Chapter Sixty-Seven:
The Art of the Deal

"You're making me dizzy."

Carly paused in her rapid pacing -- nearly bouncing off the walls of the office with just the slightest air of Tasmanian Devil -- to glare at her uncle.

"Live with it."

He leaned back in his chair. "Gotta say, Caroline. Always a pleasure to see your smiling face."

"Go to hell," she snapped, and started pacing again. Her brain was racing -- Mind made up, while some shoulder-angel previously unheard from pleaded it's pathetic case against total self-annhiliation.

"Any ETA on when you might figure out what you're doing here?"

"I know what I'm doing here."

"Uh huh." His eyes followed her on another lap across the room. "So which one was it? Big Drac or Little Drac?"

He barely got the word out of his mouth when a cup full of pencils and other disused writing instruments bounced off his forehead. "Hey!" Luke leapt to his feet, grabbing her arm as she reached for another desktop knickknack. "None of that."

"Get off of me!" she wrenched away from him. "And don't even fucking THINK about talking that kind of shit about Nikolas."

Luke rubbed his head, sorely. "I say what I want when it comes to Cassadines."

"Fine," she shrugged, crossing her arms. "and I throw what I want at people who attack my husband."

"Getting a little touchy there, aren't you?" he dropped back into his chair. "They're just words, sweetheart. Lots worse things been thrown that boy's way." He looked pointedly at her arm. "How those bruises of yours healing?"

It took her a second to figure out what he was referring to. Right... she'd very nearly managed to block their last meeting out.

"Distant memory."

"Played pretty coy with that one, princess."

"It wasn't any of your business," she shrugged. "And only an idiot would think that was about Nikolas."

"You think so? Seems like every little thing with you these days is about Little Nikky," he gave a cold smile and leaned forward, elbows propped on the desk. "And I think this display here's got something to do with him, too. So what's it going to be, kiddo? Are you going to tell me what's going on, or do you want me to make another guess?"

She glared at him. He was vile. He was hateful. He was, without doubt, the most abhorrent human being she'd ever come across in her life.

"I was just wondering," she growled at him from between clenched teeth. "Are you're still looking for a waitress?"

There had been a time when Nikolas was actually good at his job. He was sure at this -- he'd excelled. Better than average, certainly. It had been something he'd been able to do without much effort and he'd never really appreciated that until this past few weeks...

His ability to concentrate now felt like such a distant memory, he'd begun to suspect it was propaganda. It seemed unfathomable that he'd ever been able to work up interest in something this mind-bogglingly boring. Staring down at some numbers the company savant had sent him, he was paying more attention to the doodling and note choices made by his employees than he was to the content -- His favorite, an arrow pointed at a cost projection number, with the word "GREAT" scrawled next to it. Two exclamation points. And a smile drawn under them.

It would just never occur to him to express himself that way. And if it did, it would never occur to him to fax it to someone.

He heard a click, indicating his office door had been opened. Which meant, no doubt, that Cece had returned to point out another fire she'd extinguished while he'd been in absentia. He had never been very good at penance and this was beginning to tick him off.

"Yes?" he asked, as he made his own non-smiling note in the margin.

It was met with silence. Then shuffling, then "Hey".

Nikolas snapped to attention, looking up to see Lucas standing just inside his door, with the posture of someone who'd been waiting for a bus for a very long time.

"Hi," he didn't manage to keep the surprise out of his voice.

Lucas nodded towards the door. "The chick at the desk said I could just come in."

So much for Daphne.

"Yeah, you can come in," Nikolas let his pen drop to the desk top. "Close the door."

Lucas obliged, left standing awkwardly on the spot, eyes flitting across the floor. Nikolas was attempting to come up with a non-threatening next line -- he'd decided 'what are you doing here' wasn't going to cut it -- when Lucas suddenly turned and started to wander across the office.

"So," he said, clapping his hands together as he walked. "This is where you work?"

"Most of the time."

"High," he commented, as he reached the window.

"So that we can look down on people." He stared blankly at the sheen on the desk's lacquered finish before letting out his breath. "I'm sorry. It's been a long day."

"It's noon."

"Exactly."

Lucas smirked slightly in a way that was familiar. Something Carly tended to do. Enough to give developmental psychologists a headache trying to work out the nature/nurture of that common mannerism.

"So," he started, deciding to just cut to the heart of that matter, "What --"

He was cut off by that distinctive click again, this time accompanied by the clip of heels and Cece's very bored "I can move the conference call to three, but if you want --"

She also stopped dead just inside the door, staring at the unexpected occupant. "What's that?"

Nikolas followed her gaze, then looked back at her. "That's a brother-in-law."

"He looks twelve."

"He is twelve."

She shot Nikolas a look. "How old was this girl you married?" She shook her head. "Never mind. I don't want to know. How did he get in?"

"I walked," Lucas said a little defiantly, before turning to Nikolas. "Is she for real?"

"To an alarming degree."

"Did someone LET you in here?" she demanded.

"Cece, it's fine."

"Sure, it's fine for you. You don't have to spend your day surrounded by incompetence." She threw a hand up in the air. "Conference call -- three. But it'll only be the owner and the CEO."

"That's fine."

"It better be," she started out of the room then pivoted back to him. "And what are you doing about lunch?"

Nikolas turned his head towards his Lucas who was still staring at Cece like she was growing a second head. "Lucas."

He shook his head slightly. "You have weird taste in women."

Nikolas decided it was best to ignore that, particularly considering the way Cece was arching her eyebrow at him. "Have you had lunch?"

"You offering?"

"Why not?"

Lucas glanced at the window again, then shrugged. "Sure. But you're paying."

Bobbie walked down the hall, telling herself with every step, to turn around and head back to the elevator. There was no reason to do this. She was a strong, capable, independent woman, able to conduct her own personal relationships without running to other people and fathering covert information. Asking needy questions, or, God forbid, requesting help.

The further she got down the hall, the more she had to admit one of these things was going to happen. It had been inevitable from the moment Amy had sidled up to her, a knowing glint in her eye and said "Stefan Cassadine just walked in and he looks like he's going to kill someone."

Yes, Amy was one happy gossip at the moment. She was very nearly bubbling over the side, so stuffed full of news, rumor and speculation. Star of the show? Bobbie's brand new son-in-law &endash; who, for the first time since he'd been at GH in an official capacity, was garnering some bad press. Solid fact? Edward Quartermaine had quit the board. Rumor? Nikolas had forced his hand. More disturbing than that &endash; Gail had suddenly ceased to be Carly's therapist. There were virtually no details on that, but the rumors made it sound like she'd very nearly been threatened at knifepoint. The overall speculation?

That Nikolas, a previous innocent, had been set on the path of corruption. There were two theories -- one, that he was merely a puppet on a string, obeying the every whim of his seductress wife -- OR that he was just prone to evil and now he was finally showing his true colors.

She was having a very hard time figuring out which scenario offended her more. She felt equally defensive of both of them, and the volume of ire was reaching dangerous proportions.

She heard him before she saw him -- which was unheard of. The slamming of a file drawer, footsteps across the linoleum. She stopped just outside the door and listened. More sounds of discontent. Too much energy, too much containment. She swore under her breath. She'd naively allowed herself to hope that Amy's sources were given to exaggeration -- after all, Stefan's dour demeanor was perpetual and it took a lot for a bad mood to be notable.

Or visible to outsiders.

She should go back to the eighth floor. She did not want to expose herself. She'd gotten this man out of her life a long time ago. She liked it that way. There was no reason to change it just because their children had married.

She felt a familiar sharp pang in her stomach and grimaced. Nice try, Barbara. She missed Carly more than she could describe -- that feeling wasn't exactly diminishing with prolonged absence. And there was no doubt that Stefan had seen her. She rolled her eyes upwards, directing a 'why me?' to the Gods and stepped forward to meet her fate.

Stefan was sitting at his desk, arms folded so that one elbow was propped on the arm and his fisted hands pressed against his mouth while he stared murderously at the desk top. She felt something in her shrink. Damnit, something had happened. And the chances of it not involving Carly directly were minimal. She told herself to turn back again. She should just go to the damn island, tell Carly this was all stupid, and --

"Come to gloat, Barbara?"

Or she could stay here and have yet another fight with her ex-husband.

Decisions, decisions.

Bobbie raised her brow, and folded her arms across her chest. "You tell me. Is there something I should know about?"

"You wanna run that one by me again?"

Carly shrugged her shoulders, turning away from Luke's scrutinizing gaze. "You were looking for a waitress, right?"

"Yeah, about a month ago. And as I recall, you threw the offer right back in my face."

"Well," Carly exhaled, tossing herself down into the chair opposite him. "As I recall, it was a pity-offer."

"It was throwing water-wings at a drowning girl," his eyes were hard and they were not drifting from hers. "But she told me she'd rather sink."

"I'm a little more seaworthy than you thought," she smirked, holding up her left hand and wiggling her fingers. "I found someone with a whole boat."

"Which begs the question -- why the change of heart?"

She shrugged slightly. Because he was the enemy she knew? Because she still felt sick to her stomach when she thought about those papers? At the thought of her whole marriage being reduced to monetary issues? Because she'd had 36 dollars in her bank account the last time she checked? Because she felt hurt, angry, rejected and this would piss her so-called father-in-law off in every possible way?

Very possibly, all of the above.

"Awfully quiet over there, Sweetheart," Luke observed. "Marriage hitting the rocks already?"

"You'd love that, wouldn't you?" she spat viciously. "You'd just LOVE to see Nikolas dump me right on my ass -- well, keep dreaming. It isn't going to happen!" There was just a little too much desperate rage dripping off the end of her mini-rant, and Luke seemed to drink it up. A slow smile slithered over his features.

"Caroline," he admonished, sitting back in his chair. "You're not using me to stir up some trouble, are you?"

"What does it matter what I'm using you for?" she slouched down in her chair. "You said you needed someone to wait tables. I've decided I want a job after all. And then there's the part where you'd get to check up on me pretty much every free minute -- make sure I'm not growing bat wings or something. Find out what's going on at Cassadine Headquarters. I thought you'd love that."

"Be still my heart. Are you offering to spy for me?"

Carly snorted. "Spy on what? I can tell you what color underwear Nikolas has on, if that does something for you --"

"Please. Not at lunch time."

"But nothing else is going on!" she yelled the words over him. "No plans for world domination, no dragons in the basement -- far as I can tell there's not even a princess locked up in the tower --"

"Don't kid yourself, darlin'. Give them time, that princess will be you."

She smirked at him. "Come on. We both know I make a terrible princess."

"Maybe. Guess the question is -- what kind of princess does Big Papa think you make?"

Carly looked away, quickly. Her chest squeezed tight on her exhale, and she found it nearly impossible to bring any air back into her lungs.

"You know the answer to that question," she spoke with more quiver than she wanted. "Nikolas was supposed to marry Eurotrash -- not white trash."

"Sounds like your fairy tale's taken a detour."

She made a noise that was supposed to be dismissive. "Happens," she managed.

"Sorry to hear it," Luke tossed the words at her callously -- they held all the meaning of a trash tabloid. "But what does that have to do with me?"

She stared hard at the wall. Nothing, she wanted to tell him. Not a damn thing. Just wanted to come by here, show off my fabulous new life and tell you to go do something anatomically challenging with yourself. I'm not asking for help. I'm not asking for you to get me out of this mess.

"I told you," she said, finally -- her voice low and dangerous. "I want a job."

"I hired someone, baby doll."

"Then fire her!" she turned her eyes back on him. "This is a family thing."

"I thought you weren't part of this family anymore -- didn't you say that? You're a Cassadine now?"

"I'm Nikolas's wife," the air around her crackled as she spoke. "And I'm not letting anything get in the way of that. Not you -- and not your psycho Cassadine counterpart."

"My, my," Luke murmured, eyes flitting across her face. "He must have really did a number on you."

"He tried to pay me off!"

As expected, Luke didn't bad an eye. "Should have seen that coming."

"I don't want his money."

"Course not. Why would you when you could be making minimum wage plus tips at the best blues club in town? Tell me -- you run this little plan past your devoted hubby?" Carly's eyes flitted off to a far corner of the room and Luke chuckled. "No, I thought as much. This is more of a pissed off, storming mad, spur of the moment thing, huh?"

"Do you care?" she snapped her head back to him. "Come on. I know you're enjoying this. You've got to love the IDEA of being able to mess with Stefan again."

"Well, I don't much care what Cassadine Ineffecta does these days."

"And that's why your head nearly exploded when you found out about me and Nikolas."

"You really don't get it. They're a nest of vipers, Car-o-line. So what if the Prince of Darkness has a bent fang? Give him enough time, he'll work out a way to get the venom inside you."

She just stared at him. "That doesn't even make sense."

Luke leapt to his feet, bellowing the words at her. "They're EVIL!"

"We're insane!" she shot back. "It evens out."

He stopped short a moment, looking at her with wide, amazed eyes. Then he started to chuckle.

Man, did she hate it when he did that.

"That's beautiful," he exhaled as he dropped back into the chair. "Perfect. You hang on to that tight when one of 'em has a knife to your throat."

Carly gave a half shrug. "Hey. At least it would be direct."

"That what you're doing here?" Luke asked, mildly while he patted his pockets. "Being direct?"

"I think he'll get the message."

"Which is?"

She smiled bitterly. Good question.

"That," she formed the words carefully. "No matter how bad he thinks I am... I can always get worse."

"Not really lookin' to indulge your little revenge scenario here," Luke finally came up with a cigar and examined it with a look of fatigue before breaking it out of it's wrapper.

"Sure you are," Carly countered. "Because if you don't, then I go off some other place and you just sit here in the dark."

He glanced up at her, amused, then continued his study of his cigar. "You really think you have me nailed to something, don't ya?"

She hadn't. Not until he said that. But she found herself smiling slightly. "I know you want to have your fingers on the pulse of this situation more than I want to work here."

"Sound real sure of that."

Carly picked up a brass horse head off the corner of his desk. "Let's put it this way. I work here -- you have some degree of how I am. I mean -- I'm breathing, I'm not walking with a limp -- that kind of stuff." She glanced up at him and gave him the full 100 watt smile. "You send me away, and it's up to Mama, right? Cause you know she's going to worry. And she probably won't just take my word for how I'm doing. She's going to be coming out to the island to check on me. And she's going to be all over Nikolas -- she already is, you know. And then there's her ex-husband --"

"That's low, little girl."

"But it's so true."

Luke let out a long suffering sigh. "Suppose I find something for you to do around here. Part-time. What is it you're looking for?"

"Fair pay," she half-shrugged.

"And?"

"And I don't work Saturdays. I don't have to listen to your crap about Nikolas. In fact -- if I don't see you at all, that would probably work out fine, too."

"Don't really get my piece then, do I?"

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. Whatever. You can do inspection when I show up or something. I don't care -- just..."

"Spit it out, Babe."

She exhaled. To hell with it. "I want to know what you know. About the Cassadines -- and about Stefan." She tipped her chin up slightly. "And I want you to back me up if I need to do something to keep him from screwing up my marriage."

"Back you up?" he seemed to think that was really funny.

"You never know," she told him, flatly. "I'm just trying to be prepared."

"Just a girl scout at heart," Luke nodded slowly, then leaned forward in his chair. "Now, I gotta ask... If you're so worried about needing someone to help you keep Vlad at bay... Why don't you just have a little chat with your knight in shinning armor?"

She shifted her weight in the chair. "He's his father. You might have noticed."

Something dark flitted across Luke's eyes. "Point?"

"They have enough problems with each other. They don't need one more."

"And this way, you got blackmail."

Well. Yeah.

"Nikolas loves him," she said stubbornly. "It's a bitch, but there you have it."

Luke eyed her intently. "You trying to tell me you got some real deep down feelings for the boy?"

"That's none of your business."

"Cause women who fall for Cassadines have a real short lifespan."

"Helena Cassadine's still kicking around some place, isn't she?"

He chuckled again -- though it sounded like it was kicking it's way out of him. Tore off the end of his cigar with his teeth and fumbled around for a lighter. "Just what you need. A role model."

"Do we have something to talk about or not?"

He flicked his thumb and the flame leapt up to meet him. Carly watched with some disgust as he puffed until the cigar was lit. Then he glanced at the horse's head that Carly was still holding, heavy in her hand.

"Maybe," he exhaled and smoke drifted across the desk towards her. "You can put that down."

"I don't think so," she murmured, stroking her fingers along the mane. "You say one nasty thing about Nikolas, and this is going some place you'll find really uncomfortable."

"You think you're fast enough?"

"You're getting old."

"See, now that's just not nice."

Carly smiled slightly and leaned back in her chair. "That's what everyone seems to be forgetting here. I'm not nice. And it's a mistake to piss me off."

"Ah, Sweet Caroline," Luke grinned and kicked his feet up on the desk. "I've been waiting for you to say something like that for a long time."

Lucas Jones ate like a teenaged boy. Voraciously and intently, with little notice to those around him. Nikolas watched with mild interest, ignoring his own meal in favor of observing this kid who he had, at one point, known pretty well. Lucas had a point, though. That had been several years ago and the difference between seven and twelve wasn't subtle.

"Good?" he prodded, finally. Lucas looked up from his plate.

"One thing I remember about you guys -- you always had kickass food."

Nikolas gave a half-smile. "We try." Lucas nodded, and kept eating. Nikolas kept watching. "I get the feeling something's on your mind."

Lucas didn't look up at him. Didn't, in fact, acknowledge the comment until a good thirty seconds had gone by.

"When did you guys get home?" he asked with practiced cool, while reaching for his drink.

"Friday."

"Where'd you go?"

Nikolas hesitated just long enough to see it register with his brother-in-law. Oh boy. "Vermont."

"Really?"

"Really."

Lucas shook his head. "Why?"

"Because..." he exhaled. "It was quiet. Secluded. Not too far away."

"You wanted to get away from everyone."

"I wanted your sister to have some time alone."

"But with you," he pressed.

"Yes. With me."

"Cause of all that stuff with Jason and the baby."

"Partially."

Lucas rolled his eyes and picked up a carrot stick. He was the only kid Nikolas had ever met that actually ate his vegetables. "I figured."

"Why's that?"

"It's just..." he was now using the carrot stick to push crumbs around the plate. "I know you do that --"

"Do what?"

"You disappear." Lucas lifted his head and caught his eyes. "Even when we all lived at the island. If something bad happened, suddenly nobody knew where you were."

Nikolas sat back in his chair. All right. He was surprised. "You remember that?"

He shrugged. Attention went back to the carrot.

"That was a long time ago," he said, for lack of anything else to say. "I'm not disappearing. That's not what's happening here."

"You guys have been back since Friday. And you haven't been around the house. Either of you."

He drew in his breath, half expecting himself to come back with some lame explanation. Seemed the thing to do... But that's not what he came up with.

"No," he admitted, "We haven't been."

Lucas shrugged. Again. "Carly hasn't been around, like, anywhere since she married you."

Nikolas flinched -- though to the outside world it appeared to be something closer to a blink. He and Carly hadn't talked about the brownstone. Or Bobbie. Or, to be brutally honest, Lucas. The concentration had been elsewhere... And he had to admit, he wasn't looking forward to the third degree that Bobbie was no doubt prepping to put him through. He wasn't looking forward to anything that might upset Carly again. To be completely honest with himself? He could wait to see this resolved. But, from the looks of it, Lucas had done enough waiting.

"You miss her."

Lucas bit off the end of his carrot. "Mom does."

He nodded slightly, picking up his own beverage off the table top. "Has this happened before? That they don't talk?"

"No. They always talk. I mean -- they scream sometimes, but they still talk."

Nikolas smiled slightly into his glass. "How is your mother?"

Lucas thought about this a moment before answering, "Crazy."

"That doesn't sound good."

"She on my case, like, all the time. I mean -- she's always on my case, but it's really bad right now, cause she's freaking about Carly."

Nikolas raised his brow. "Astute observation."

His brother-in-law frowned at him. "Yeeeeaaaah..." he took a moment to chug the rest of his drink, then pushed his chair back from the desk. Consumption had ceased. "I kinda wanted to ask you something."

"Go ahead."

Without any food to occupy his attention, Lucas was now possessed with an excess of energy. His knee bounced rapidly while he watched Nikolas with wary eyes. "Are you going to make Carly make up with Mom?"

Nikolas jerked his head back, not bothering to hide his surprise. "Make her?"

"Well -- you know. Get her to."

"The longer I know your sister, the more I doubt my ability to get her to do anything."

Lucas smiled at that. A slow, knowing, tell me about it smile. "Someone's always gotta push her when she's mad about something, though," he pointed out. "Like you don't say 'Hey, do this' cause... Well. She'll kill you. But she won't do anything until someone makes her."

"How do you suggest I do that?" Nikolas asked, laughing. "Tell her not to go see your mother?"

It was a joke, but Lucas gave it consideration. "Yeah. That could work."

"Is this why you came here today?" he asked, incredulous and amused. "You want me to help get your mother and sister talking again?"

"Guess so," Lucas's eyes flitted away. Nikolas watched him carefully. For all his display of apathy, he could read the worry bubbling under the surface. Fear. It struck him, again, how different Lucas was now. Guarded and careful -- protected. And looking out, in his way, for his sister. His mother. That was really the only family the kid had these days.

"Carly's fine right now," he said, saving Lucas the agony of asking. "She's actually doing pretty well. But... I think maybe I should let her and Bobbie work things out on their own time."

Lucas snorted. "Right. Cause that'll happen."

"I just think she needs more time," Nikolas started only to be met with a look of absolute teen disgust. He exhaled. "I'll talk to her."

"That's a start," Lucas muttered, hauling his knapsack up over his shoulder. "I guess. See ya around."

He started out of the office and Nikolas was on his feet, calling after him, immediately. "Lucas!"

He waited for the dramatic 'what now' turn around. Once that was accomplished he put his arms out in a gesture of futility. "I'll do what I can. But... this was hard on her. The thing with the baby --"

"Jason," Lucas spat the name out. "Yeah. It pretty much always is."

"It might take some time," Nikolas said quietly. He didn't like the look on the kid's face. At all. "I don't know how quick Carly's going to get over this. I just want her to be ok."

"Cause you love her," Lucas's eyes were narrowed and accusing. "Right?"

"Right," Nikolas said without hesitation, though in a distant region in his brain he was thinking this must be something similar to what it felt like to have a father-in-law. "I love her."

Lucas stared at him in scrutiny. Then nodded. "Good."

Then he turned, pulled open the office door, and was gone.

Stefan looked at her with something nearing contempt before pushing back from his desk and getting to his feet.

"Caroline still hasn't contacted you, then."

"Should she have?" Bobbie's mouth twisted, moving into a gut-instinct sneer. "You always say things like that as if you don't know exactly what's going on. Remember who you're talking to."

"If you're hoping I'll provide you with some bridge to repair your hopelessly dysfunctional relationship with your daughter," Stefan didn't even look at her as he spoke, instead flipping through some papers stacked to the side of the desk. "Then I'm sorry to disappoint, but there doesn't seem to be anything I can do to help."

Bobbie's mouth fell open. Though she knew damn well from her last altercation with Stefan the gloves were off, but that was just flat out obvious. She narrowed her eyes. "Ok. What is going on?"

He lay his hands flat on the desk top. "What leads you to believe there's something is 'going on'?"

"For starters? You're having an actual mood."

He stared at her a long moment, still apart from his breathing. Then he straightened up. "I don't have time to play games with you, Barbara --"

"Whoa!" the word burst out of Bobbie, fueled by a bitter laugh. "Let me mark down the time. Five years, some odd-months. Stefan Cassadine finally tires of screwing with my head. This must be big," she stepped into the office and slammed the door shut with a flick of her wrist. "What did you do?"

Stefan glared at her. Openly and with disdain. It was downright exhilarating. "I have work to do."

"Not in this state, you don't," Bobbie looked him up and down, unapologetically. "Remember who you're talking to. I can read you better than anyone in this hospital..." her eyes traveled back up to his. "And you look like you're about to blow."

"Be careful, Barbara," he spoke in a low, rumbling voice that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. "You nearly look as if you're enjoying this."

She lifted her brow. "It's been awhile since you've actually looked human to me."

His eyes were dark and fixed on her. "And you take pleasure in that, do you?"

"I've got this sneaking suspicion, if you're this mad? My daughter just might be behind it." She leaned in slightly. "I know the look."

What happened next took her by surprise. Stefan lifted the pile of papers off the desk and slammed them down with magnificent force. They exploded -- rising up into the air again and then fluttering back to the floor, the desk, Bobbie's shoes. She stepped back, eyes wide while she watched a now panting Stefan observe the chaos. He paused, calibrated the effect of his tantrum, and then took a swipe at the organizer that sat on the edge of the desk. It flew straight into the wall, then clattered to the floor, spilling it's contents.

Bobbie waited until the room descended into silence, save the sound of her ex-husband's breathing. She stepped, carefully, over the papers scattered around her feet, and kicked aside a pencil that had rolled to a stop in front of her before clearing her throat.

"All right," Bobbie was relieved that her voice held none of the rush of uncertainty she felt had her by the throat. "I think you better tell me what happened."

"And why's that?" He sneered, turning back to her. "You'll know yourself, soon enough. And then I expect I can look forward to more of this --" he gestured towards her, hand cutting through the air viciously, "Celebratory attitude. IS this is what I am to you, now, Barbara? An entertainment? You'll forgive me if I don't feel moved to rush to the stage just now."

"You did something," her voice sounded tinny and far away. "Oh, God, Stefan --"

"Spare me your dramatics," he turned again, his coat flying out behind him. "No one has died, no one is bleeding, or unconscious. Nothing that would land anyone under your care."

"So what?" she stared at him. "It's not something I should concern myself with. Is that it?"

"What happens in my family," he was shouting now. Rough and dry, like the bark of a dog. "Is the concern of my family and no one else! It will be handled by the family, as the Cassadines have always handled things and I do not require your platitudes or guileless philosophy in the meantime!"

Bobbie blinked. "Well, Stefan. Don't hold back. Tell me how you really feel!"

"I feel," he threw the word back at her, "Like my son has tied his life and future to a woman who is the personification of a fault line! Who is essentially emotionally driven and entirely selfish in her motives. Who will no doubt break his heart," his voice cracked then. And just for a second she saw the fear. "At the moment, I would sell my soul to the devil himself if I could just rid Nikolas of her influence."

Bobbie felt her face heat, burning out any sympathy she might have been entertaining a moment before. "I didn't know your mother was in town."

"DO YOU THINK," he thundered back at her, "For one second that a woman as cold and clinical as MY MOTHER would stand the chance of wrecking the sort of emotional havoc with her best laid plans as Carly would with one moment of temptation."

"You can't be so certain of that. You think everyone who breathes in Nikolas's direction is going to annihilate that! He could surprise you, you know. He might be a little sturdier than you want to believe."

"He'd have to be, wouldn't he?" Stefan's mouth twisted into bitter distaste. "It's the only chance he has of surviving your daughter."

Bobbie held her ground. "You also can't be so sure that she's going to hurt him. No more than I can be that he won't be the one that hurts her!"

"Is that so?" his lips curled back, baring his teeth. "Tell me. What do you suppose would happen if Robin was to decide that Jason Morgan was too dangerous for her, after all. It's a decision she's made before, isn't it? Suppose she wandered out of that marriage tomorrow. How likely do you think it is that my son wouldn't fall victim to your daughter's unwavering devotion to that street thug?"

Bobbie shook her head like she was trying to knock the picture he drew out of it. "That's not going to happen."

"It's a marriage conceived in fantasy," Stefan nearly laughed. "Any passing idiot can see that. It will end. And my son will suffer. In the meantime, we just hope that your daughter doesn't have another one of her rages and happen upon a spare knife."

"DON'T!" Bobbie rushed across the few feet between them, feeling more than a passing rage herself. "Don't you start in on my evil offspring again! You know that fit you threw in the garden last week? Do you remember what you said to me?" She stepped closer to him and for just a second she thought she saw him start to back up. "About how Carly was dangerous. About how she hurts the men who get involved with her."

"You're not going to try to deny the truth of that."

"I'm going to deny part of it!" she drew herself up to full height. "Those bruises you were so concerned about? The ones you thought might have been from... What? Nikolas defending himself?" she couldn't help it. She leaned closer, eyes staring directly into his. "They were the work of Edward Quartermaine. Who, you've probably noticed? Just resigned for General Hospital's board. What do you think? Coincidence?"

She saw the news hit him and it was the first time -- she swore -- the first time that she had ever surprised him. This man hadn't been startled when she'd drugged his port and tried to open his lock box. But this? This must be what Stefan Cassadine looked like when he was floored.

"And where did you get this information?" he asked, his voice dripping with acrimony. "Your daughter?"

"My daughter hasn't spoken to me in over a week," Bobbie felt her throat tighten as she backed off. "You know that. It's all over the hospital -- that Nikolas made Edward resign. If you want the whole story -- ask Monica. Ask Alan. Hell -- Ask Emily. They'll all tell you. Edward is the one who crossed the line. Not Carly."

She could feel her legs shaking and she knew it was just a matter of time before that quiver rose to her spine, her arms, her voice. She had to get out of here, now, if there was any hope to hanging on to some shred of dignity. Stefan, for all his dark glowering, looked about as unsteady as she felt. She just hoped he was right -- she hoped to God that whatever had happened was going to reach her soon. There was no way she'd get it out of him. She started for the door, then stopped just as her hand touched the door knob. Turned back to him, putting on hand on her hip -- like this was nothing. Just a parting shot.

"I hope, whatever it is that you've done? That Carly and Nikolas show you a little more compassion than you've shown her. It's more than you deserve, but God knows -- Nikolas doesn't need to lose someone else he cares about."

She pulled the door open and walked quickly out of the room. She managed to make it all the way around the corner before she started to cry.

Carly burst through the door of her home, like she was expecting to catch something -- someone -- doing something with it. Gutting it of it's contents. Trashing the furniture. Lying in wait for her with a pack of lawyers... Not seeing anything, she descended the stairs, moving into the living room and looking around for any sign of... Well. Anything.

It looked exactly how she'd left it.

She turned back and looked at the coffee table. Clean -- polished -- free of legal documents. She strode back to it, making sure they hadn't just fallen under the table -- weren't hiding under the sofa cushions, prepared to leap out at her the second she turned her back.

Gone. Like her father-in-law. And her sense of security. She smiled bitterly and turned towards the phone -- a black cordless phone that she didn't even know the number for yet. She picked up the receiver for the first time and dialed a four digit number that Nikolas had shown her. She held her breath while the phone rang, eyes fixed on the picture window that over looked the lake. Stared at the water -- gray and still.

"Mrs. Landsbury," she spoke breathlessly into the phone when the extension was picked up. "It's Mrs. Cassadine. I need to talk to you. Now."