HHFC#10: Halloween Quiet? I figured it would be a big ol' vamp scareapalooza. ~ Xander in Halloween, Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Shattered Vows

There wasn't another day during the year that turned on Lucky Spencer more than Halloween. He loved the utter abandon that must women allowed themselves to fall prey to. The costumes they wore provided an opportunity to let their inner seductress loose, their normal reservations melting away under the excuse that it was just dress up and that it didn't mean anything. And, then, when those scantily clad women, masquerading as naughty nurses, sex kittens, crooked lady cops, and, of course, raunchy vampires, gathered at a party or at a dance club, their inhibitions on the dance floor simply disappeared, their bodies grinding more sensuously to the gyrating music than they would during any other occasion. To enjoy the wanton display of sexuality properly, the cadet merely sat back languidly in a dark booth, his voyeuristic approach to the holiday fading unnoticed into the hazy, shadowed background.

However, there was just one blemish upon the otherwise perfect day, and that was his fiancée.

For her own reasons, reasons Lucky mentally understood and felt were validated, Elizabeth didn't enjoy the holiday he loved so much. Ruined for her as a child because her parents always forgot her birthday, even as an adult she couldn't find pleasure out of the pageantry of All Hallows Eve. She hated to be physically on display, her body almost always covered up when in public, and, despite the fact that she would give up control when they were alone together, she was still uncomfortable with the rest of the world seeing her as a sexual being with needs and desires just like everyone else.

Part of that discomfort stemmed from the fact that she had been raped as a teenager, and, while he hated the fact that the woman he loved had been hurt like that, Lucky also knew that the experience held the brunette beauty back. It kept her from fully expressing herself, even, sometimes, with him, and it also made her fear her own body and its reactions. There were moments, though, where he found himself watching her, when it seemed as if she almost forgot the horrific violation that had been visited upon her, mainly when she was entirely lost and distracted by a painting she was working on, and it was then, during those moments, when he feared she would one day realize that she was no longer a victim. When that happened, he knew his fiancée would have an epiphany, and all her previous reservations and inhibitions would disappear.

She would start to express her sexuality physically by wearing more makeup, by dressing in a more provocative way, by moving in a more luxurious display of femininity. And, inevitably, she would become curious, curious about things she hadn't experienced before, curious about herself and her own body, and, most frighteningly of all, curious about other men. Because of how long they had been together and because of her reservations, Elizabeth had been with only him, and, though his male pride appreciated the fact that she was his and only his, Lucky also feared that fact.

They were getting married in just a few short months, and, as he slouched in his booth, greedily drinking in the licentious female bodies dancing before him, the police cadet realized that he would rather his fiancée got her experimentation and inquisitiveness towards other men out of her system before his ring was upon her finger. With that thought in mind, he stood, eager to find the woman he loved, for, even though she hadn't come to the realization yet that she did need to be with, at least, one other person before she permanently settled down with him, Lucky knew the fact to be true, and he was going to make sure that she did exactly what was needed, even if he had to go so far as to pick out the other man for her.

In fact, he realized as he wandered around the stiflingly sticky club, it would probably be better if he did choose her partner for her, because, that way, he would also be able to control the outcome. While he might want Elizabeth to enter into their marriage with more experience, he did not want nor need, for that matter, the man she experimented with to one up him in the bedroom. He needed to find someone who wouldn't be as romantic, who wouldn't treat her like a queen and worship from her body, someone who was rather dense and quiet and would refuse to indulge the young artist in her habit of conversation after sex. He needed someone for her who was crude, simplistic, a total and complete guy in every negative connotation of the word. He needed…

… Jason Morgan, the man who was currently chatting up his fiancée, completely unaware of the fact that his attempted seduction of the brunette was falling right into Lucky Spencer's hands.

Standing back far enough that he could still eavesdrop on their conversation without giving away his presence until he was ready, the cop in training listened in while the woman he loved chatted completely at ease with Port Charles' most notorious criminal. Looking at Elizabeth objectively, he was surprised to see just how relaxed her posture and body language were in the hitman's presence. Hell, she was even smiling up at the older man.

"You don't remember me, do you, Mr. Morgan?"

"It's Jason," the enforcer corrected immediately, and Lucky found himself rolling his eyes at the blonde's obvious flirtation. "And I'm sorry, but I don't. Why don't you remind me, give me a hint or two."

"Alright," his fiancée agreed, laughing softly. "It was quite a few years ago. In fact, I was still in school."


"No," she corrected the mafia man, "high school. Anyway, I was with my fiancé, then boyfriend, at the old boxcar, and you came to see him…" As her words trailed off, Jason Morgan simply continued to stare at her, greedily taking in her rather conservative appearance as though her librarian costume was the sexiest thing he had seen in years, causing Lucky to scoff. The guy was such a sick fuck. He couldn't believe they were once friends, let alone that he had actually worked for him, admired him. Things had certainly changed over the years.

Recapturing his attention, the woman he loved spoke again, "I guess that doesn't ring any bells." Holding her hand out to shake the hitman's, she introduced herself, "I'm Elizabeth Webber."

As the blonde shook her petite hand, holding onto her for much longer than he needed to or than what was commonly deemed polite or proper, he teased, "are you sure we actually met before? I would be really disappointed in myself if I forgot you, Elizabeth."

She shrugged, smiling once again. "Maybe I've just changed a lot."

"Grown up," the enforcer supplied, leaning, in the cadet's opinion, lewdly towards the blue eyed brunette, almost to the point where their two bodies were pressed together. Honestly, Lucky was surprised that his fiancée didn't object to the older man's forward advances. "Matured," Jason continued. "Became a woman rather than just a little girl."

On a whisper, the artist replied, "something like that, I guess."

And that's when Lucky felt it was time to step in. "Well, would you look at this," he drawled out, amused when Elizabeth jumped back from the hitman as if she had suddenly been scalded. "Morgan, are you trying to pick up my fiancée?"

"It wasn't like that," the woman he loved defended. "Jason and I were just talking… about the past."

"Oh, so it's Jason, huh," he questioned, smirking at her deer caught in headlights expression. "I didn't realize that the you two were on a first name basis with each other."

"Look, nothing happened, Lucky, and, even if Mr. Morgan was interested and had been trying to pick me up, which he wasn't, that wouldn't matter, because I would never…"

"I was."

Blanching visibly, Elizabeth turned to face the enforcer. "I… you… what?"

"It's not a difficult concept," Lucky taunted her. "He wanted you."

"But that's crazy," his fiancée argued. "Why would he…" She turned to face Jason. "Why would you want me when there are a hundred other women here tonight more experienced, more beautiful, and definitely more available than I am?"

The blonde shrugged noncommittally. "Does there have to be a reason? I wanted you, so I went after you. How was I supposed to know that you were engaged to Spencer here? You don't have a ring on."

"Lucky's going through the police academy," the woman he loved excused. "We couldn't afford a ring right now."

Embarrassed, he yelled, "Elizabeth!"

Looking contrite, she simply stopped talking.

"I see," the mafia man stated, eyeing the cadet as if he was something he had scraped off the bottom of his motorcycle boot. "It was nice meeting… seeing you again, Elizabeth." With that, the hitman went to leave, but, before he could walk away, Lucky stopped him.

"Jason, wait." Although the blonde turned back around, he said nothing, waiting for the younger man to state his peace. "So, you want my fiancée; you want to fuck her?"

"Lucky, please," the woman he loved practically begged him to stop. He could hear the humiliation in her voice, the discomfort, the shame, but he ignored her protests.

"You have one night," he offered, spreading his hands out in a take it or leave it fashion. "One night and then she comes back to me. For good."

"Lucky, what are you doing," Elizabeth whispered, tears obvious in her tone.

Disregarding her, he repeated himself. "One night, Morgan." And, with that, he turned around, walked away, and disappeared into the sweaty, seductive crowd.


They had ridden around on Jason's bike for hours after he had convinced her to leave the club with him. Hurt, confused, and angry, Elizabeth had been unsure of what she should do, let alone what she wanted to do. She felt dirty, as though she was just some piece of meat meant to be passed around from one man to another, she felt ashamed, but, most disturbingly of all, she felt utterly and completely betrayed by the one person in the world whom she had believed was always and would always be on her side.

Standing together at an abandoned bridge in the middle of nowhere, the enforcer beside her quietly asked, "do you want to talk about it?"

"No," she bit out quickly, harshly, but, before the word was completely free of her swollen lips, the brunette found herself continuing. "I just don't understand why Lucky did that. We're supposed to be getting married in a few months, he says that he loves me, that he'll always love me, and I love him."

Thoughtfully, Jason asked, "how long have the two of you been together?"

"For… forever," she breathed out, trying desperately to remain in control. "Since we were still kids, teenagers. Lucky, he… he rescued me when I was fifteen after I had been raped." Before she pressed on with the story, Elizabeth gave the hitman a moment to adjust to her revelation, and, by the increased rate of his breathing, she knew her statement had hit him hard, that he had been angered by the painful disclosure. "Eventually, after he put me back together, piece by piece, we started dating, and, other than when he was kidnapped and brainwashed, we've been together ever since."

"Maybe he's afraid that one day you'll wake up, realize you're bored, and that you'll seek out someone else, simply because you've never had that experience before."

"That's insane," the artist objected, sounding annoyed all over again. "When you love someone with your whole heart, you don't get bored, and you don't doubt your partner's sincerity or their feelings for you either."

"I agree."

Rocking back on her heels, the brunette turned to face the older man. "You do?"

Whispering, Jason said, "I do."

"So, now what," Elizabeth wanted to know, watching him imploringly with her wide open and vulnerable gaze. Swallowing thickly, she forced herself to ask, "you have one night, per Lucky's request… or order, depending upon how you look at it, so what are you going to do with me?"

"Nothing," the mafia man answered succinctly. Reading the confusion marring her face, he expanded. "If we're ever together like that, Elizabeth, if I ever do get to be with you, it's not going to be because some punk ass kid told us to sleep together, and you're certainly not going to be scared, and confused, and upset. If I ever make love to you, it's going to be because you're with me at that point and because we're in love with each other. As for tonight," Jason shrugged, grinning. "We can do anything you want."

"Anything," she asked mischievously, grinning crookedly.

"Despite the fact that I think I just landed myself in a whole world of trouble, yes," the hitman agreed, shaking his head in disbelief. "Anything."

Jumping up and down, the artist clapped her hands together, already running towards the parked bike. "I want to drive your motorcycle."

"Wait, Elizabeth, no," Jason argued, chasing after her. "Anything but that."

But it was too late, and she knew he would give in and allow her to steer the monster of a Harley he cherished so much. She realized then, in that moment, that Jason Morgan really was a man who would do anything for someone he cared about, and, while there were things waiting for her just hours away – confronting her fiancé, ending their engagement, and figuring out what her next step would be, for as long as the night lasted, she was going to enjoy the enforcer's attention and companionship, and, if he would allow her to and she really believed he would, she was going to return his unspoken offer of friendship.

It certainly hadn't been the Halloween night she had been expecting, but it also could have been much worse.