Chapter Thirty-One:
After Glow and Gloom

Lucky's room above Luke's.

Lucky enters and tosses his coat over a chair. He's feeling bitter and sick, and he still has the remains of his microfiche headache. This evening has been, for the most part, a complete bust. Except for the fact that he worked things out with Jason again. Great. Jason, things were fine. Everything else? Not so much. Emily was being incommunicative, which drove him crazy, and usually meant they were on their way to a big blowup. Not that he hadn't brought it on himself. He couldn't think about this. He didn't know how to back off. There was no other choice. This was not something he'd gone looking for, it had fallen into his lap. He wished briefly Emily didn't know how much accidents like this got his blood pumping. In the last week, things finally seemed to be cooking again. Sure. At the cost of his relationship with Emily. More complications.

Lucky sits down on the bed, and stares at the wall. He's not tired, and he's got everything he needs to continue his investigation of Hannah. The only thing causing him to hesitate is the time. He glances at his clock/radio, which pronounces 2:30 AM. He was stuck with Jason for longer than he'd thought. He lies back on the bed, tempting sleep, but instead he finds himself retracing both his discussion with Emily and his encounter with Nik. He sits up again.

Lucky: No thanks. (He stands up and crosses to his desk, running his fingers lightly over his laptop. He flips it open and hits the on button. The familiar start up noises reverberate through the room. He finds it strangely calming. Sitting down, he takes out the notes Jason gave him, and prepares to seek out his quarry.)

Hannah's Bedroom

Three AM. and Hannah has drifted back into the waking world. She lies, entangled in Nik's arms, and tries, once again, to summon some sort of panic. Her defense mechanisms are letting her down. She simply can't bring herself to care about her life being in danger, or any other consequence of being here. The only thing in her life that holds any meaning is found in Nikolas. She doesn't understand it, and she doesn't want to. She reflects on this, as she feels him stir.

Nik: (quietly) I get the feeling you're still fighting me.

Hannah: I am. (She sighs, and tilts her head up to look at him). But I'm not winning.

Nik: Then why are you trying?

Hannah: Because I feel like I should. It seems to be the rational thing to do.

Nik: (stroking her hair) I still don't understand you.

Hannah: (deepening her voice, mockingly) And how do you feel about that? (Nikolas laughs slightly)

Nik: As long as I don't have to see what the opposite of this is, I'm going to be fine.

Hannah: The opposite.... I don't know what that would be.

Nik: Brutal carnage.

Hannah: (freezing) That's... the opposite?

Nik: Of making love? I think so. I've never felt this alive and euphoric. The other extreme would be death.

Hannah: That is the darkest compliment I've ever received.

Nik: Hazard of spending time with a Cassadine. (He lifts her chin, bringing her mouth to his. She lets herself melt into the kiss, trying to calm the anxiety she's suddenly accessed. She concentrates on his touch and the gentle caress of his lips. She tries to hold the moment close, even as they part)

Hannah: Are there a lot of those? Hazards.

Nik: You certainly seem to think there are.

Hannah; I don't.... I never ever thought when I left Luke's last night that I would end up here with you.

Nik: No. Neither did I. (She takes a deep breath, steeling herself to do the only thing she can try to do to protect herself).

Hannah: Luke can't know about this, Nikolas.

Nik: (expecting this) There's nothing he could do about it. I told you, Laura would have a fit if he fired you.

Hannah: It's more complicated than that, Nikolas. I have no idea what it is that exists between you and him, but I do know that even if he didn't fire me, it would be ... awful to work there. And (She presses closer to him, trying to play up the intimacy angle) I don't want anyone else in this relationship. I'm not good with families, or outside influences. (She looks up at him) For now, can we please keep this between us?

Nik: So there's something to keep between us then.

Hannah: I have a suspicion that there is, yes.

Nik: (Looking into her eyes with a certain fascination) I don't know what this is. But if you want it kept quiet.... I don't have confidants, Hannah. I don't discuss my personal life with anyone. Except you. That's what was different about you all along. I like to be in control. I was raised, taught to seize it. But from the beginning, I never had any control where you were concerned. I told you things I'd never had said out loud to anyone else, not even my family. You don't have to worry about my discretion. It's a part of who I am.

Hannah: You are being very cryptic.

Nik: You can't accuse me of that. Glass houses.

Hannah: No, I suppose I can't. (She pulls him into another kiss) I don't want anything else, Nikolas. I don't want diners out, or to meet your parents. But I need you. I need you to make everything else bearable. (Nikolas lets this sink in. There are warning bells all over the place, things suggesting to him over and over again that she's right -- this will not end well. There is no pain he can conceive of at this time that is worth stopping this. He grips her face in his hands and kisses her passionately, losing himself in her again.)

Jason's Penthouse.

Emily sits on the couch staring straight ahead. She managed all of two hours sleep before she gave up completely. She feels like screaming, but she can't summon the energy. She hates feeling this way. She hears a creak behind her, and looks up to see Jason descending the stairs. Jason nods at her, fixing his watch on his wrist. Emily looks over her shoulder and notes the sunrise reflecting on the lake. If she was in a better mood, she'd find it breathtaking. Today she just doesn't care.

Em: You couldn't have gotten much sleep. (Jason stops and looks over at Emily)

Jason: Neither could you.

Em: I'm used to it. (Jason walks over to the desk, and begins to shuffle through papers. Emily watches him, considering the fact that she has always understood that whatever it is Jason does over there with all of his papers and books and ledgers, it's something she is never supposed to think about, or ask questions about. She wonders if this is something Lucky wants in his life at some point, and if she could live with it. What is it she's trying to do with her life? How does Lucky fit into it? And how on earth can she even ask that question? This kind of thinking kept her up all night. She stands up suddenly, and walks out to the balcony, not bothering to put on shoes or a coat. It's freezing. There is snow everywhere, blanketing the city. She stands on the hard brick , under the lip of the awning, her feet cold, but not wet. She finds herself shivering in the chilliness of the morning air. She breathes it in, filling her lungs. She hears the door slide open behind her and waits for Jason to speak. He doesn't. She lets out a shaky breath) It's beautiful, isn't it? With the snow.

Jason: (after a moment) Yeah.

Em: I can't even tell you how much I hate this town. (she frowns bitterly) I don't know if I can do this.

Jason: Do what?

Em: Any of this. My whole life, the last few months, it's been about getting out of this place. And now I don't even know if I can do it. (She stops herself, and breathes again). Is he going to work for you again?

Jason: (after another pause) Yes.

Em: Permanently?

Jason: That's up to him.

Em: Or up to me. If I decide to demand he stop for another two weeks. (Jason says nothing) I always hated that. You know? Girls in high school who got all uptight about stuff their boyfriends did that wasn't wrong or anything -- it was just that they didn't like it. Sarah Webber tried to do that to Nikolas. It's like they fell for these guys and then spent all their time trying to change who they were. And I couldn't figure out how they could say they loved them and then want to make them into something completely different. I felt so superior. I knew my boyfriend and I loved him exactly the way he was. I'd never change a thing. And now here I am like some shrew saying "You have to stay here in this place I know you can't stand, doing nothing like some loser and wait around for me." How fair is that?

Jason: It's not.

Em: I don't think so either. (they stand in silence a moment. She turns to face him) Is he good? I mean, whatever it is he does for you, is he good at it?

Jason: He's very good at it.

Em: He'd have to be.

Jason: He's not in any danger, Emily.

Em: Yet.

Jason: Are you going to tell him not to work for me?

Em: I can't stand the thought of him .... I love you Jason, but I don't want Lucky to turn into you. I don't want him to have your life. And I don't think he wants it. But if he does, then I don't know what I'll do. (She shivers at the cold again) I don't want to stand in the way of him being happy. When he's... when he's honestly happy, he is the most incredible person to be around. Smart, and fun and .... I can't even describe it. And no matter how depressed or messed up I'm feeling, he makes me laugh, and gets me to relax. That's what I want him to be all the time. Happy. Because that's him at his best. And I think working for you makes him happier than anything else these days. (she turns away) Certainly more than I do anymore. (Emily's lip begins to tremble and she swears at herself as she begins to cry) All I ever wanted was to find a way for us to be happy together. Because I don't know if I can be happy without him. But I do know I can't be happy when I have to worry that he's going to get himself-- (Emily stops short of saying the word. She turns back to Jason) I know that I can't tell him what to do. And I won't stand in his way. (She starts to cry harder) But I can't feel happy about it. (Jason looks at Emily, deeply touched. He knows she's not asking him not to work with Lucky, and she's not blaming him for this. But the pain she's in causes him to ache for her. He reaches out and pulls her into his arms, holding her tightly. Emily falls against him, and lets herself cry on his shoulder).

Lucky's room.

Lucky, on no sleep, and not particularly caring, has successfully worked his way into one of the last vestiges of illegal information. Having scanned almost all other possible sources of a paper trial, there is no doubt in his mind that Hannah Hargreaves doesn't exist -- at least not this one. What little proof of her existence there is -- a social security number that checks out, but doesn't lead anywhere -- screams of false identity. It also screams money, which makes him uneasy. This one last check he's running on her is almost superfluous as he has no doubt that they're dealing with someone who's not on the up and up. He hits a few keys and leans back in his chair, suddenly aware of the ache in his muscles, the product of having been here too long, and not having gotten any sleep. The computer whirs, then stops, freezing a moment. He silently wills the page to load. It flips onto the screen, and he breathes a sigh of relief and pages down until he comes across what he was looking for. He stops dead and stares at the screen. There is all the information he ever needed to convince him that Hannah Hargreaves has to be expelled and fast. He swears under his breath, and shuts down the machine, reaching over and grabbing his coat. He glances over at his clock/radio again, 8:13 AM. There's no way Hannah will be awake. Perfect time for an ambush.