Chapter Ninety-Three:
Before Swine

“Some men will do it for diamonds,
some men will do it for gold;
They’re wounded but they just keep on climbing.
Sleep by the side of the road…”
-- Tom Waits

Knocking had turned to determined pounding by the time Lucky Spencer managed to lift his head and take in his surroundings. He was not in his room. He was not in Elizabeth’s room. He must be at the Club.

Which made this early morning interruption even more unwelcome than usual. He patted around the bedclothes for his cell phone and checked the time – 8-freakin’ thirty in the AM – then dropped back down onto the mattress, one arm flung over his eyes.

Life was really out for him right now. It was getting downright aggressive.

The pounding turned to door-rattling and then to kicking before a sharp voice shouted, “Lucky! I know you’re in there!”

He sat up like he was on strings. Oh, for the love of… Come on! Stumbling out of bed, he noticed he’d apparently fallen asleep in his jeans. He glanced around for a shirt but it wasn’t immediately in evidence. The pounding recommenced and he let out a groan as he crossed to the door.

“WHAT,” Lucky spat as he yanked open the door to reveal his irate cousin, “Are you doing here?”

“Stalking you,” Carly glared at him and handed over a very large coffee in a paper cup. “Your car was outside.”

Lucky stared long and hard at the cup in his hand, weighed throwing it back from whence it had come. He opted instead to pry off the lid. “Late night. Sometimes I crash here.”

“Yeah, late night not so much at the CLUB, which is where I was stalking you yesterday. Did you get my message?”

Lucky took a long pull on black coffee before glancing back towards her. “Which one?”

She stared at him expectantly. Lucky sighed and dropped into a waiting arm chair. “Yes, ok, you can have Thursday off. Jesus.”

Her penetrating look continued, and he finally raised his brow expectantly and prodded, “What?”

“Your hair.”

He snorted and returned his attention to the caffeine. “It’s the Spencer side of the family, don’t get too comfortable.”

Carly shrugged and walked into the room, which was not what Lucky had been planning on particularly, but he was still trailing a few steps behind the action.

“I’ll be taking care of hair on Thursday. In New York. Now that I know I’m getting the day off.”

Despite what was ramping up to be a towering bad mood, Lucky found he could access his sense of humour when it came to her irritation. “So that’s what you’re dumping me for? A jet set hair appointment?”

Carly flung first her bag and then herself down on Lucky’s still-mussed bed. “It’s not just a hair appointment. It’s a date.”

Lucky grimaced. “You gotta do that on my time?”

“Cassadine restructuring. They’re hiring all these Minions of Finance. There’s some big orientation thing. They meet the Crown Prince at lunch, blah blah blah. Nikolas asked me to come along. So I’ll meet the minions and then go out and spend his money. Get my hair done.” She shook her head for effect, and Lucky noticed for the first time that her hair was getting a bit shaggy. Though women probably didn’t call it that.

“Is this the final assimilation?”

She flashed him a humorless smile. “It was my birthday on Monday.”

He lifted his cup to her in salute. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” Carly shifted her weight uncomfortably for a moment, then glanced back at Lucky. “What is going on with you?”

Jesus, mother of… When the hell did Carly start noticing other people? Why, exactly, had she decided to start with him?

“How’d Nik take Saturday night?”

Carly shook her head. “You take the brother thing pretty seriously, Lucky – But there is no way that’s the answer to my question.”

“Humour me.”

He could tell she was evaluating what to say. Finally she crossed her legs and set her eyes on him. “Nothing major.”

“You sure about that.”

“I am very sure about that.” The eyes did not flinch. “It was a rocky exit, but he’s fine.”

Luck examined his cup and considered that. His mother wasn’t exactly fine, but she wasn’t un-fine. He hadn’t had a lot of time to deal with those home fires in the last few days. It would be convenient to take Carly at her word and pass that news on the next time Laura asked.

But, when did he ever do what was convenient?”

“See,” Lucky drawled, swirling the remaining coffee in his cup in an attempt to look disinterested. “I’d call that an understatement.”

“I know my husband.”

“Ok.”

“He’s got me now. That changes things.”

He glanced over at her. “Yeah. You’re probably right about that.”

“Thanks.”

Her words were clipped, but he noticed some colour had risen in her cheeks. He weighed his next comment carefully, tried to convince himself it was not a good time, but when he opened his mouth he found that his brain had denied his request.

“Speaking of changing things.... I ran our idea past Claude. We took a look at some booking opportunities.” He absently started to turn the cup in his hands. “There are three pretty hot blues acts touring this Fall. They’re not planning to come out this way, but they’re all be in the state around the same time. If we made a good case, I think we could probably book them.”

“For our show.”

He nodded. “Maybe we need to get this off the ground. Cause I’m thinking… Halloween.”

She grinned and he knew she was in. “What’s our cause?”

“Ward House.”

She made an immediate face. “Seriously? Isn’t that—”

“It’s a good cause. And yeah, it’s a bit Quartermaine-adjacent, but my mother’s been involved with them for years. It’ll make sense for Luke’s and it’ll make you look like you’re not consumed with bitterness. Run it past Alexis. I bet it’ll fly.”

“We can’t just do something at GH? What about the pediatric ward?”

“Your husband’s family owns GH. I’m serious – run it past Alexis. She knows the Q layout. Justus isn’t in the fold right now. Keisha and AJ are long since done. It’ll work.”

“God,” Carly looked like she’d just tasted something sour. “Keisha.”

“You know, this whole thing, it’s supposed to be about shinning up some images. Overcoming the past.”

“And getting you on stage.”

Lucky’s stomach did an unwelcome flip.

“Yeah. That too.” He stretched extravagantly. “I’ll make some calls today and let you know what turns up. Good enough?”

Carly nodded, brow furrowed. “Ok, so you do that, what do I do?”

“We’ll see if we can get an event put together. Then we’ll figure out what you do. Good enough?”

“Probably,” Carly reached behind her and came up with his t-shirt from the day before. She chucked it across the room and it landed limply at his feet. “You better get dressed. It could turn out to be a big day for you.”

"Diamonds, huh?"

It was a few hours later and Bobbie was grinning at her daughter as she examined the exquisite and intricate tear-drop pendant hanging around her neck. They were both sequestered in the back corner of a children’s bookstore that had thrived for years down the street from Kelly’s. Carly had held off an entire half an hour before finally breaking down and telling her mother about what Nikolas had done her for her birthday.

"He got it because of the sapphires, it matches my ring." She straightened back up, tucking the necklace into her blouse – the necklace demanded a blouse. "He was worried I might think that was lame, but – cover your shock. I didn’t."

"It’s beautiful,” Bobbie turned her attention back to the shelves of picture books they’d been pouring over. “I hope you didn't give him a hard time about being a little slow to get started on the celebration."

"I gave him nothing even remotely resembling a hard time. And I'm already freaking out about what to do in November. Like, ok, look." She picked up a copy of Where the Wild Things Are off the shelf. "This is his favourite book."

Bobbie raised her brow. "I wouldn't have guessed that."

"Lulu liked it when she was little. And I promise you, the most exclusive, expensive version of this book available? Not exactly diamond encrusted.”

"I see your point," her mother admitted, tucking the book under her arm. “But honey, that’s what Nikolas is like. He'd love anything you get him."

“Just because I gave it to him,” she agreed, grimly. “I know. I boiled hot water for him once, it was like I'd discovered the lost treasure of the Sierra Madre or something,” Carly cocked her head to one side and sighed. “Except he wouldn’t have been impressed with the lost treasure of the Sierra Madre, because he has more money than God." She found her hand wandering back to the pendant now resting at her throat. "And I know technically that means I do, too, but –"

“It’s not the same. Believe me, I know,” Bobbie murmured.

“It’s not!” Carly spoke with a vehemence that surprised her. “And the worst part isn’t just that he gives expensive gifts – because that would be one thing. But he gives perrrrfect gifts.” She made a face. “I mean, he takes ‘it’s the thought that counts’ to a whole new level.”

“Well,” Bobbie pointed out, “he also has employees to help make that happen.”

True enough. And the necklace had been a last minute thing, he’d completely admitted that. But when he gave it to her, he’d talked about how he was taking a cue from her and her gift to Lulu – which had made her insides flutter around something fierce – and then he’d said the whole thing about her ring and how sapphires would always make him think of her, now, and … Oh, it was ridiculously romantic. Even if she had been mad, it wouldn’t have stood a chance against him.

“He’s taking me to New York, too.”

At that, her mother blinked and Carly saw a familiar shadow cross her face. “When?”

“Tomorrow. He has business – and his assistant has set me up with all these appointments. Like shopping and stuff.”

“And then?”

Carly found she was blushing. “Um. Dinner someplace totally obscene and probably … we’ll go do something in the city. You know. Culture.”

She chanced a glance at her mother and found her beaming. “He’s spoiling you. I like that about him.”

Carly pressed one hand to her cheek, which was actually hot. “It feels a lot like I’m stuck in the middle part of Pretty Woman.”

Her mother let out a shout of laughter. “That movie, believe me, is a fairy tale.”

“So what do you call this?”

“Well,” Bobbie shrugged. “Actually, it sounds a lot like being a Cassadine wife. It has perks.”

Carly sighed. She was never going to get used to the fact that Bobbie had also been in the role she was playing right now. Granted, it wasn’t as awkward as the whole Tony thing, but still…

“I haven’t met any business associates yet. Except for his assistant. And I don’t think she counts.”

“Well, you met his father. That’s probably enough preparation.”

Carly didn’t say anything. She had met his father – she had failed with his father. That was not some brilliant story of her charm and wit winning out. And Nikolas had asked several times if she was sure she wanted to do this – she knew she could back out. But, God, she didn’t want to. Sure, it had the potential to be incredibly boring, but she still liked the idea of being introduced to these people, of being a part of that enormous portion of his life. And she really liked the idea that he wanted her there, that – on some level, at least – he was proud of her.

That was what kept making her face go hot. It felt so incredibly real. It felt like they were really becoming a team. It was both public and intimate at the same time. And it made her keenly aware of just how deep her feelings towards him ran.

So, hopefully, she’d manage to get through it without being horrifying.

Having thoroughly doused herself with that bucket of cold water, she plucked a large treasury of Dr. Seuss stories off a low shelf and passed it to her mother without discussion. Some things were just accepted necessities. “So anyway,” she pulled in a deep breath. “That’s what I have to compete with. Jewellery. New York City. And he’s probably had his full of both.”

Bobbie nodded, absently. “Well, men don’t seem to care about this stuff as much as we do. Besides, you’ve been through this before! What did you used to give Jason?”

Other than key chains? “Leather.”

She thought she saw her mother roll her eyes. “Well, ok. There are always clothes. But really – It’ll take care of itself. I know you, you’re just getting started. Pretty soon you’ll have designed your entire life together, he’ll be wearing clothes you picked out for him and living in rooms you decorated in a house you chose – and he’ll be ridiculously happy about all of it.”

Carly couldn’t help but grin at the picture. “He really does love the whole domestic chaos thing.”

Bobbie laughed. “So there you go – he’ll never need a socket wrench from you, but if you give him a family, it’ll be more than equal to a –” she stopped short, looking stricken. “Oh, Carly. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

Carly felt the back of her neck prickle, but she forced herself to shrug like they had not just entered dangerous waters. “Why not?”

“Well. I know it’s not a topic you’re very fond of.”

“We’re in a children’s bookstore. Kids are going to come up.”

Bobbie nodded, distractedly. “You know, I also never bring up…” she waved a hand to indicate Jason. They’d established a Jason-shorthand over the past few years. “And I just did that without thinking, too.”

Carly spotted a copy of The Paperbag Princess and found herself smiling as she reached for it. “You’re a terrible person.”

“You just seem so…steady. I don’t know how else to put it. You seem so –“

“Grounded?”

That was a step too far and Bobbie gave her a knowing look. “I don’t know, daughter of mine, that I will ever call you grounded. But… Yes. Something like that.”

Carly sighed and sank down onto a bench that sat between the shelves of books. “I know. I keep waiting for it to go away, but I think Kevin’s actually pretty good at his job.”

Bobbie hesitated, then opted to sit down beside her daughter. “Why do you say that?”

She let her eyes flit over to her mother, then trained them on the floor. “Because pretty much from the minute I started seeing him he started hammering away at this theory that there was something I wasn’t telling him. And he kept insisting it was important.” She pulled in her breath. “And I guess he was right, because since I told him, and Nikolas, and then you…” She shrugged and brushed her hair back from her face. “It just feels like, for as long as I can remember, I’ve been waiting for the roof to cave in. And it always has. But there’s always been something I was trying to keep secret. And there isn’t, now.”

Bobbie’s eyes flitted across her daughter’s face. “Does that mean you’ll tell me why you were so anxious for that HIV test on Monday?”

Ouch. Point Bobbie. “Yeah,” she exhaled, heavily. “I was blinded by the light.”

“In English?”

“I had a moment of clarity…” She shook her head. “Like that, for a long time, you and Jason cared a lot more about whether or not I was taking care of myself, I didn’t pay any attention to what I was doing.” She forced herself to look at her mother. “Alexis suggested I get tested and I guess I let my imagination run away with me. But I told you – I was fine. Jason’s fine. I just wanted proof.”

Bobbie wasn’t entirely buying. “That’s all it was?”

Carly gazed into the middle distance for a long moment. There it was, another secret to keep. She really didn’t know what to do with this one. “It was messy, with me and Jason. The end was a disaster. You know that.”

“I’m beginning to wonder if I really know when the end was.”

Yeah, that was fair question. Rather than admit she wasn’t that sure, either, she shrugged. “I guess it was when I met Nikolas.”

“Carly.”

She glanced over at her mother. “I haven’t been unfaithful to him.”

She should have been offended or angry, but she found herself just saying it. It was true. Where Jason was concerned? She’d mostly stayed away. The longer they were together, the more away she stayed.

“I didn’t think you had,” Bobbie said, cautiously. She was also expecting some wrath. “What I started wondering after I saw you that day was… Has Jason been unfaithful to Robin?”

Carly shook her head, though she wasn’t making a denial. “Robin knows everything.”

“Does Nikolas?”

“Nope. And he doesn’t want to.” She exhaled. “Look, I don’t want to know all the details of what happened with him and Robin and he definitely doesn’t want to know everything that happened with me and Jason. If I went and told him all the stuff I did when I was with Jason, it would just give him something to obsess over.” She shrugged. “And none of it matters now.”

“You’re sure about that?”

She was. Actually. She could tell him everything – she wasn’t worried about him changing his mind and leaving her. Not anymore. Now she was worried about what he’d do with it, how he’d spin it around in his head – in complete silence, of course – about how it could threaten his security. She knew how vulnerable he was – she knew what doubt did to him. She wasn’t going to willfully contribute to his insecurity. She just wasn’t.

“I had a dream I was pregnant,” she said, finally. Bobbie blinked in shock and Carly shook her head. “Don’t worry. We don’t have plans. I just… Had a dream. It was the first time I’ve ever dreamed about being pregnant and it wasn’t a nightmare.” She gave a wane smile. “But it still woke me up. And I was lying there, in the middle of the night, and Nikolas… He had his arm on my stomach. And I just… I wished, just for a second, that it wasn’t a dream. I wished that I was going to give him that. It was like I could feel how much it would mean to him.” She turned on the bench and leaned closer to her mother, dropping her voice like this was something that needed to be kept between them. “I’ve never had that with anyone before. It was like I was right inside him” She put her hand over her heart and clenched it into a fist. “I knew, just like that, what he’d feel if he knew he was going to be a father. And I thought … he’d be so happy. And then I thought… It would make him feel so safe.” Carly felt her throat tighten dangerously. “Mama, I don’t think he ever feels safe. Not really. In a way, that’s why he married me. Do you know what I mean?”

Bobbie looked apprehensive. “He married you because he loves you.”

“He married me because,” she dropped to a whisper, “he wanted to hold on to me.”

She knew that was true. He’d said as much. And she was fine with that. She’d married him for some of the same reasons. Because this was what they had in common. Background, education, sexual history – none of that mattered, because what they did share was far more primal and necessary than that. They both wanted to find a place where they could let go and stop fighting for survival. She got that now. She’d started to see it the night he’d lost his grip so completely with her. What he kept saying was true – he was just like her.

She sat up and pushed her hair back. “Look. I know how he feels about the idea of me with other men. Telling him every single thing that ever happened between me and Jason isn’t going to make him feel safe. It’s going to make him feel like… less.”

“You’re probably right about that.”

Carly nodded. She was. Her certainty was like steel. “It won’t be true. But it’ll be how he’ll feel. I don’t want to do that to him. He’s had enough of that.” She straightened up. “And there’s no point. I’m with Nikolas now. That’s not going to change.”

Bobbie nodded, though the concern still showed in the line of his mouth. “Well,” she sighed, finally. “I guess that’s what matters the most.”

It was optimistic to expect Nikolas to be home when Carly stumbled back to the guest cottage at 4:00. It had been a long day – hunting down her mysteriously unavailable cousin, therapy session with Kevin, followed by all the shopping she and Bobbie had done. They’d taken everything back to the Brownstone and got the back apartment’s living room set up for Michael’s inaugural visit on Saturday. It had been a heady moment, looking at the place she’d lived without him for so long, now with toys and books and awaiting his arrival. He wouldn’t remember the time they’d lived there together. There would be no nostalgia for him.

There shouldn’t be. He was three.

Still. It had left her feeling both sad and happy and hopeful – she felt emotional and confused and she just wanted to see her husband. She wanted to curl up with him and go over the plan for the next few days. The traveling, the absolute guarantee that they’d be home long before Saturday afternoon, how they’d structure a day where she didn’t have the Quartermaines looking over her shoulder… But mostly she just wanted to have his arms around her. She wanted the comfort that brought.

If it was comfort she was looking for, the guest cottage probably wasn’t the best place to go looking for it, because when she walked through her front door she found no sign of Nikolas and a conspicuous silver tray sitting on the dinning room table. It was exactly where Nikolas had set down her birthday present when she’d come home that night and she felt herself drawn towards it like she was on rails. The tray had a black velvet box with a white card sitting on top of it. As she approached she could read the elegant fountain-pen script: “Caroline”.

Not from Nikolas. He called her by her real name more than occasionally, but he’d never address anything like that. And it was not his hand-writing. It was most definitely belonging to someone else, though still very much a Cassadine.

There was an argument to be made for leaving it be. Though that meant Nikolas would come home and see it and he would get ticked off. And then there would be a whole thing with his father. And he might even want to leave the island, which OH GOD, she could not deal with right now. Yes, it was inertia that was keeping them there at this point. Stefan was recovered. They could leave any time. But it was just so much easier to stay put.

And she wanted to stay put. She’d mostly avoided actually having to see Stefan – every time she had it had been civil and brief and absolutely expected. She’d looked for some indication that he was resuming his mind games. There hadn’t been anything.

But this… This could be nothing else. Which is why she should call Mrs. Landsbury and ask her to come take it away. That was the solution – without a doubt.

Carly reached out and picked up the card, tearing it out of its envelope with something resembling zeal. Inside was a piece of embossed card stock that bore both the Cassadine crest and more of Stefan’s studied cursive.

Caroline,

I understand you are celebrating a birthday as you prepare for the upcoming efforts regarding your son. I thought it might be advisable, therefore, to pass on this small token. It belonged to Nikolas's great-great-aunt Albina and you may find use for it in the upcoming weeks.

With respect,

Stefan Cassadine

Nice touch, the full name. She turned the card over in her hands -- there was nothing particularly interesting about it. Assuming there wasn't some odorless poison you could absorb through your finger tips...

She had a sudden chill and let it drop from her hands. Neurotic, maybe, but where Stefan was concerned, she could stand to be more neurotic. Still – she found herself reaching for the box. It, clearly, was more jewellery. And she should absolutely leave it alone.

The hinges on the box let out a nearly musical squeal as the opened the box and Carly – hating herself for it, to her very toes – let out a gasp.

It was a double strand of very fine, very cultured pearls. The clasp betrayed the age – 1920s. It had a definite deco influence. They were expensive, antique and steeped in meaning. He meant for her to wear these to court – or whatever facsimilie they would be attending. Because pearls like these were worn by women of repute. Women who demanded respect.

She swayed a moment and desperately debated what to do. She should storm over to Wyndemere and throw them in his face. Tell him once again that she was through being manipulated by him. She was not going to fall for this – and the fact that it felt slightly paternal and possibly even sweet – that was just more of him zeroing in on her weaknesses. God, he was good. He was very, very good.

She was underestimating him, though, because when she glanced back at the silver tray she realized that there was something else on the table – something the tray was sitting on. She pushed it aside and swore out loud.

It was a hardback book of Russian fairytales. Printed in English, she lifted the cover hesitantly and wasn’t terribly surprised to see, in a juvenile hand, the words “Property of Nikolas Cassadine”.

Oh, he was evil. He truly was. She’d sworn up and down that she’d never give him entry again. He was out in the cold for life. And she had really and truly believed it.

She’d been wrong. She still hated him – but he had just gained a small foothold. And there was nothing she could do about it.