Chapter Seventy-Four:
Family Portrait

Carly sat on the far end of the couch, pressed securely into the arm rest. She had her legs gathered to her chest, and her chin was resting on her knee. Eyes were staring into the middle distance, while she listened. And listened and listened and listened. It wasn't so much an agreement to join forces as it was passive resistance. She was tired. She was achy. She had plans to stop from falling apart. What she didn't have was a lot of time to get really introspective about the fall of the Russian Throne.

Ok. So the part about the weather machine was sort of interesting. In a really absurd easy-to-dismiss sort of way. But the rest of it was like history class without anyone to pass notes to. When Alexis wrapped up with the legal ramifications of trying to freeze the world, Carly was sitting with her head back, staring blankly at the far ceiling and thanking God she wasn't going to get into the whole kidnapping thing. She didn't have the energy to get into that much Spencerocity this morning.

"What's the point of telling me all that?" She finally asked, when Alexis had been silent a deferential amount of time.

"It's history."

"Yeah," she lifted her head, stretching out her shoulders. "Nikolas has clued me in on some stuff, you know."

Alexis occupied herself by staring into her water glass. "A lot of attention is being paid to your history, Carly. I think it's important that some is paid to Nikolas's, as well."

"And I'm not doing that."

"Not if you're dropping major bombshells on him at dinner parties, you're not."

Once upon a time, in a far away land, guilt had been an emotion Carly had been able to beat down with impressive speed. About five seconds after she'd let Nikolas into her life, he'd found some way to release the safety on that particularly valuable coping mechanism. So while she sat there aware that the best idea in a situation like this was to get mad -- she just felt her stomach roll over on her and hoped she wasn't turning too pale.

"Listen..." she started, tersely.

Alexis shook her head. "You can't hand me a reason for it, Carly. I know what they are, and they're probably all about Stefan. It doesn't matter. You can't do that again."

Carly hunched her shoulders, defensively. "That's your decree."

"Look," Alexis sighed, turning towards her. "I know this is unfair and manipulative and very possibly cruel. But I'm your lawyer. And I'm a damn good one. If we're going to work together -- successfully -- then certain things can't happen." She raised her glass towards Carly, in a sort of offhand salute. "I know you come by the flare for the dramatic naturally --"

"You people really have to lay off my family."

"Fair enough." The line of Alexis's mouth hardened. Went from dutiful advocate to severe disciplinarian. "I've read the court transcripts, Carly."

Warning bells clanged inside Carly's head and she pushed herself up off the couch, walked towards the opposite wall -- towards nothing. Just working at creating distance from those words. "Ok," she said, hoarsely. "Enough."

Alexis was on her feet, too. "I know ever single antic you pulled in that court room. I know about every outburst, every warning the judge gave you -- I know exactly how hard you worked to sabotage your own case --"

"Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!" She was shrieking now. Spun around, pointing an accusing finger at the woman. "You don't know one single thing about it! I did NOT lose that case on purpose. You can't even --"

"I NEVER SAID," Alexis raised her voice, overlapping Carly just as she started to get a head of steam. "You did it on purpose! But you sure as hell didn't help yourself."

"I'm not going to sit here for another session of Everything is Carly's Fault! I did what I could, ok? No one else was doing a DAMN thing -- That judge, he hated me from the minute I walked into that courtroom! AJ had three lawyers and I had Mr. Deeds Goes to Law School --" Her voice cracked. "I was fighting for my SON. What the hell was I supposed to do? Give up?"

Alexis shrugged with infuriating indifference. "Get a better lawyer."

"Oh! Wow," Carly smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"This would qualify as surrendering to your theatrics, Carly," Alexis pointed out, and Carly considered vaulting the coffee table and just throttling her. The woman might have sensed that, because she put her hands up in a gesture of surrender. "And that's fine. Better you get it out here, because I'm not going to use any of this against you," the hands dropped to her hips. "But you cannot do this in a court room. You cannot do this in front of a judge, or opposing council, or -- very probably -- anyone who knows the Quartermaines. You can scream and cry and smash whatever you want within these four walls... But let go of the Sarah Bernhard in public. It isn't going to help you." Alexis was breathless at the end of her last sentence and it betrayed at least some degree of emotion. She pulled a lung full of air with alarming speed before launching her next speech. "What I was trying to say to you before this little digression was this: Cassadines hate being caught off guard. And yes, what you did last night provided you with a nice little sound byte of my brother's temper. You can provoke him, congratulations. But I don't recommend trying it again. Because what hurts him, inevitably hurts Nikolas along the way."

Carly had her arms crossed protectively over her chest. Rage was once again being smothered under a blanket of guilt. She really wished Alexis would stop invoking Nikolas's name.

"You think if I'd done what Stefan wanted that wouldn't have hurt him?" she muttered into the floor.

"So you admit he asked you for something."

Carly shuddered involuntarily. "It doesn't matter," she tried to make the words convincingly blase and failed miserably. "All's fair in love and parenthood."

"Why didn't you take the money, Carly?"

"I never said there was any money."

"Let's pretend there was," Alexis murmured. "Pretend that there's five million dollars in my briefcase right now. Why aren't you going to take it?"

Carly kept her eyes fixed determinedly on the floor. To hell with that. She wasn't going to pour her heart out to this woman. She barely knew her. And what the hell was she supposed to say? She'd spent all morning curled up in the embrace of a man who was furious at her. Who'd been so mad the night before, he hadn't come home! But he'd still kissed her good-bye. Hugged her on the landing even though he was having a hard time looking her straight in the eye. She'd felt sick after he left. She still felt sick. But she didn't feel capable of walking away.

"He bought me a horse," she blurted out, finally. Nearly without her own permission.

"I heard."

"No. He bought me a horse that used to belong to my best friend when I was a kid. He bought me a thirteen year old horse that I hadn't seen in a decade. And not because I asked him to. Not because I had dropped a hint or even considered it or anything. He just did it." She finally looked up at the woman. Meeting her eyes. "The first time he met my son, he taught him how to skip rocks. The last time we were there, he did a handstand for him. He --" She choked, unprepared for the sudden welling up of tears. Shook her head and pushed on anyway. "He gives me so much stuff that I don't even ask for and the only thing he wants back is for me to be here. So fuck whatever is in your briefcase. It won't be enough."

A long silence followed and Carly took the opportunity to turn her eyes back to the floor. She sniffed a few times, but otherwise didn't acknowledge the tears streaming down her face. When Alexis spoke, her voice was surprisingly tender.

"I can work with that answer." She drew in another breath and Carly looked up at her in curiosity. The woman looked a little shaken -- more emotional, more human than she had before. She gave a weak smile at the look of confusion on Carly's face. "In light of that -- I think it's time we got down to practical business."

"I was wondering how long it'd take you to show."

Lucky Spencer tossed a second garbage bag into the back dumpster without looking. There was a satisfying thud as it landed and then silence. Silence in which his brother, leaning against his car a few yards away and studying the pavement, didn't bother to answer in. Or acknowledge his presence, for that matter. Lucky heaved a dramatic sigh, and strolled down the alleyway towards him.

"Slumming again?" he drawled as he approached. "Or just contemplating burning the place down to the ground?"

"Little bit of both."

"Yeah?" Lucky glanced over his shoulder at the building behind. "Gotta say -- Some days, I'd light the match for you." He turned back and took advantage of his brother's complete lack of response to try to guess what he was dealing with here. Unfortunately, the only real clue Nikolas was giving him was the silence and shoe gazing. Vague, but familiar. He'd seen a lot of it in the last few weeks. He wasn't enjoying it much. "C'mon," he said, finally. "You look like you could use a drink."

Nikolas looked up at Lucky with barely masked irritation. "You want me to come inside."

"Yeah," Lucky threw back. "Cause hanging out in the parking lot always works out so well for you."

The look he got in response wasn't friendly. "I'm so glad you brought that up."

"Yeah," Lucky crossed his arms. "No one's been shot here since... Well. You. What are you really here to talk about?"

"Talked to your father lately?"

"Totally up to speed."

Nikolas gave him a look that brushed up a little too closely with patronizing. "So what do you think I'm here to talk about?"

Lucky held his gaze a long moment, jaw clenched. You know, no matter what his position on this whole marriage thing... Nikolas had been a lot easier to deal with pre-wedding. Dead inside, maybe. But not nearly as cranky.

"I have checks to sign. Just come to the bar, it'll take ten minutes."

"Your father around?"

"Not so far."

After a moment, Nikolas nodded his acquiescence and pushed himself off the car. The club wasn't much on the occupied side. Lunch didn't draw the crowds, and it was early in the week. Lucky rounded the bar and dragged a lock box out from under the cash register. He occupied himself with opening it while Nikolas took a spot across from him at the bar. The fact that he didn't actually sit down wasn't lost on Lucky.

"You sure you don't want something to drink?" he asked mildly.

"I'm driving."

"Your call," he shrugged. He pulled out the stack of paychecks and hit the bar with the end of his pen once for emphasis. "So. Carly."

"Yeah."

"I take it you're displeased."

Nikolas didn't say anything. Just stared blankly at the bar while Lucky went sorting the checks.

"You gotta give me something to go on here," he said pointedly, as he started to sign. "All I know is, I'm supposed to add Carly to the schedule. I don't know why."

"My father tried to buy her off."

Lucky half nodded and didn't look up. "Charming."

"Expected."

"That, too," he glanced up. "So this is what? Payback? Man. She must be pissed at Vlad."

"Why do you say that?" Nikolas asked, heavily.

"She and my Dad? Not a good time."

Nikolas nodded, listlessly. "She gave me some reasons. I don't think she's going to change her mind."

"Maybe once she cools down."

"No."

He always did leave a lot of room for negotiation. "Did she tell you her conditions?" Nikolas stared into space for a long moment, then turned and looked at him in confusion.

"Conditions?"

"Dad gave me a list. She made him write them down," he smiled slightly. Something about that had amused him. Frankly, given him a little more faith in the girl. He dug around in the pile of papers stacked on top of the scheduling clipboard. "Ok. Here it is. Conditions of Employment. Number one -- he's not allowed to talk about you."

"Hope he doesn't sprain something."

"Number two -- No weekends. Number three -- No questions."

Nikolas frowned. "No questions?"

"About you. About her life. About anything."

"I like that one," he admitted.

"Membership has it's privileges," Lucky scanned the list. "She doesn't want to work when you'd be home. She doesn't want to work full time. She doesn't want to talk about Bobbie --"

"Wait," Nikolas put up a hand, signaling for him to stop. "What does Luke get out of this?"

"Gets to keep a hand in, I guess." The color of Nikolas's face changed. "Ok," Lucky put hand hands flat on the counter. "That's the part that's giving you trouble."

Nikolas laughed hollowly. "Can't get past it." He looked like he wanted to say more, but after a significant silence, nothing else had come out.

"So what are you going to do about it?" Lucky asked mildly.

Nikolas exhaled, digging his thumb into his temple like he was dealing with an intense headache. "The only way I can see this working..." He spoke slowly, methodically. "The only thing I can come up with is if she can somehow work here and never see him."

Lucky nodded slightly, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. "It's been done."

Nikolas cast weary eyes in his direction. "Lucky."

"No -- Seriously. Do you know what my Dad does here?" Nikolas shot Lucky a look that suggested there was no way to express the total lack of thought he dedicated to any aspect of Luke Spencer. Lucky grinned. "Neither do I. No one does. Claude and I are running the place. He books acts when he's in town and feels like it. The rest of the time..." He gestured at the sparsely populated room. "We just do what we can."

Nikolas was already shaking his head. "But if she'd be here --"

"I could put her on shifts I work --"

"No," he slammed his hand down onto the bar and the tone of his voice was enough to distract the only couple sitting nearby. "He'll be there. I know him, he loves this. It's sport."

"I'll handle it," Lucky said, firmly.

"Uh huh."

"Hey. How many times have you seen him since this started?"

There was a long silence before Nikolas admitted, "Twice."

"You think I don't have something to do with that."

"He broke into my house!"

"And he won't do it again," Lucky was getting irritated. "I have your back on this."

Nikolas shot Lucky a dubious look. "Do you set the schedule?"

"Yep."

"So you're saying you'd set it so that he wasn't here."

"Can't guarantee that -- but I can guarantee I'll be here to make sure he backs the hell off."

"Why?" His tone bordered on accusing.

"Because," Lucky grit his teeth. "That's what I said I'd do." Nikolas just stared at him. He looked dark and frustrated and pissed off at the world at large. "C'mon, man," he exhaled. "Haven't let you down yet, have I?"

Nikolas dropped his head into his hand, staring murderously at the bar top. When he looked up again, there was a flash of what lay beneath. For a second -- and just a second -- he looked wrecked. Raw and hurt. But it faded into something less tangible. Lucky felt a little queasy.

"Look," he started and Nikolas cut him off.

"Is it supposed to be this hard?" It was an honest question. He looked like he was under the weight of incredible fatigue, more than anything else. Lucky diverted his eyes, diving back into the distraction of check-signing.

"I don't know," he mumbled to the counter top.

"But it wasn't for you."

Lucky choked on a laugh. "Oh, it was all kinds of hard for me, believe me." Forget it. There was no staying out of this one. He threw down his pen and looked up again. "Sometimes you just have to hang in until things right themselves. I guess that's the thing about me and Elizabeth. I knew they would."

"Whether I hang in or not isn't at issue," the edge was creeping back into his brother's voice.

"Didn't figure it was."

He shook his head, impatiently. "It's like there are two people inside her. And one of them is the most incredible person I've ever met in my life. And the other one is actively trying to destroy her."

"Which one are you hung up on?"

"Both," Nikolas snapped immediately. He let out an uncharacteristic groan and pushed himself away from the bar, supporting himself on two braced arms. "She drives me crazy." He exhaled, then glanced up at his brother, smirking slightly. "I can't believe I just said that to you."

Lucky found himself returning the gesture. A moment of understanding -- rare and subtle -- passed between them. Then Lucky picked up his pen.

"I can find a way to make this work. If you think you can."

Nikolas sighed. "I have to."

"Then it's done."

They continued to hold each other's gaze, a silent sealing of a contract, until the door to the club swung open,

"Lucky!" Lucky swore under his breath and turned his head just in time to see his father stop short, just behind Nikolas. "Damnit. I knew I forgot to do something. Every spring, you Cassadines crawl out of the woodwork. Every year, I forget to spray."

Nikolas didn't bother to turn around. "Good to see you, Luke."

"What is it we can do for you?"

Lucky sighed and dropped his head. Somewhere, off in the distance, he was sure he heard the sound of saloon doors swinging.

"I'm finished," Nikolas said, straightening up. "I've decided to allow Carly to work here."

"Allow?" Luke chuckled, deep in his throat. "Wow, you're stepping right out of the dark ages, aren't you?"

"Huh," Nikolas finally turned around. "I wasn't aware you were such a big supporter of women's rights."

Luke raised his brow. "Door's that-a-way."

"So it is."

"Dad," Lucky warned. Luke put up both his hands and took a step back.

"On my way. On my way. Wouldn't want to step on any toes in my own club."

"Hey." Lucky reached out and grabbed Nikolas's sleeve as he started to make his own departure. He waited until Nikolas turned back to ask, "What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Invading Poland," Nikolas said, darkly. "Why?"

Lucky glanced over his shoulder, ensuring that his father had moved on. Didn't feel like dealing with the drama.

"Keep your afternoon open," he said, turning back. "I got someone who needs to see you."

"These are the challenges..."

Alexis was standing in the middle of the living room, folder in one hand, glasses perched on the end of her nose. Carly leaned against the wood post that separated the panes of her, her hands pushed deep into the pockets of her jeans because she didn't trust herself to move right now. She just kept her eyes down, and her body rigid while she chanted one word over and over in her head. Michael.

"I'll start with my family," the lawyer was continuing. "How's that?"

Carly glanced up. "Your family?"

"The Quartermaines have a team of lawyers who are trying to open up any crack and stuff an argument into it," She let the file drop onto the coffee table. "They're going to have a lot of stuff to say about Cassadines."

"Nikolas said it wouldn't matter."

"It won't," Alexis agreed, firmly. "But let's go over it anyway."

Carly turned her eyes to the floor again. Michael. Michael. Michael. "Go ahead."

"First of all -- as I mentioned earlier -- we have a colorful history."

"Right. And the Quartermaines are normal."

"You're getting ahead of me," Alexis commented, wryly. "Sticking just to Cassadines for the moment -- We do have eccentric tendencies. We are isolated. We have tried to take over the world."

Carly made some nondescript noise. Mostly she was thinking how much easier her life would be right now if the Cassadines had succeeded. People who controlled the whole world probably didn't have to file custody suits.

"One thing I can guarantee you they'll bring up..." Heels clipped on wood as Alexis continued to pace. "During the Ice Princess Incident --"

"Is that what you call it?"

"It's convenient shorthand. A woman, Alexandria Quartermaine... died."

Carly's head snapped up. "You killed a Quartermaine?"

"Not me, personally. But trust me -- Edward loves to bring that one up at cocktail parties."

Carly leaned her head back against the wood. "I thought you said they were going to be easy to beat."

"They are," Alexis's voice was strained. "This is what we're doing. We're working on beating them right now. Step one -- no nasty surprises."

Carly laughed slightly. Well, hey. It was worth a shot. "Ok. So we killed a Quartermaine. What else?"

There was a slight pause before she continued. "Well -- there's what I've mentioned before. We're not an average American family by any stretch of the imagination. The Quartermaines are going to push that a lot. Focus on our reputation."

"What..." Carly was scared to ask, frankly. But she cleared her throat and forced herself to look at the woman. She needed this answer. "What about Nikolas?"

"Nikolas is an asset," Alexis assured her. "No matter how insane the world thinks the Cassadines are, Nikolas's reputation is impeccable. Stefan's always made sure of that. To outside eyes he's only done one really questionable thing in his entire life."

The rest of that thought was completely evident in the lawyers eyes. "Marry me," Carly said, blankly.

"Elope. To Vegas. To marry a woman who's relationship with him had been kept a secret up until the rings were on your fingers." Carly opened her mouth but Alexis cut her off. "I don't want you to tell me anything. Not a word. I don't need to know when you met. I don't need to know how long you were together. I do need to know who has those details, though."

"My mother," Carly answered automatically. Then stopped, trying to remember if she'd ever said anything to anyone else about the where, why and how of Nikolas. Nothing came to mind. "I think that's it."

"Good," Alexis was nodding. "Keep it that way. If anyone asks, say something vague. I'll talk to Nikolas about this, too -- we don't want to hand them any ammunition."

Carly nodded and put a hand over her stomach. "Ok." Michael, Michael, Michael...

"The only problem I really foresee with that plan of attack is what they might argue your reasons were."

Carly shot her a look. "Like what?"

"Like you kept it quiet because of the tension between your families."

Carly half-laughed. No -- They got married because of the tension between their families. "I could really give a damn --"

"It's bound to come up," Alexis leaned over and picked up her file again. "They're going to want to make a big deal out of it. Make it look dangerous. Make the marriage look unstable."

"It has nothing to do with me!"

"Carly -- You know this. You know what they hit you with last time. The fact that Jason was in the mob. The fact that his ex-girlfriend was HIV positive. They used that to make you look unfit by association. They're going to try it again. And any violent history between the Spencers and the Cassadines is one of the most obvious targets to fire at."

Carly really was starting to feel sick. She wanted this conversation over. It wasn't fixing anything, it wasn't helping, it was just making her world look darker.

"I can't change that," she said, her voice dead. "I'm not a part of it."

"No. Nikolas is. Or he was." Alexis sighed and threw down her file again. She ran a hand through her hair several times, then tossed a resigned smile in Carly's direction. "I've been thinking about this ever since you and Nikolas were over to dinner. And last night, after I got home, I thought about it again. For hours." She shook her head slowly. "You've put me in a ridiculous position -- Which, incidentally, is proof enough that you're a Spencer -- of actually thinking... That you working for Luke might not be a horrible idea."

Carly stared, blankly. "What?"

"Well -- It would suggest that you were managing to maintain a relationship with both your uncle and your husband's family without the sky opening up and hellfire raining down on our heads. It would take most of the air out of the argument that your families were at war."

The room was starting to spin in front of Carly. The idea of her actually doing something that had a positive aftereffect was nearly unheard of.

"And?" she prompted.

"Then there's the more... Mundane reasons for you to have a job -- any job. It would prove you were functional -- at least more so than the last time you went to court. That you were taking on a responsibility and handling it."

"So it's a good thing."

"It could be," Alexis nodded. "Except for one thing. There is no way you can work for Luke and make Nikolas feel secure. Not the way things stand right now."

"But this isn't about Luke," Carly expelled in exasperation.

"Maybe not for you. But I bet you anything, that's what it's about for Nikolas. Because it's not the fact that you're working -- I don't even think it's the fact that you'd be working as a waitress. It's all about who you'd be working for."

Carly had both hands on her stomach now. She wanted to cry. "So it's good," she spit, "But I can't do it. Is that what you're saying?"

"If you can find a way for him to accept it, I invite you to try. But you have to be aware, every second, that this is hard for him. On top of that -- you have to prove that you can do this job. That you can show up on time, perform the task at hand, and do it all with grace. Because this is a job that people will see you at. And what people see, the Quartermaines will hear about. If that's too much for you to handle, then the time to back out is now."

"You're trying to scare me off."

"Believe me," Alexis sighed. "That's the furthest thing I'm trying to do."

It sounded like too much. It sounded like being asked to step off a cliff edge. "What if I can't?"

"Know that now. We'll work around it some other way -- but don't let the Quartermaines see you fail."

Carly slid down the wall without any preamble. Just devolved into a puddle on the floor. What had she gotten herself into? How the hell was she going to do this? It would kill her if none of this worked. She bit her lip hard, because if she didn't do something she was going to cry. And she was not crying AGAIN in front of Alexis. She just wasn't.

"Anything else?" She was staring blankly into the space in front of her.

"I think you've had enough for today."

"No," Carly shook her head carefully. "There's gotta be something besides all this. Something I should.." She jerked her head up, looking up at the woman desperately. "Just give me one thing, ok? One thing you know will help. Just for right now."

Alexis frowned at her, with something very close to empathy. She clipped across the floor and came to lean against the arm rest of the sofa.

"For right now... Just this," She took a breath. "Your relationship has to look rock solid. You can't fight in public. You can't even bicker in public. You have to be the picture of marital bliss."

Carly snorted. "No pressure."

Alexis smiled and this time it seemed genuine. "You can fight as much as you want here. There's a reason Cassadines like islands. Anything that happens here," she gestured around the room. "Stays here. But not in Port Charles -- At the hospital, the Grille, Kelly's... And definitely not the Quartermaine mansion."

Carly closed her eyes and tried to count how many places she and Nikolas had had... disagreements. There was the airport, but that didn't count because she hadn't said anything. There was... Oh, God. There was the street right out front of the Quartermaine Mansion. Of course -- she hadn't been the one throwing the fit there. But she was the one who'd chosen the location. Stellar. The Nurse's Ball didn't really count. Any argument on the boat had been below deck, not to mention, short-lived. But there'd been that thing outside Kelly's...

"Oh, God," she groaned. "Can we kiss, or do I have to look like a vestal virgin in public, too?"

Alexis gave her an odd look. "As long as Nikolas is the only person you're kissing, there's no problem. But keep it light. You're going for sweet. Ideally, you should make people's teeth hurt."

That was funny. Really, tragically, sickly funny. But she couldn't seem to access the part of her brain that could laugh.

"So what happens next?" She asked instead.

"We get ready for the review."

Carly shivered. "Oh, God."

"It'll be fine. You think about what we've talked about and what you can handle -- We can talk again later in the week. But for right now -- Just keep your feet on solid ground and leave the rest to me."

She watched the woman pick up her briefcase and felt a wave of relief. She was so going back to bed after she left. Enough of this consciousness stuff. She'd take a handful of aspirin and crawl back under the covers and pray for a solution to come via dreams. Hey -- stranger things had happened. She just had to get through the next two minutes. That was it. Then she could fall apart for at least a couple of hours.

And then... There was a knock at the door.

For a second, Carly thought she was going to burst into tears. But when she opened her mouth, something else came out.

"Oh, GOD!" Carly half-growled, half-screamed and scrambled to her feet. It felt good to yell. Felt good to let some of the crippling fear turn into rage. "What the hell is with this place?" She bitched as she stormed across the room. "It's on a damned island, you have to take a boat to get here for God's sake and suddenly it's like I'm living in Grand Central Freakin' Station." She stomped up the three steps to the landing and pulled the door open. "WHAT?"

"Gee," her visitor snarked. "Nice to see you too."

"Lucas," she exhaled and gripped the door jamb so hard her knuckles went white. "Thank God."