A One Shot

He was waiting for her. There was a spot on campus the woman he had been quite easily following for the past two weeks went every day, the weather having no impact upon her routine. If it rained, she brought an umbrella; if the early spring moisture froze and turned to snow, she just seemed to add another layer to her outfit and enjoyed her isolation anyway. Nothing seemed to stop the pretty blonde from her one moment of peaceful isolation every afternoon, and he was thankful for that fact, because it made it easier for him to track her down, to insinuate a seemingly innocent first meeting.

The campus, a nursing school, was small, private, and he was certainly not a student there. If he was caught on college property, he would be escorted off, but it wouldn't be his first interaction with authority figures, and it certainly wouldn't be the last either, so he risked the minor legal trouble. She was worth it… not that he knew why though. The woman who held him so captivated was attractive with her long, blonde hair, big, blue eyes, and slim figure, but she certainly wasn't the only good looking student on campus. There were others, certainly ones who were far more exotic and who would pose as less of a challenge for him to interest. But he didn't want the other girls; he wanted her.

It was because of her quiet nature. She didn't have to be constantly talking to be saying something. He could read her thoughts just by looking at her, and that was something he had never experienced before. He liked her various smiles, seemingly a different one for every emotion, every situation, and, undeniably, he found himself wondering what kind of smiles he could inspire for her. The sound of her laugh made him feel content, a rare feat in and of itself, and, when he lost himself in her, he could forget about everything else – the pressures of his family, of his life, of his destiny. When he was around her, he was just another boy, and she was just another girl, and that normalcy fascinated him.

So, there he sat, waiting for her to join him. He didn't doubt that she'd eventually show up. In fact, he pretty much had her entire school day timed. He knew what classes she attended, when and where she had her lunch, and, of course, he knew how she spent her free time. She spent it outside, sitting on the grass, leaned up against a random, painted rock. He knew that the landmark had something of relevance to do with the college, but what it was he cared nothing about. The only thing that he was interested in was the fact that the decorative stone provided him with an opportunity to approach the blonde in private, and, after two weeks of simply observing her, he couldn't wait any longer.


Her shocked voice behind him didn't make him jump, for he had been expecting her, and, without turning around, he waited for her to say something else, anything else that he could respond to, and, like he predicted, she didn't disappoint.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… Normally, no one else comes out here, especially on a day like 


She was right. The weather was atrocious. Just a few degrees above freezing, the rain that was falling heavily from the sky was chilling, the perfect weather for one not dressed properly and prepared for the elements, like himself, to catch their death of cold. "But you still came out here," he finally commented, almost with a challenging inflection to his voice.

"A little rain wasn't going to scare me away."

He looked towards the looming clouds, laughing at her understatement. "A little rain, huh?"

Ignoring him, the nursing student ordered, "scoot over and make some room for me. If I'm going to share my umbrella with you, you're not going to hog the rock."

And he complied, easily. Glancing towards the woman beside him, he smirked. "Nice boots," he commented on her particular choice of footwear. With her jeans shoved down into the pink, rubber goulashes, she made quite the sight.

"Shut up. At least I'm not going to be walking around the rest of the day with squeaky shoes and," she added, running her gaze up and down his sitting form, the gesture making him suddenly feel much warmer than the 35 degree, March weather actually afforded, "a soggy bottom. But with that," she teased him as she lowered herself to the ground, "I can't help you with. Unlike my umbrella built for two, my waterproof raincoat wouldn't fit the both of us."

"We could always try anyway."

With feigned outrage, the blonde gasped. "What kind of girl do you take me for? I don't share clothes with a guy until the second date."

Cornering her with a pointed stare, he asked, "and does this qualify as a first?"

"Well, that all depends upon you. Did you bring us any food or something to drink?" He shook his head no in answer. "Then, I'm sorry, but this can only be one of those kismet moments when two people happen to meet for the first time."

He shrugged and replied, "I'll take what I can get," making the beautiful woman beside him laugh softly.

"So, I've seen you around here the past couple of weeks," she admitted, boosting his already lofty confidence. "Are you a nursing student, too?"

"In a way, you could say that." Taking the umbrella from her grasp, he took control of holding the shielding device over them, giving her arm a break. Plus, it only seemed right that he should show her even that small gesture of gallantry seeing as how the occasion didn't afford him the chance to hold open the door for her, pull out her chair, or perform any 

of the other numerous acts of courtesy he had been taught early in life as a child. "Although, I don't study nursing," he revealed with a crooked grin. "I study nurses instead."

"Or, to be more exact," the girl beside him, ostensibly a stranger even though he felt as if he already knew her better than anyone else in his small corner of the world, said, "you study me."

"So, you've noticed?"

"It's been hard not to."


"And I think that you should have talked to me all those weeks ago when you first spotted me at the gas station filling up my car. It would have saved you a lot of time and probably frustration and me a lot of worry. You know, I've been tempted to call the cops on you several times, but decided not to, because, even if you were stalking me, you seemed harmless."

With all the previous humor from their conversation gone, he warned her, "appearance can be deceiving," but, even when her face fell and she shied away from him slightly, he pressed on. "Just because I mean you no harm, that doesn't mean someone else might not in the future. So, do me a favor," he asked of her. "If someone ever starts to follow you around again like I did, call the authorities… as inept as they may be."

"I will," she promised solemnly.


They fell silent for several beats until she spoke up once again. "So, if you're not a nursing student, what do you do besides study nurses?"

"Not much," he confided, slightly wistfully. "I pretty much just wait around, do whatever I want within reason. I drive a lot."

"Well, then, you must do something if you can afford to just waste gas like that, especially seeing how high the prices are these days."

"I have a generous allowance."

"I see," the blonde remarked, nodding her head in understanding at the same time. Refocusing the conversation, she queried, "why do you drive so much?"

"I like the rush of going fast. I'll fill my tank, drive as fast as I can all night long, and see how far away I end up the next morning when I stop to refuel. That's how I ended up here," he explained, gesturing towards the small town that stood out before them, the town she 

went to school in, the town she was from. "Sixteen days ago, I was in this small, hick town in Pennsylvania, and, the next morning, when I stopped for gas, you were there, and I decided to stay for a while, see what this place had to offer."

She smiled, seemingly reading between the lines of his statement, and he had a feeling she knew exactly why he was there. It wasn't to see what the town had to offer; instead, it was to see what she did. "And what's the verdict?"

With that in mind, he answered, "I like you, so, I guess I'll be here for as long as you want me to be."

You were from the North; I was from the South
We were from opposite places, different towns
But I knew it was good, and you knew it was, too
So we moved together like a ball and chain
Minds becoming two halves of the same
It was real, but in shadows it grew

She was supposed to be in class; she wasn't supposed to be here – at his hotel room – again. But, nevertheless, she was just the same, and it seemed to be becoming a habit. A month after sitting together in the rain, they were still seeing each other in private. Her friends didn't know about the man in her life, and she certainly hadn't called to tell her sister about him either, and, even though neither was ashamed of what they were doing or how they felt about one another, she knew that his family knew nothing of her existence either. And he was in contact with them, too.

She had been with him several times when he received a mysterious phone call. With a hushed voice, he would talk to the person, whoever they were, on the other line, always ending the call as quickly as possible. When he was on the phone, he was tense, agitated, withdrawn, and, after the calls ended, he became almost like a man possessed, needing her, craving her, and what was always amazing sex between them became desperate and almost irrationally crazed… not that she was complaining.

It was hard, though, to label what they were to each other. She knew there was an obsession involved on both their parts; they simply couldn't get enough of each other, but what she couldn't figure out was whether or not it was anything more than that. After their first date which had started and ended with her greeting him at the front door and then him taking her, for the first time, up against the wall of her small living room, they only met to have sex. There were no romantic dinners, no wooing or sweet courting, just hot and wild, passionate sex. And she was just to blame for it as he was.

On the night of their planned, first date a month before, she knew exactly what was going to happen. After all, a woman didn't go out and get a bikini wax, purchase new, illicit lingerie, and shave her legs if she wasn't planning on more than just a goodnight kiss. And, since then, he had offered to take her out, to show her off on his arm, to buy her flowers and chocolates, whatever she wanted, but she dismissed his offers. For some reason, she 

didn't want to share him with the rest of the world, and she certainly didn't want to waste the time they had together putting on a performance for others, just so that everyone else would know that they were together. She knew, he knew, and that's all that really mattered, especially since, even without the words being shared out loud, they both that what they had could only be temporary. He wasn't from Ohio, and he had a life, responsibilities, an entire empire waiting for him back in New York, and, when she graduated from school in a year's time, her first job could take her anywhere.

So, that's why she was there – standing before his hotel room door, her classes the very last thing on her mind. After years of being the perfect student, of never skipping school, she felt she had a right to a personal life, and, even if she didn't, she was going to throw caution to the wind and do what she wanted anyway. He was worth the sacrifice.

They were worth the sacrifice.

The door was yanked open before she could even knock… just like it always was, and, before she could speak, her back was being pressed up against the jamb as his mouth came crashing down on hers, brutally, possessively. His knee found its way between her legs, pressing against her intimately, and his free hand, the one not wound tightly in her flowing locks, shot up beneath her shirt, finding the breasts she had purposely left free for him. It was a wanton display of their attraction and a very public one at that, but she would have made love to him right then and there, no questions asked, if that's what he wanted.

But the brunette was just as private about their relationship as she was, and she knew, even without him ever admitting it, that he didn't like to share. After several long, drugging minutes, they were moving together, once again, as he guided them towards his bed, the door being kicked closed without even a glance. She willingly fell backwards as he followed, grinning up at the man before her as he climbed on top of her, his weight braced on his own two, bent arms.

"Hey," he greeted her, his mouth already lowering towards hers. She wanted to groan out in protest, though, when he didn't kiss her, when he simply teased her, flicking his tongue out to lick her lips, but the words failed to form in her throat when she felt him resituate himself so that his knees were between her legs, pushing them open, giving his quickly moving hands access to slide underneath her loose, silk skirt. Unwilling to be a passive participant, she reached for him.

With his shirt already discarded, perhaps never even put on that morning, her adroit fingers settled on the waist of his jeans, flicking them open and releasing the zipper as quickly as her trembling digits would allow. She wanted him immediately with no pretenses of foreplay, but that wasn't anything new. It was always hard and fast the first time every day, then they'd laze around in bed together for the rest of the afternoon, talking, laughing, sometimes sleeping, eventually making love again but slowly the second time, only to return to fast and hard for one quick, last bout of sex before they either went to bed for the night together or she went home alone to her own apartment.

"Just push it up," she instructed the man kneeling above her, referencing her skirt. After all, she wore nothing underneath it, and she didn't want him wasting time by removing it from her. She didn't pause long enough to think about what her actions, what her lack of dress, said about her. She had long since pushed aside her Aunt's disapproving voice, the one from the past that drilled the old adage 'nobody buys the cow if you give the milk away for free' permanently into both her and her older sister's mind, from her head where the brunette she was currently involved with was concerned. But, instead of listening to her advice, instead of following her request, he ripped the skirt right up the middle, brushing aside the two scraps of fabric after baring her to both his hungry sight and his ravenous body.

"Now how am I supposed to go home later?"

As he entered her, the force of his invasion into her welcoming form lifting her hips right up off the bed, he teased her, "looks like you won't be, now, doesn't it?"

And she was glad. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she held onto him as he pounded himself inside of her, her own body surging and moving to meet his every thrust. And, like always, their mouths found each other, too. Barely capable of breathing, his taste and touch and scent surrounding her so completely, she felt lost in him, willingly giving herself over to him completely as they raced simultaneously towards that blinding, shattering finish. He crested first, his orgasm vibrating through her and prompting her own, and, the next thing she knew, their sweaty bodies were entwined together in his bed, their rapidly cooling skin sticking to one another, but, still, neither of them moved. He kissed her neck languidly, occasionally biting or sucking on it to mark the creamy skin as his own, and she held him to her, refusing to allow him to pull away and out. A phone ringing from the bedside table destroyed the silence shrouding them in the hotel room, but neither of them shifted to answer it.

Cause you've got a secret, don't ya, babe?

"It's yours," he told her while, at the same time, rocking his already willing and eager form into her hips once again.

"Ignore it," she instructed the brunette between her legs, giggling when he rolled them over and positioned her on top.

She knew who it was. It was her sister and had been for several days now. The older woman had been calling and calling, but she wasn't interested in talking to her. If it was important, then her older sibling would have left a message, but she hadn't, and, quite frankly, she had better things to do, more important matters and a certain brooding bad boy on her mind to worry about rather than her sister's latest school story or tidbit of gossip, and, for as long as she could, she was going to tune out the rest of the world, forget that it even existed, and enjoy the man she had fallen for, the one who could offer her no future.

I would've shouted loud and broken through
I would have given it all to belong to you
But there were different plans, different rules
You said "where I'm from, there's no lock and key
If you'd be so kind as to follow me
I will show you the way to the rest of my sins."

He couldn't believe he was here again – desperate to see her, watching her every move, obsessed. They were over, in the past, and they were supposed to remain that way forever. She had insisted; he had agreed. But, nevertheless, as the days of winter lengthened into spring, and the gloom of a Port Charles March turned into the hope of April, here he was, stalking her more than two years later. It was like she was in his blood, an unforgettable, necessary part of him. Or, maybe, it was simply the fact that he could finally see she was moving on.

And he didn't think he would be able to handle that.

He wasn't sure what kind of sick joke fate had played on the two of them when circumstances beyond their control brought them both to the same town once again. They had ignored their past, pretended to not know one another, both for their own sanity, her safety, and the wellbeing of others, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to pretend any longer… not when she was circling around another man, falling for another man, because, in his mind, she still was and always would be his.

And he knew that it wasn't fair. After all, he had been with other women since, several of them in fact. At first, they had all been faceless, nameless replacements. He'd pick them up randomly in bars, take them somewhere private, and fuck them, no tenderness, no beauty, and certainly no remorse afterwards. He's call them by her name, screaming those two haunting syllables over and over again as he came inside a temporary warm body that served as her inadequate substitute. And then he had met her current girlfriend… if she could actually be called that.

Long, blonde hair, big, blue eyes, and a slim figure, she had physically resembled the woman he had been forced to give up, but, personality wise, the two were nothing alike, and that's why he had picked her. Whereas the girl from his past was innocent and sweet, untainted by his life, the girl in his present was anything but. Raised in the business and hardened by that life, she was just as jaded as he was, and he didn't fear ruining her. She had long since been tainted, and his presence in her life was nothing more but part of the same.

But it was one thing for him to sexually move on and a completely different story for her to do the same. As he lingered in the shadows, using the dimmed lights of the hospital corridors at night to observe her surreptitiously, he felt his blood boil as her new friend, her prince, put his hand on the small of her back. When she smiled up at the dying man – because the older man would die either from the brain tumor he was suffering from or from his own two hands, he unconsciously started to grind his teeth together. And, when the she 

stood up on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around the other man's neck to give him a hug, he felt the last tenants of his control snap.

Cause you've got a secret, don't ya, babe?
Yeah, you, you got a secret, don't ya, babe?
And I should know
Yeah, I should know

She had felt him following her all evening. Wherever she went in the hospital during her shift, he was there, lurking in the shadows, never quite showing himself but always there. It didn't matter, though, because she had always been able to sense his presence, and, while a part of her was angry that he was doing this again, stalking her, another part was excited by it. Despite the fact that they had agreed to forget their past and keep it hidden from everyone else in Port Charles, and despite the fact that he had moved on and she was trying to do so as well, she had never been able to completely rid him from her heart; she had never been able to completely free him from her system. No matter what, she knew that she would always want him, and, now that he was back, circling around her, she had a feeling the desire was still very much mutual.

Unlocking the door to her apartment, she left it open after passing through the threshold herself, silently offering him admittance. Before the door even shut behind them, she knew he had accepted and that he was rapidly moving across the room towards her. His hands removed her coat before she could speak; his fingers found their way underneath her scrubs before she could even think of protesting… not that she wanted to or even could. While one hand moved up to mold against her left breast, his bare skin cold against her heated flesh, the other snaked below the tied waist of her bottoms, gliding back and forth across her silken skin, falling, dropping, circling ever closer to her personal fire that could burn them both at the same time. And, then, when his lips found her neck, immediately sucking on the fragile flesh and branding it as his own, she was lost – utterly and completely entranced by his touch, by his cologne, but his mere presence.

And she never wanted to resurface again.

So this room was damp where your sins laid
There was that smell in the air of an old place
That hadn't seen much daylight in years
And you threw me down, said, "if ya don't mind
I'm gonna leave you here until night time
Then we can do what we want, my baby, out of the spotlight"

Finally, she was beneath him again. Naked and vulnerable, quivering with both need and fear, a fear be felt as well, she laid there, open and beckoning him to her. And he complied, sinking himself so far inside of her, he wasn't sure he would ever be able to find his way out again even if he wanted to. But, unlike all the times in the past, he took her slowly, his thrusts even and smooth, languorous and almost tantalizing. Their mouths mated, tongues lashing and drinking from the other as if the others essence, their taste, was the only thing they needed to survive, and he found himself wondering if maybe it was.

"I've missed you," he admitted, at last, disentangling his lips from hers. Panting, they moved together in a flawless, harmonized rhythm, but, all the while, he continued to talk, murmuring his thoughts and his feelings against her neck so, even if they weren't alone, she would be the only one who could ever hear him.

"You're never to be with him, with anyone other than me, for that matter. You're mine," he insisted, his pace hastening and becoming more frantic even at the idea of her with someone else. "And I'm yours, always yours, only yours." Lifting his head up from her shoulder, he locked their gazes together, her bright blue orbs singeing into his own dark, chocolate ones. "Because I love you."

"I love you, too."

Her words mesmerized him, captivated him, and he couldn't stop staring at her bare, glistening chest – her heart – afterwards. It was then that he noticed the little gold locket she wore around her neck. It was something new, something she had never worn during those three months he had spent with her two year prior, and he found himself curious. Lifting one hand, he allowed his index finger to trace the delicate necklace.

"What's this?"

"A secret," she breathlessly confessed, her impending orgasm deepening her words so that they sounded husky, almost broken with desire and need. "My secret."

Cause you've got a secret, don't ya, babe?
Yeah, you, you got a secret, don't ya, babe?
And I should know
Yeah, I should know

He went to open the locket, asking at the same time, "can I see it?"

But her answer, shocking him, stilled his movements. "No."

"Come on," he urged her while, at the same time, still pounding his body into her own. Kissing her softly, he pulled back only to tease, "don't you think I already know all your secrets by now?"

"Not this one."

He smirked, not believing her. Knowing what, or more accurately who, was inside her locket, he opened it anyway, ignoring her wishes.

For I'm your secret, aren't I, babe?
Yeah, I'm your secret, aren't I, babe?
Aren't I, babe?

But it wasn't his face he was staring back into. Instead, it was a tiny, newborn baby with dark, almost black hair, and her big, blue eyes. Instantaneously, his movements ceased as did her own, the fact that they had just been making love mere seconds before lost to the both of them.

"Who is this?" When the blonde beneath him didn't answer, he raised his voice, gripping the necklace so tightly, the tiny links of its chain cut into the flesh of his palm. Raising his voice, he yelled, "who the fuck is this, Nadine?"

Fighting back tears but losing the battle, she replied, "Johnny, he's my son." He watched as she swallowed thickly, and, before she even said another word, he felt the first of his own tears slip down his rigidly set face. "He's our little boy."