire for her just seemed to grow. She could feel, now, how much he must have been holding back. It felt boundless -- familiar. Too close to how she felt inside. All of that was starting to gel -- if not in her mind, then some place else. In whatever part of her was blocking off her ability to feel fear. The part that knew she was falling, and wasn't doing a damn thing to help her hold on.

"You're going to catch something if you're not careful," she told him, pulling back slightly. He pulled her right back.

"Then come back to bed," he murmured, between kisses.

"Hmmm," she opened her arms, wrapping the blanket around his naked form, and pulling his body against hers. "Twist my arm."

"He's in there, isn't he?"

Cece was standing in front of the heavy oak door that separated the new from the old -- the streamlined, sleek reception of Cassadine Inc. from the Old World Mentality that ruled the day in the actual offices. She could FEEL the disturbance in the air. The energy was radiating from behind the closed door. She knew. She just knew --

"I'm sorry, what?"

Cece gave a heavy sigh and turned to look at Danielle, perched behind the reception desk, her brain having successfully navigated the 20 second time delay between question asked and answer given.

"Mr. Cassadine."

"Oh," her eyes widened. "I didn't ask his name."

"No," Cece murmured. "You wouldn't want to do that. Better to just let the unknown wander right into the office."

"He had a pass!"

"Yeah, that wasn't my idea."

"Who is he?"

"Mr. Cassadine?" she waited for the girl to catch the obvious connection. She just stared back her new boss in expectation. It was like having a conversation with a window. "He's the janitor. If I'm not back in ten minutes, call security to come pry him off me," she turned, waving her pass in front of the pad by the door. "Or housekeeping. Wouldn't want them to miss him."

She flat out did not get paid enough for this crap. There was no amount of money that Nikolas could possibly wave at her when and if the weasel ever dared to show his face in these parts again, that would make up for THIS. The only choice was to stick around and make the sucker paaaaaaay. In blood, in sweat, in --

"Mr. Cassadine!" she breezed into Nikolas's office, where, indeed, the Man Who Would Not Be Prince was standing, back to her, gazing out the window. "WHAT a surprise."

The sarcasm wasn't lost on her visitor, and he turned, an eyebrow raised and stared at her. She looked back at him with borderline boredom. It got old, this ongoing power line stuff. She thanked God every time her paths crossed with this guy that Nikolas hadn't ever given her any attitude about their roles. He just submitted to her obvious superiority -- it worked out well.

"Is there something I can help you with?" she asked, finally. Best to just get this over with.

"You can tell me where my son is."

"Ah," she nodded, crossing to the desk and busying herself unnecessarily by going through some papers. "He sent you a note yesterday, I delivered it to Mrs. Lurch myself," she tisked her tongue. "I have more trouble ferrying communications between Port Charles and that Island. . ."

"I received the note."

Cece glanced up at him. "Then you know where he is."

"No," he stepped swiftly away from the window, crossing to the opposite side of the desk. "I know where he is not."

"And you think I can help you with that?"

"I don't recall the last time you didn't have instant knowledge of Nikolas's every move."

She arched an eyebrow. "That would be his marriage. I found out with the rest of the serfs when I opened the paper on Monday," she snapped her fingers. "Hey -- Speaking of which. Did you guys ever work out a list to send announcements to? Because I have a stack on my desk, and no idea what dark corners of the earth --"

"I am in no mood for your games, Ms. Monroe."

She must have missed the five second timeframe in which this man had enjoyed her 'games'.

"So what are you going to do? Fire me?" she cocked her head to one side. "Nikolas always just hires me back and I get a big bonus -- Actually, go ahead. I'm saving up for a condo."

"I need to speak to him."

She sighed. "And he doesn't want to be spoken to. Besides -- aren't you supposed to be able to find anyone, anywhere?"

"I do not have THE TIME!"

Cece straightened up. It wasn't the first time Stefan Cassadine had raised his voice to her, but it was sure as hell the first time she'd seen him nearly vibrate with the force of it. She felt, for just a second, threatened. That really pissed her off.

"Look," she leaned forward, palms flat on the desk. "I don't know where he is."

"That's not acceptable."

"Jesus," she murmured. "What do you want me to do? Storm the Bastille? I don't. Know. Where. He is."

"Nikolas would not disappear without giving someone the means to get in touch with him!"

"Yeah, well -- that person's not me."

He narrowed his eyes at her, and she held the gaze, while her mind raced, trying to come up with anything -- anything -- that might put the guy off.

"He might check in!" she allowed, finally. "That's the best I can do for you."

"Very well," Stefan pulled out the chair from behind the desk. "Then I will wait."

"What?" her voice neared screeching level.

"You're dismissed."

"You're demented!"

He glanced at her. "I'm certain, in my son's absence, you have work to attend to."

"This is a real healthy relationship you two have going here, you know that? Real America's Most Fucked Up material."

His eyes went ice cold. "I suggest, if you value your position here, that you keep your comments to yourself. I can relieve you of more than your job, Ms. Monroe."

She stared at him. A chill -- a distinct chill -- started up her spine. What the hell had Nikolas left her with?

"You know what?" she said, taking a step back. "Knock yourself out. Hey -- maybe you can run him out of town for good."

She didn't wait for a response, just turned and made for the door as quickly as her legs would carry her. She slammed the door with all the force she could muster, then leaned back against it, staring with empty eyes into the space in front of her. She was quaking with rage -- her body actually shaking from it. She was going to kill him, she thought as she pulled out her cell phone and hit the redial. She was absolutely going to kill him.

"You have reached the voice mail of Caroline Cassadine. Leave a message after the beep."

"Your father is out of control," she hissed into the phone. "Do something about it!"

With that, she shut the phone, and started towards reception, to take the experience out on Danielle.

"Where'd he take her?" Lucas was leaning dangerously far back in his chair, looking concerned.

"It doesn't say," Bobbie threw the card towards him -- there was nothing in it that Lucas couldn't read. Just a few curt sentences. "Just that, if anything happens, we should call Lucky."

Lucas choked, sitting up and bringing the chair down on the floor again. "Lucky?"

"That's what it says," Bobbie bit her lip.

"Wow," Lucas shook his head and said exactly what Bobbie was thinking. "He must really want to hide from something."

"Lucas," she said, tiredly. "We don't know that."

Lucas snorted. "Why else would he call Lucky? And he isn't saying where they went!"

"They probably just want some time alone. They've... had a rough week," she made a vague gesture with her hand. "Are you ready for school?"

"Last day. All I have to do is pick up my report card and clean out my locker," he picked up the card, flipping it over in his hands. "Do you think Carly's ok?"

"She's fine, sweetie."

Lucas looked unconvinced. "Then why does he say to call Lucky if anything happens. Like what?"

"Well, you know what this town is like," she forced a smile. "Anything can happen. He's just being careful."

Jason had found Robin in their room when he'd gone upstairs in the wee hours of the morning. She was sitting on the end of the bed, staring down at the floor. Looking lost. Frail and small. He'd seen her and something in him had just collapsed. It was the end of an incredibly long night. He was exhausted, having been out all night doing a lot of not-being-home. The penthouse was too big for one person. He'd barely spent any time there solo since he'd taken it over from Sonny. The first few months, before Carly had appeared on his doorstep. Since then, the place had always had at least one other occupant. He'd preferred it that way. Without Robin, it had echoed.

"You're back."

She'd nodded, not looking up at him. "I need to talk to you."

"Yeah," he'd shut the door behind him. "I know."

She'd raised her eyes to him -- hollow, sad, scared eyes. And... conversation had ceased. The fatigue, the emotional weight of it -- he didn't even ask how long she'd been sitting there. He'd just walked to the bed, and fallen onto it, pulling her down with him. She'd let out a sob almost immediately, turning her body into him and burying her head against his chest. He'd let her cry. Held her and stared at the wall until she stilled, and he slowly found his way into sleep.

Now... It was morning. He was standing on the stairs, watching Robin at the dining room table, where she was gazing out the window. It was quiet. It was still. And any second, The Talk was going to start.

If it had been a few days earlier, he probably would have had more to say. But time had dulled his sense of things. The fatigue had started to drag him down after Cassadine's powerplay visit. He'd stopped calling Carly after that. He'd been pretty clear, what the lack of response had meant, but her husband had confirmed it. The damage was done. And as the days had stretched on, missing his wife had taken up space from the anger. Or changed it, at least. Made it equal parts her actions vs. his frustration with the situation. With the fact that she hadn't come home.

He let out his breath and descended the last few stairs, bringing Robin's attention over to him. He stopped, and she looked at him warily. Like she was scared. He didn't know what do think about that.

"I wasn't sure you'd still be here," he said, heavily, as he moved towards his desk.

"I live here," she said dully. "Right?"

"Yeah," he'd picked up a few papers he was supposed to be interested in. Scanned the top page, then let them drop. "But you haven't been here."

"I was with Uncle Mac."

"I figured."

Her chair scrapped across the floor as she stood up. "You didn't call."

He turned to face her. "I know."

"I didn't expect you to," she was frowning at the floor again. "I know you're angry."

"I don't get it, Robin."

"I know." She let out an empty laugh. "I didn't really get it at first, either." She looked up at him. "Did you talk to Carly?"

He shook his head. "Nikolas."

"Nikolas?"

"He wasn't happy."

"No," she twisted her hands together. "I saw him, too."

There was more. Jason could tell. And he waited for it.

"And I saw Carly."

That, he hadn't been expecting. He pulled his head back in surprise. "You what?"

"I know," she took a deep breath, then squared her shoulders, looking him directly in the eye. "I know what happened between you. The night you told her we were engaged."

The words fell to the floor, baggage just tossed down at his feet. He moved his head slightly -- almost shaking it -- while his brain rolled that information around. It had absolutely no place to put it. But then -- it never had.

"You always knew," he said finally. "You said you didn't want to talk about it."

Robin catapulted herself away from the table, rushing towards him. "I knew something happened! I never knew what! You never told me!"

"You told me not to!" he fired back, raising his voice to a yell. "You said it was over!"

"How the hell can I say it's over?" her voice started to quake. "How can I know that, Jason?"

"I don't know, Robin," he took a step forward. "How do you know anything? How do you know -- "

He was stopped dead when the front door to the penthouse opened, the guard outside leaning in.

"Jason?"

"What?" he spit out, not taking his eyes off his wife.

"News."

He shook his head. "Not now, Renaldo."

"Justus called," the bodyguard delivered the information anyway. "Lupe's been taken to General Hospital. The baby is coming."

Note: I honestly didn't comprehend the Justus-post-recast stuff on GH. It made the definition of no sense. The only stuff I can work my head around is the stuff that was done when Phillips still had the role. Since my timeline works a lot differently and Alexis has a job, let's just assume Justus is still taking a walk on the wild side and working for Jason. And what the heck -- let's pretend he has a life, too.