Chapter Sixty-Eight:
Honey, I'm Home

Carly threw up her hands in frustration, as she hurried along the hall, muttering to herself under her breath. She'd been doing that most of the afternoon -- quietly arguing with herself, trying to organize her thoughts and control her inner rage. She could not remember another day where she'd gotten quite THIS much done. She was riding a wave of adrenaline and exhilaration. Like she'd just saved the world, or something. Which, maybe, was what was going on here. Her world, at least. Day had started out grim. All things considered, this was a pretty good recovery.

It would be a little more impressive if she could actually dress herself, but hey. A girl can't have everything.

"Mrs. Landsbury?" she called as she hurried down the stairs in her just-a-little-too-high heels. "Are you still here?"

"Of course, Mrs. Cassadine," the patient response came from the direction of the kitchen, and the woman emerged seconds later, looking immaculate in her long black dress and white starched apron. "Is there something you need?"

She could smell food -- things roasting and simmering. Her mouth watered on cue. In the midst of all the chaos, it hadn't occurred to her to eat. Her hunger leapt up and tackled her -- stomach contracting in a hunger pang so strong it nearly hurt. Thank GOD they were eating early...

"My dress," she complained, turning her back on the housekeeper. "I can't reach the ties."

"Goodness gracious," Mrs. Landsbury observed as she examined the ties that hung loose on the back of dress. "However does this work?"

It was the dress she'd bought in Vermont. Short, black and sexy. First occasion to wear it -- she knew Nikolas was a fan, and if it was otherwise inappropriate, well... Hey. When had she ever been appropriate?

"I got the ones at the neck -- you just have to tie the two at the bottom together," she explained impatiently. "The rest will tighten up if you do that."

"I see," Mrs. Landsbury clucked her tongue, then pulled so sharply on the strings that Carly sucked in her breath.

"Um -- Ow!"

"You have to let your breath out," the woman told her, briskly. "Or it will be too tight."

Carly rolled her eyes, but obeyed. At this point, she couldn't exactly complain. She'd called the main house, demanding her presence, only four hours earlier. In that time... Well. She'd taken Mrs. Landsbury up on a few offers. Pillaged the barely used East Wing of Wyndemere, and hijacked a large portion of the staff to 'get things in order'. Mrs. Landsbury had accommodated her with an air of relief. Carly suspected the idea of Nikolas living amid the chaos they'd come home to on Saturday had been keeping the housekeeper up nights.

She let her eyes flit around the main room of the cottage while Mrs. Landsbury worked on her dress. It looked incredible, really. Beautiful antique side board in the dinning room, that held most of the crystal and dish ware she and Nikolas had unwrapped last night. Things were hung on the walls. There was a new couch -- white and polished wood. Less comfortable, but ornate and gorgeous. An Oriental carpet lay in front of it, under the coffee table. Another couple of chairs arranged precisely across from it. It wasn't quite magazine feature quality yet -- but give her time. She'd get there.

"There," Mrs. Landsbury stepped back from her just as an unfamiliar electronic noise shot through the room. Carly jumped and spun around, her heart beating a mile a minute. She stared at Mrs. Landsbury in incomprehension until it dawned.

"The phone," she blurted out. Mrs. Landsbury was frowning at her. "It's never done that before," she said by way of explanation. She turned and scurried to the source of the noise, picking it up on the third ring. "Hello?"

"Carly?"

"Yeah."

"It's Alexis Davis. I'm at the launch -- I have some papers I need you to sign --"

"Papers?" Carly felt herself go numb. God DAMN these people! "What kind of papers?"

"Nothing major, I just need your signature on a few things. I wanted to drop them off, I thought I'd check if you were home."

"Actually," she turned and glanced at the housekeeper. " Mrs. Landsbury's agreed to serve dinner at the cottage tonight, so -- " she stopped dead. Brainstorm. "Do you want to join us?"

"For dinner?" The woman said it like it was a foreign concept.

"Quail," Carly clarified. "And yeah -- There's... enough..." she paused giving Mrs. Landsbury enough time to argue or confirm -- she did neither. Just looked back at her with a quiet glow of efficiency.

These people were just weird.

"I mean," she turned away, adopting a purposely breezy tone. "You're coming all the way out here, anyway. And hey, then Nikolas will be here. Maybe he'll want to look at whatever it is I need to sign."

"I doubt it would interest him," Alexis laughed lightly. "Actually, he's just coming up the dock -- I guess I'll see you in a few minutes."

"Looking forward to it," Carly said by way of good-bye, then returned the phone to the cradle. She kept her hand there, arm extended, while her brain tried to work out just what she needed to do next.

"Alexis is coming," she said, making the words slowly and carefully.

"I'll set another place," she started back to the kitchen when there was a knock at the door. Mrs. Landsbury pivoted in place. "My word!"

"I'll get it," Carly said, hurriedly. "Just... I don't know. Baste something."

She left Mrs. Landsbury to the kitchen and hurried back across the room, smoothing the skirt of her dress as she moved. After all -- tonight above all others -- presentation counted. She was halfway up the stairs before she could make out anything definitive about the shadow on the other side of the door. Dark. Large. Foreboding.

"Daddy's home," she breathed to herself as she pulled the door open and pasted a bright smile on her face. "Stefan!" she exclaimed, throwing one arm out towards the room behind her. "I'm so glad you could come!"

He stood on the porch, stock still, expression tight. Behind him, birds were singing and a warm summer wind was blowing the trees. The sun was still bright and strong, sitting low on the horizon behind him.

"Marta gave me your note when I arrived home," he said flatly.

"Great," her face was starting to hurt from the stress of it's smile. She let her arm drop because she could feel it start to shake. "So are you going to stand there all afternoon, or are you going to come in and make yourself comfortable?"

"I have no intention of staying."

"Too bad," She chirped at him. She thought if she stood there one minute more, under his gaze, she was going to lose it completely, so turned her back on him and sashayed across the landing and down the steps to the living room again. "I was looking forward to having a nice family evening."

Stefan looked at her darkly as he entered. At the risk of stating the obvious -- he was not in the mood for this. He'd returned home prepared for battle. In light of both Caroline's reaction to their discussion this morning and Barbara's bombshell of this afternoon, he felt somewhat confident in what to expect next. A silent house and a summons to the guest cottage were not what he'd had in mind. Apparently his daughter-in-law had decided to start playing games. This was not something he cared to indulge.

"Do you want to explain the meaning of this?" he asked, as he pulled the door shut behind him

"It's dinner," she gave him a coy smile over her shoulder. "I thought it was self-explanatory." She spun around, still smiling at him in that maddening and slightly mad way she had been since she'd flung open the door. "So?" she prodded. "Aren't you going to tell me what you think of the place?"

Stefan kept his eyes on her as he descended the stairs. He was loathed to do anything she suggested. He was feeling, at the moment, quite revolted with the whole situation. It was undeniable that this morning's exercise had not unfolded as he had wished -- though, frankly, he had not yet found the answer to the question of Caroline. If he'd been wanted anything from today, it was to at least remove himself from the corner circumstance had forced him into. And if he knew anything as he entered the house that night, it was just how firmly wedged in he still was.

Curiosity, finally, won out over irritation, and Stefan let his eyes dart away from Carly towards the living room. That morning it had looked distressingly plain and American -- this evening it had taken on a decidedly more classic look. The point of this exercise escaped him, and he turned to look towards the dinning room.

The dinning room table was where it had been on earlier visits -- under the low-hanging wrought iron chandelier. However, the table was now covered in a Russian lace table cloth. Elaborate silver candle sticks sat at either end. There was a vase of fresh cut climbing roses in the center. The samovar he'd had given them was in a place of honor in the center of the sideboard.

"Like it?" her voice was drifted to him as he stared at the family heirloom. "I got inspired."

There was a not-so-subtle edge on her last word -- a twist that reminded him, momentarily, of Barbara. He shook his head. "If you are setting in motion some elaborate drama --"

"Hey," she spun back to him, arms out. "I didn't set anything in motion. That was you. This is just the consequence."

Stefan turned to face her. The anger in her was showing itself -- face flushed, a vibrating energy running just under her skin. "And what is that, Caroline? What is it you think you're doing?"

"Staking my claim," hands moved to her hips. Such a determined display of uncertain strength. "Starting here. This house? Is mine."

"Surprisingly, it's started to look rather similar to mine."

"AND --" she caught herself, looking quickly towards the kitchen, before continuing at a lower pitch. "I"m not going anywhere. No matter how much money you throw at me. But you probably figured that part out this morning."

He just stared at her. Appraisingly. Waiting her out. She stared back, folding her arms and cocking one hip like a petulant American Teenager. Though really, that wasn't far from what she was.

"For the moment," he allowed, finally. Her eyes narrowed.

"What's the supposed to mean?"

He turned away, walking back towards the table. "At the moment it doesn't suit your needs to cooperate with me. I was attempting to appeal to your better nature -- but I see that was a waste of time."

He touched his fingers to the lace of the table cloth -- he was unfamiliar with it. A wedding gift, no doubt. He glanced up and saw his daughter-in-law's reflection in the glass of the buffet. She was nearly levitating with rage. Hands clenched into fists.

"You can't pay me to leave Nikolas. He's more important to me than money."

"Then why, pray tell," he turned then, looking back at her, his contempt peaking out from under his casual demeanor. "Did you decline to sign the post-nuptial agreement?"

"I signed it."

"With an alias."

"An alias?" She smacked her forehead in feigned shock. "Damn. You know, I use so many names, it's hard for me to keep them all straight. Hey -- Now that you mention it, I'm not sure what I signed on my wedding papers. I think it started with a C..."

"Caroline --"

She snapped her fingers. "That's the one! Caroline Benson. I think that might be Latin for 'your worst nightmare'."

"Am I supposed to find this amusing."

"Yeah," she sneered at him -- a look of such anger and loathing it actually took him aback, momentarily. "Hysterical. Just like I found your little joke this morning. I've been thinking, actually -- maybe I should let Nikolas in on this one. I'm sure he'd get a real kick out of it."

"Ah," Stefan's mouth tightened. "And now we get to the heart of the matter. The reason you've called me over here tonight."

She stared at him a moment, then she smiled. Knowingly. "You're standing there like you're not scared."

"Is that what you're looking for? Fear?"

"Nope," she exhaled. "But turnabout's fair play, Stefan," she nearly purred his name in a way that he found thoroughly repulsive. "That first time you came to me -- on the boat. You used Michael to appeal to my 'better nature' -- you said I knew what it was like to have a son," she laughed, bitterly. "Well -- guess what? I also know what it's like to lose a son. It's a pain you don't even want to imagine. -- But in my case he was taken away from me. In your case..." she spit out her words. "He'll walk away. Of his own free will. Because you disgust him."

The words washed over him, bile-soaked and vicious. He held on to his anger tightly. It was the only thing that would get him through.

"You can not presume to know the intricacies of my relationship with --"

"I know you're scared," she cut him off. "You can lock it up tight in the pit of your stomach and you can throw around your pretty words and roll your nasty little questions off the tip of you tongue -- But we're both parents, buddy. And you're scared of losing him. And you know what? You should be."

Now it was his turn to sneer. "And now we arrive at the threats."

"No," she shook her head. "No threats. Just facts." She held out a hand to him, index finger extended. "One -- I have the power to totally annihilate your relationship with Nikolas. If I tell him what you did, that's it. We're gone -- we're off this island and we're miles away from you." she raised her brow at him, with infuriating condescension. "You can't tell me that's what you want. Not after you went to all that trouble to make sure that I thought moving here was a good idea in the first place."

"You seem sure of your power over him," his voice was tight and barely controlled. For a minute, he saw her confidence waver.

"You ever listen to any Percy Sledge?" she asked with a wry smile. "He says it all -- Nikolas loves me. And when a man loves a woman, she can do no wrong. You think one day he might snap out of it -- but that day isn't here yet and until it is, I'm calling the shots."

"And you?" he asked, his voice now soft and dangerous. "You believe that day will come as well."

Direct hit. She did not hide her weaknesses well -- but then, what else should he expect?

"Shut up," she hissed back at him, taking a step away as if he'd just tossed an asp at her feet. "You don't know anything about us. You've never bothered to find out!"

"It's happened before," he pressed. "Men have promised to take care of you, and then turned their backs. They have said they would protect you and they did not."

There was a long silence and then a slow, nasty smile appeared on her lips. "Nikolas is different." The smile widened into a near-grin. Gaping and awful. "He's kind and he's understanding and he's STUBBORN. Even if he started to change his mind, you'd have a hell of a time getting him to admit it."

"if that is the limb you want to hang your hopes on --"

"And right now --" she pressed on like he had not spoken. "No matter how much control you want to pretend you have over him -- He's sleeping next to me every night. He's confiding in me. He's telling me about his life -- and about you -- and you're not getting the same kind of information. That's what's driving you nuts, right? That he's actually growing up and living his own life." She did something then that set Stefan on edge. Stepped up close to him, face tipped up to his so that their eyes met. It was a challenge and he did not back away from such things. And for that reason he was stuck, looking straight into her as she spoke. "He's got a life. And it's me. And you can't stand that."

"You will hurt him."

The corners of her mouth twitched. "Yeah. Probably."

His hands came up of their own volition and took her upper arms. Held them a moment in a grip threatening only in what was being held back. Then he stepped away, extricating himself from the stand off -- preventing her from following him.

"When that happens, there will be no place for you to hide."

She let out her breath, staring down at the floor. After a moment, she pushed her hair back and looked up at him. "Well -- until then?" her voice cracked on the last word. "Your hands are officially tied. Because if you do one more thing to get up in the middle of my marriage -- if you try even one tiny little trick to undo this -- then I will tell Nikolas what you did. And we'll be gone where you can't even keep an eye on him."

He turned back to her, playing on the only thing he really had this point -- her doubt. "You're sure of this. That this -- something that is hardly abnormal behavior for me -- will be enough to push Nikolas away?"

"I don't have to be sure," she shrugged. "You're the one that has to make the decision. Keep up your one-man crusade to ruin your son's marriage... Or shut up, put up and stay for dinner."

He stared at her a long moment, stroking his goatee before speaking. "I will not be manipulated, Caroline."

"It's Carly," she snapped back at him. "And you just were."

"Quail?"

"I take it you hadn't heard about this?"

"Not strictly speaking," Nikolas admitted as he crossed the lawn in front of the house with his aunt. "But I guess it makes the trip out here worth the effort."

Alexis smiled wryly. "I can make a discreet exit if I'm going to be disrupting your plans for the evening."

"I had no plans," he said with a voice devoid of any inflection.

"Uh huh," she stopped and turned to face her nephew, looking at him appraisingly. "You know -- there was something you didn't tell me on the launch."

He looked at her warily. "What's that?"

"How you think Carly's going to take the news about the review."

Right. The review. The reason he'd been glad for the chance run-in with Alexis at the docks. Cece had kept him so busy all day at work, he hadn't been able to do much more than play phone tag with her office. He'd anticipated her taking the news about the social work agency in stride -- and she had -- but he wasn't sure Carly was going to see it the same way. And after all her talk about bombs waiting to detonate when they got home, his instincts told him this might be the kind of thing she might react over.

"That remains to be seen," he said, looking grimly at the house.

"You don't sound thrilled about it."

"I hate bringing the real world home with me," he glanced back at her, smiling slightly. "Though I guess you had me beat with that."

"Hey," Alexis gestured with her briefcase. "It's my job to bear bad news and paperwork. If you want --" she winced slightly. "You could tell her over dinner. After she's signed everything I have for her -- I'll do my best to make it seem non-threatening."

"It is non-threatening," Nikolas muttered, half to himself. "But I wish it had been our move and not theirs."

"I do relate."

"And I wish it hadn't been the first thing on my desk this morning," he shook his head. "If I tell them you're my lawyer and to send everything to both of us, would that tip our hand?"

Alexis shrugged. "I doubt it would be much of a surprise. And you're right when you say they can't make a move until we do."

"They could do this."

"Yes," she nodded. "And it's all they could do. Because was have this utterly under control -- because we were going to do this anyway. Nikolas --" she reached out, resting her hand on his arm, lightly. "This is the last surprise you'll have to worry about for awhile. I promise."

He smiled slightly. "Aside from the quail."

She laughed, and they started back across the lawn. "I hope it's the recipe she makes with the mango relish. I'm in the mood for fruit tonight."

"It won't be mango until August," Nikolas argued as they started up the steps.

"It's too late for Juniper berry."

"Saffron," he pulled open the screen door for her. "I'd bet my life."

Alexis was starting to argue back when she stopped dead just inside the door. "Oh."

Not 'oh'. Please no 'oh'. It had been too long a day for 'oh'.

He took a deep breath and looked up to see what Alexis was reacting to.

"Oh."

The house had changed -- that was the first thing he absorbed. It was warmer. Brighter. Smelled like dinner, and... It had his father standing in it. More to the point, his father was standing in the middle of the room, looking as closed and intense as Nikolas had ever seen him. And a few feet away, was his wife. Looking. . .

Stunning. Mostly. There were probably other appropriate adjectives, but at the moment, they were lost to him.

That wasn't helpful.

He forced himself to tear his eyes away from her, and tried to gather his wits. Because if he did that, then this would probably start to make sense. He stole a quick glance at his watch as he moved into the house.

It was five. The appointed time. He shook his head.

"Hi..." he said, for lack of anything more intelligent. His eyes traveled back to his wife, and he caught the tail end of an anxious expression before she suddenly broke into a wide grin and started towards him.

"Hey," she beamed as she met him at the stairs. She reached up immediately, her hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down for a very quick kiss, while she relieved him of the case he was carrying. "Welcome home."

"I ran into Alexis on the launch," he explained as she withdrew from him. "She told me she'd been invited for dinner."

Carly threw her hands up in the air. "Surprise!"

"Yeah," his eyes moved away from her, towards the living room. "Isn't the table..." he stopped. The living room was different. Check that -- the living room was entirely changed. That wasn't the same couch as the night before and... There had been boxes. Crates. Garbage. Now there was clean space. And --

"Master Nikolas!"

Mrs. Landsbury.

Carly had taken his hand and was pulling him down the steps into the house. He managed to return her greeting, and then she was off -- attending to Alexis, asking about before dinner drinks. Doing what she did.

Only doing it here.

Carly watched Nikolas carefully as Mrs. Landsbury did what she did best -- she was no less the whirlwind of proficiency around the Cassadines, at least -- and attended to everyone's immediate need. Nikolas looked a little like he'd been hit upside the head with a post.

She felt a little like she'd been hit in the stomach with something similar.

It wasn't like she hadn't known this moment was coming. It was just that... well, she'd allowed herself to ignore it. Bigger things afoot and all that. And that was ironic, really, because this was pretty much all about Nikolas.

It was just so much easier to pull it off when he wasn't in the room.

Speaking of which, he was now staring at the dinning room in confusion. "How long was I gone?"

Carly let out a laugh that was just a little bit too shrill. "I had a productive day."

He nodded, slowly, then finally -- finally -- looked back at her. "You don't do productive halfway."

She smiled and managed not to look in her father-in-law's direction. "I don't do anything halfway." Something flickered through his eyes at that comment, so she turned away, quickly. Right. Things to do. "Speaking of which -- Alexis said she had some papers for me to sign."

Alexis was looking at her brother, with pointed curiosity, and took a moment before turning to face Carly. "Oh -- they're nothing much. Banking papers, name changes, things like that."

"Name..." she felt a little lightheaded. Kept her eyes determinedly on Alexis as her point of focus.

"Well -- if you're changing your name to Cassadine, then we want to have everything sent off to all the interested parties as soon as possible."

She nodded, slowly, then felt herself flush at the realization of what was being said to her. Wait -- banking? Name changes? Oh -- Those kinds of papers. Good papers. Papers that might make Stefan Cassadine's head explode. "Yeah, I want to do that. The sooner the better, right?"

Alexis was already opening her brief case and pulling out a dangerously thick file. "It's pretty standard, you can do them now, if you'd like."

"Now," she took in a steadying breath. "Would be good."

"Actually," Nikolas stepped forward and slipped an arm around Carly's waist. "Can I talk to you for a minute first?"

Carly felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise. And why do you want to do that? She opened her mouth to try to protest, when she caught the look on her father-in-laws face. If looks could kill, she'd be six feet under. She needed a drink. Barring that? Being out of the room for ten seconds might help. She turned and shot Nikolas an anything-for-you smile. "Right with you."

He shot a completely benign and unconvincing look in Alexis's direction as he took her hand. "We'll be right back."

The nearest -- and frankly, only -- private space afforded them was the study. Which was where everything that Carly couldn't find a home for had been stashed. Luckily, the items in question were organized enough that they didn't leap out and crush them the second the door was opened, and Nikolas quickly pulled her inside, closing the door behind them.

As the door clicked shut, something in Carly's head just snapped. Game off -- she turned on the spot, hands pressing flat against his chest and pushing him back against the door. She fell against him and she pulled herself up his body until her lips found his. His arms wrapped around her, bringing her even closer and for the first time in hours she actually felt safe. Protected. Like she was something else besides the scourge of the earth, plotting to destroy everything good, and sweet and pure. Instead she buried herself in the warmth of him. The strength, the touch, the taste of him. Reassuring herself -- She was still here. He was still hers. Take that, Lord of the Dense.

The kiss was hard, hot and deep. When she finally pulled back, Nikolas was looking at her with a mixture of bewilderment and desire. She touched his parted lips with her fingertip and found herself swelling with relief when he nipped playfully at them. Tried hard not to cry.

"I missed you." she whispered to him.

He nodded slowly before saying. "Good."

She wanted to kiss him again. Instead she just smiled at him, played absently with the button on his shirt. "How was your day?"

"Funny -- I was about to ask you the same thing."

Where to even start? "I told you how it was."

"You said it was productive," he glanced over her shoulder at the chaos that lay beyond the door. "I think this is cheating."

Carly turned and took in the room. Ok, yeah. "I had time constraints."

"Yeah. Why is that?"

She felt her face heat and stared determinedly at the top button on his shirt. "What do you mean?"

She felt his hand under her chin, urging her to look up. Tried to ignore it, then finally let out her breath and dropped her head back.

"What?"

"Are you going to tell me what happened?"

She stared up at him. His eyes were dark, and soft. Misleading, because the way he was examining her expression was pervasive. It was one of those strange talents he had -- make you feel completely secure while giving you the third degree. Maybe it ran in the family. She let out her breath in a long sigh. "Why do you think something happened?"

He laughed slightly -- and it wasn't bitter or suspicious. It might have even been amused. "Ok," he slipped his hand into her hair, keeping her eyes on him. "Looking at this from my point of view for a second... You said you wanted me home at five o'clock. Sharp. And I get here... Dinner is cooking. The house looks amazing. You..." he took a breath while allowing his eyes to travel down the length of her body, "Look amazing..." he raised his eyes to hers again and she felt a jolt of electricity pass through her. "And... My father is here. Presumably on purpose. You see where it gets a little confusing."

"I wanted to show off."

He grimaced, as he let his hand wander from her neck, down to her waist. "We couldn't have shown off after the rest of the gifts were opened."

"This is what happens when you leave me alone all day without a project."

"Family dinners happen." He smiled when he said it. God, he had a really good smile...

"All kinds of things happen," she murmured, reached for him again -- cupping his face in her hands and kissing him -- slowly this time. Savoring it. His hands tightened on her waist and he drew her into him, as he came off the door. It was the kind of kiss designed to go somewhere else. Somewhere that didn't involve relatives, legal papers and quail. But she had a plan. And a big part of that plan involved getting through tonight without looking like a complete slut. At the moment, she was doubting her ability to rise to the challenge. She let out a small moan as she pulled herself away from him, and immediately buried her face in his shirt. Deep breaths, Caroline. You can do this. She could hear the speed with which his heart was beating. The room definitely seemed to be short on oxygen.

"Ok," he pulled in his breath. "Yeah. I'm still confused."

"I know," she forced herself to take a big step back from him. "I can inspire that." She bit her lip. "But it all makes sense if you're me."

"Can't share any of that, huh?"

She felt tears threaten. Out of freaking NOWHERE. She pushed them aside. She had to -- push everything aside while she was at it. Survival of the fittest. And God, if she knew anything right now, it was that she would fight for this. To the death, if necessary.

"Just trying to be a good wife," she chirped unconvincingly.

"You're already a great wife," he reached out to bring her back to him, pulling her against his chest, arms around her. "You're the best wife I've ever had."

She let out a choking laugh, glad that he couldn't see her face because -- really -- it was getting really hard to keep this act up in any capacity. "You're insane," she spoke into his shirt.

"You keep saying that."

"You keep giving me a reason to."

He pulled back, looking down at her suspiciously. "Hey. Exhibit one for the defense -- this room."

"Will look great in, like, three days." She put up a hand. "I promise."

"Which begs my original question -- why are we doing this now?"

"Element of surprise?" He stared down at her. Again. Doing that mind-reading thing, like if he just looked hard enough, he'd sense the real answer. She raised her brow. "Why? Don't you like it?"

Dirty tactics. Unfair. Foul. But effective. His expression softened and he smiled again. Brought his hand up to cup her cheek.

"Yeah, I like it."

"Then it's all good."

Or, you know. Somewhere in the vicinity of not bad.

He didn't look particularly convinced, though. But he leaned down and kissed her -- softly, with promise -- before nuzzling her neck and murmuring in her ear. "There's something we need to talk about."

She went rigid in his arms. Because really -- she was out of energy for new stuff. Nevertheless... she managed to choke out a "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Am I going to hate it?"

He sighed as he straightened up. Looked into her eyes pensively for a long moment before saying "I don't know if you'll want to talk about it with my father here."

She blinked. "Why not?"

"It's about Michael."

Her hand immediately grabbed his shirt pulling it into her fist. "What about Michael?"

"It's nothing bad."

"But it's nothing good, right?" her eyes searched his. Not without a twinge of irony.

"It's nothing bad," he stressed. "I promise. And Alexis probably has opinions about it -- but if you don't want to talk about it until my father is gone --"

"Seriously," Carly's voice had rose into the neighborhood of hysteria. "If you don't tell me what it is right now? I'm drawing blood."

"Ok," he was pulling her hand free of his shirt. "It's about the review."

Her mind went blank. Like it had suffered from a sudden energy surge and now didn't know what to do with itself. She shook herself, and came back into the moment.

"The custody review."

"Yeah."

"What about it?"

His hands were holding hers. She wasn't sure how that had happened. "The agency called the review. They want to set a date some time in the next couple of weeks."

"Couple of WEEKS?"

"It's fine," he assured again. "I promise. We're prepared for this."

"No we're not!"

"We will be," he stressed. His voice was so different from hers. Even and determined. She shook her head. The pieces were moving too slow and she needed to work out what this meant NOW. How it fit with everything else that happened today.

"Was it the Quartermaines?" she pressed. "Did they do something?"

Nikolas looked grim. There was more to this, she could feel it.

"We don't know -- the review was overdue. You should have had it months ago."

"So -- what? They suddenly put it together and they're going to do it NOW?"

"Think of it this way -- if they'd done it four months ago like they were supposed to -- would you feel more nervous or less?"

She looked at him, incredulous. Was he kidding? Four months ago... Hell, four months ago she would barely have cared. Four months ago she didn't have a reason to hope.

Damnit.

"What does Alexis say?"

"She hasn't said much. But we can discuss it some more, find out what we want to do to prepare," he took a breath and punched a point he'd already made a few times. "If you don't mind talking about it in front of my father --"

"Well, your father knows everything, right?" she was staring into nothing now. Eyes unfocused, everything below her neck numb. She snapped to. "I mean -- he's family." how she managed to keep the bitter edge out of her voice, she had no idea. "Right?"

Nikolas didn't answer that.

"It's up to you. What we do."

She nodded slightly. Ok. Ok -- she could handle this. She wasn't sure how, but hey -- what was one more rabbit pulled out of the hat at this point.

"Follow my lead?" she asked, looking up at him hopefully.

"Whatever you want."

She smiled, feeling a rush of gratitude. Stood up on her toes to kiss him again. So no one in this town thought she deserved him -- they were probably right. But hey -- he was with her right now. And she'd be an absolute idiot to let that change.

"Ok," she sighed. "Then lets get out of here before they think we're up to something."

Nikolas made a face. "I was afraid you'd say that."

She gave him another quick kiss. "It'll be fine."

"Oh, I know," he was smirking at her. "It's quail. How bad could it be?"

"Oh, God," she sighed, taking his hand and pulling him away from the door so that she could open it. "Don't tell me you don't like quail, either."

"I like quail just --" he stopped behind her and she turned back to him. He was looking at the bookshelf on the far side of the door, with an expression she couldn't name. It had been large leather bound books written in Russian. They were now piled into boxes in the far corner to make room for everything she'd put up on the shelf. She shifted her weight uncomfortably.

"What?"

He shook his head. "You unpacked your stuff."

She stood still a moment. Watched his eyes. For a second there, she thought she saw something that was dangerously close to satisfaction.

"Yeah," she smiled and tugged on his hand. "I thought it was time."