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New Page 1
Note: Slightly AU.
Elizabeth - sans Cameron - is marrying Lucky in a beautiful nighttime ceremony
at The Queen of Angels Church; Jason has lost his memory and completely cut
himself off from The Skeezer That Whored Up Port Charles.
Prompt: Only Innocent In The Dark
Her wedding dress fit like a dream. With an ornate fitted bodice, an elegant
veil that fell to the floor, a full, flowing skirt, and a long train, it was
absolutely spectacular.
Cinderella, eat your heart out.
Elizabeth’s mouth pinched to the side as she studied her reflection in the
full-length mirror. She looked perfect. Well, almost perfect. With a sigh, she
reached over to her vanity and picked up a stunning arrangement of red roses
tied with a white satin bow.
There. Now she looked perfect.
Then why the hell didn’t she feel perfect?
This was, after all, the happiest day of her life. She was marrying her
childhood love in a fantasy wedding; after years of trials and tribulations,
their love had survived the test and they were finally here, in the House of
God, ready to exchange vows and become husband and wife. Lucky Spencer was a
good man and always had been – well, with the exception of when he slept with
her sister. But bygones were bygones, or so she told herself.
A knock on the door interrupted her silent reverie and Elizabeth looked over to
see her best friend grinning at her. The Cassidine Princess – soon to be
ex-Princess, thanks to her husband’s adulterous trysts – quietly shut the door
behind her and just stood still for a moment, taking her best friend in.
“Hey.”
A smile tugged on Elizabeth’s lips, painted to perfectly match her classic
nosegay. “Hi, Em.” Her friend just smiled back, still staring, and the brunette
looked at her curiously. “What?”
Emily’s small smile turned smug. “You’re gettin’ married.”
The brunette bit her lower lip and managed a tremulous smile. “I know.”
“You look beautiful.”
The harsh lights in the room beat fiercely down on her as Emily made her way
across the room toward the bride-to-be. Elizabeth let out a breath she didn’t
know she had been holding and set her nosegay down on the vanity before sinking
down on a lush sofa. Emily meticulously arranged the skirt of her dress and the
long veil before joining her, and Elizabeth forced herself to smile at her best
friend.
Her matron of honor looked stunning in a golden bronze floor-length gown that
brought out the warmth in her sparkling hazel eyes. “Just an hour to go – can
you believe it?”
Elizabeth clasped her hands together and grinned tightly. “Yeah…just an hour.”
“One hour until you and Lucky are husband and wife,” Emily sighed dramatically.
“The wedding is going to be absolutely beautiful, Elizabeth – and you guys are
going to be so happy together. Oh, I can’t believe this is happening!”
“Me, neither,” Elizabeth got out, having finally settled upon that as being an
appropriate reply. Emily continued to chatter on about how the hall was done to
perfection and how the guests would be arriving soon; everybody that was
anybody had managed to wrangle an invitation to what would undoubtedly be
the wedding of the year. The son of Port Charles’ legendary Luke Spencer
marrying the granddaughter of the esteemed Steven Hardy – the two of them were a
match made in heaven, as Elizabeth was told over and over again. Not even death
could diminish their love for each other.
A fairy tale romance.
How often had she heard that phrase? Too many times to count, that was for sure.
Playing with her clean, bare nails as Emily continued to prattle on, Elizabeth
thought back to when she and Lucky had first broken the news of their
engagement. It had been a small gathering – just her, Lucky, Gram, Nikolas and
Emily, Luke and the other Spencers – at a banquet table at the Grille. She and
Lucky had waited until drinks and dessert were served before rising from their
seats and announcing their plans to wed.
When their own table erupted in loud cheers of congratulation, so had the rest
of the Grille. Elizabeth and Lucky had both been astonished when eavesdropping
patrons sitting at other tables had added their hearty voices to the melee, and
the news spread like wildfire in the gossip-starved town. She and Lucky couldn’t
go anywhere without someone offering them best wishes or wanting to look at the
ring.
And now that the big day had arrived, it seemed that hardly anyone could contain
themselves. The Spencers and Webbers were ecstatic, as was the rest of the town
or so Emily told her. The Quartermaines were to be out in full force, and the
support of the most influential family in town had everyone else vying for
invitations.
It was all certainly very flattering, to see everyone so excited and invested in
this wedding, but Elizabeth couldn’t help wonder if everyone was just buying
into the fairy-tale motif that practically made her gag. She and Lucky had
fallen in love as the whole town watched. When Lucky had ‘died’ in the fire, the
denizens of Port Charles had again watched her trying furiously to hold it all
together as she spoke at his funeral. And when he returned from Helena’s
possession, it had seemed as if the entire town had held its breath as the two
of them tried to reconnect and rekindle their romance. So many obstacles had
been flung their way, and yet, here they were, ready to enter into the covenant
of marriage. Forget the dress, forget the church, forget the wedding – the story
of their love itself was a fairy tale.
She pinched the bridge of her nose, frowning, and was brought back to the
present by her best friend’s voice.
“Oh, Elizabeth.” Emily leaned in quickly and gave her friend a tight but careful
hug, mindful not to ruin her hair or displace any part of the intricate gown.
“This is going to be perfect. Everyone’s waited so long for this to happen. You
and Lucky are going to be so happy together.” She lingered for a moment, her
arms around her friend’s shoulders, and missed the wince that contorted
Elizabeth’s full lips. Pulling back, the Princess briefly touched her forehead
to the bride’s and stood up. “Okay, I’m going to get out there – it’s almost
time. See you in a bit.”
Flashing her a quick smile, Elizabeth watched as her friend left the room. The
tight grin dropped off her face with the click of the door, and the bride-to-be
stared around the dressing room at the bright, garish flowers, overly
embellished furniture, and the harsh lighting.
It was almost time.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Jason slipped out the side exit of The Queen of Angels, trying to keep out of
sight. When his motorcycle had led him to the massive cathedral, he had stepped
inside for a moment’s solitude and peace. But after wandering around the second
floor balconies, he had realized that there was some sort of lavish function
planned. Closer inspection told him it was a wedding. The entire place was
decked out in red roses and white candles, and he’d occasionally see what he
assumed to be the bridal party rushing about.
And so he had stayed for a few minutes longer before deciding that it was time
to leave. His motorcycle boots clicked on the stone steps as he descended, and
that was when Jason spotted the Quartermaines stepping out of their limousine.
Frowning, he ducked out of sight and watched them proceed to the entrance.
Several gleaming luxury cars waited behind the limo, their passengers also
anxious to enter the church. Whoever was getting married had to be really
important for the entire town to show up like this.
It was a good thing he hadn’t parked his bike in any of the lots otherwise he’d
never make it out without being noticed. No, instinct had him parking on the
grass under the shade of two willow trees a few paces from the country road he
had followed here that passed along the rear of the church.
The moon hung full and low in the sky as Jason lingered by the side of the
massive church, watching as other guests walked in. All of them were dressed in
their finest – men in tuxedos and expensive suits, women in evening gowns, furs
and their finest jewelry. Yeah, this was sure to be yet another one of those
hoity-toity weddings he had heard was so popular in this two-bit town.
Giving up on the spectacle, Jason turned around in the dark and made his way
slowly around the side of the church toward where he knew he had parked his
bike. He could barely see the metal glittering under the moonlight, and Jason
quickened his steps. The voices at the front of the church were growing louder
as joyful guests mingled in the open foyer, and he just had to get away.
His keys were in his hand as he reached the bike, and Jason expertly straddled
it, more than ready to leave. The enforcer was just about to slide his keys into
the ignition when he heard a pair of heavy doors being flung over, and then the
dainty clatter of high heels on a stone floor.
He looked up from the bike and was entirely unprepared for what stood several
paces before him. A young woman had just burst out of the rear doors of the
church – and not just any young woman, either.
No, this was the bride herself.
She was tiny, delicate, and looked even more fragile given her distance and the
glowing white dress that wrapped around her nymph-like frame. Her hair was dark
and put up in an elaborate set of twists under her veil, and it gleamed a rich
chocolate color under the gentle starlight. The dress – long, white, something
out of a Brothers’ Grimm story – was elaborate and intricate, the pristine white
presenting a stark contrast to the dark, barren night that surrounded them.
She wasn’t looking were she was going, and Jason could only hold his breath as
she all but flew down the stone steps and onto the grass. She held her dress
high around the knees, showing off a pair of shapely porcelain legs and delicate
feet encased in matching white stilettos. The woman moved with grace, but there
was a marked apprehension in her movements.
His wide eyes were glued to her, the enchanting little doe. She trotted over the
wet grass, muttering under her breath and occasionally pausing for the briefest
of moments to rearrange her hold on her flowing skirts. Finally gathering the
fabric up in her fists, the young woman looked up and saw him.
Jason could see the shock written on her face as she stopped stock-still.
Neither one moved. His hands were wrapped tightly around the handlebars; hers
still clutched that elaborate gown, though her grip was loosening.
The fabric slipped from her dainty fingers, falling gracefully to her feet and
hiding those wicked stilettos from his view. Jason’s gaze swept over her, taking
in the carefully arranged hair, the decorated bodice that clung to her feminine
curves and offered a very appealing view of her modest cleavage, and the full
skirt and wispy veil.
Elizabeth’s heart had found new lodging in her throat. Jason Morgan, her
one-time almost-lover, sat straddling his beloved bike not three paces away from
her. He was dressed in his jeans, a cranberry t-shirt and that leather jacket.
She was wearing a wedding gown. And yet here they were.
She could feel his eyes burning a trail over her body and she shivered
involuntarily, feeling tears prick at the back of her eyes for the first time
since she had decided she couldn’t go through with this wedding.
He seemed to realize that he had been staring and licked his lips, those
incredible blue eyes darting uneasily around the thicket. “Con…Congratulations.”
It was the stupidest thing he could have said, and she saw him wince as soon as
the word left his mouth. Her hands trembled as she whisked an errant strand of
hair out of her face, and Elizabeth couldn’t help but volley back with an
equally inane reply.
“Best wishes.”
Confusion flickered across those unearthly blue eyes. “What?”
“Best wishes,” she repeated in a breathy voice, feeling faint already and having
no idea why she was still talking. “You offer congratulations to the groom and
best wishes to the bride…”
Her voice trailed off and Jason nodded once, noticing the way her chin quivered.
Large sapphire eyes, carefully emphasized with mascara, false lashes, and liquid
liner appeared glassy under the starlight, and he could feel something in his
heart stir for the bride before him.
“Shouldn’t you be getting married?”
He could see her swallow hard; see the ripple of movement down that elegant,
swan-like neck of hers. Her hands shook visibly as she raised her arms slowly,
wrapping them lightly around her midsection in defensive posture.
“I…I can’t do this.”
Any of it. She just couldn’t do any of it. This was supposed to be the happiest
day of her life – her one day to be Cinderella and have her fairy godmother
grant her every wish – and instead it turned out to be one of her most
miserable. Her marriage to Lucky wasn’t happening, that much was clear, and here
she was, standing in the dark outside a beautiful church talking to her
ex-boyfriend who probably had no idea who the hell she was.
He was watching her with a stoic gaze, but she could see the sympathy peeking
through. “You want to go?”
It wasn’t so much a question as a statement and Elizabeth turned her face away
miserably.
“I have nowhere to go.”
The words struck a forgotten chord deep within him and Jason let out a heavy,
rattling sigh. His grip on the handlebars tightened. “I have a bike…” He had no
idea why he was sitting here talking to this mystery bride with commitment
issues, let alone why he was offering her his help. But something lying latent
in those magical sapphire orbs held him entranced, and he was powerless against
the deep concern and surge of protectiveness that ran through him.
She was looking at him curiously through wide, wet eyes, and that plush lower
lip of hers was trembling. Clearing his throat gruffly, Jason fought to finish
his sentence. “I mean, I can…get you out of here if you want me to.”
“I want you-to,” she got out, choking on the last word. “I really want you to.”
He nodded once, as if it were as easy as that, and beckoned her toward him with
one hand outstretched. She was shaking; he could see the tremors running through
her tiny body. But before he could offer any words of reassurance, the slim
brunette was picking up her skirts and hesitantly creeping toward him.
Jason watched her approach warily, wondering how she planned to deal with that
dress. He shouldn’t have been surprised, though – the girl obviously knew her
way around a motorcycle. She lifted her dress, revealing those lovely white
stilettos, and was about to climb on before something else occurred to her.
He watched as she dropped the dress and took a step back, reaching for her veil.
The wispy fabric came off with one good tug, also dislodging her careful array
of hairpins. The brunette let it fall to the ground and shook her hair free,
allowing a river of dark, sinful waves to cascade down past her narrow
shoulders.
The veil was left forgotten on the thick, dewy grass as the bride-not-to-be
gathered up her voluminous dress once more. Jason’s eyebrows shot up when she
lifted it well up to her mid-thigh and bunched it up before straddling the bike
like a pro. The corner of his mouth hitched up as he waited for her to fasten
her helmet, and when her slender arms slid around his waist, he started the bike
and revved it up.
The church bells rung out the hour as the bike purred to life. Jason pushed back
the kickstand with a smooth backward motion of his boot and Elizabeth’s fingers
dug into his flesh. The familiar sensation of being on the back of Jason
Morgan’s motorcycle – by God, how many years had it been? – overwhelmed her and
she tightened her grip on his waist.
At the stroke of twelve the spell will be broken.
The End.
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