A/N: OMG! I thought I was done posting Port Charles fanfic, but look what I found! Actually, I wrote this probably four or five years ago, but I never posted it because it wasn't quite done. Well long story short, I found this old story, and my muse got inspired to finish it. I'm not sure if anyone is still reading here, but this story just seems so lonely on my computer. I think it would be very sad if I never posted it, considering it's finished and all. :)
This takes place a few years after my last story "Changes", and it stars my very favorite character that I made up…Katrina! (Who is still, by the way, the cutest fictional kid on the planet!)
By the way...I own nothing! If I did, Port Charles would still be on the air!
Jamal could feel her eyes piercing his back. It was hard to concentrate. Within a few short seconds, all of his knowledge of motorcycle repair had apparently gone out the window…all because this child wouldn't stop staring at him!
Jamal looked over his shoulder, wondering what she was doing. She continued to sit there, staring at him. Her eyes quickly averted back to the chapter book in front of her.
It was like looking at a miniature version of Alison. Yeah, she'd definitely break some hearts in about ten years.
Jamal turned away, only to turn back to her two seconds later to see if she was still watching him.
Jamal returned to his work, knowing she was about to interrupt him…again.
"Please!" Katrina begged, breaking the silence that had gone on for too long.
"For the last time, NO!"
"Aww, come on, Uncle J!" she whined. She hopped out of her seat and walked over to him, tugging at his shirt.
"I said no."
"Because you're eight! All right? And eight-year-olds don't need to be on the back of a motorcycle!"
"I'm eight and a half! That's practically already nine! I'm almost a preteen really!"
"All right, I tell you what. I will take you for a ride on my bike…"
Katrina's eyes lit up.
"…when you're twenty-five," Jamal added.
"Aww! Uncle J! Come on! I'll be really good. I won't do something stupid or anything. I promise to hold on really take me for a little ride! Just once! Please?"
"Girl, how many times do I gotta say no before you finally understand?"
Katrina sat down in her chair and pouted. It wasn't fair!
Jamal went back to work. Yeah, he knew she was mad. But she'd get over it.
"Did you know I'm a championship jumper? I won a ribbon at last year's horse show! A horse, Uncle J! If I can ride a horse, I can ride a motorcycle!"
"Horses don't go 50 mph! Look, for the last time, I'm not taking you on my bike! Okay? Your mom would kill me if she knew I let you ride on the motorcycle."
"Well then don't tell her," she said with a wicked grin.
"She'd find out. Believe me."
"You know, I don't know why you're making such a big deal about this. Mom wouldn't care. You used to take her for motorcycle rides all the time and she loved it."
Jamal looked over Katrina. It was obvious she wasn't giving up so easily. "She told you that?"
"Mom tells me lots of things. Now tell me, if my own mother of all people doesn't have a problem with riding a motorcycle, then why would it bother her if I tried it?" Katrina got up and walked over to Jamal. She gave him puppy dog eyes. "Please? I'll never bother you about it again. I just want to see what it's like."
"Your mother will be here soon."
"No she won't. She took my brother to the doctor. Doctors always make you wait. Come on, Uncle J. Please? You don't even have to get me a birthday present if you'll let me do this!"
"You're not going to stop bugging me until I say yes, are you?"
Katrina grinned. She had him right where she wanted him. "Nope."
"All right, fine!" he gave in. Anything to shut her up for two seconds. It wasn't like he was going to get any work done with these interruptions anyway.
"YAY!" Katrina shouted. "This is going to be so much fun! You're the best Uncle J!" She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly.
"Hold on! Before we go, we're going to establish some ground rules. Okay?"
"Number one, you wear a helmet. I know your dad makes you wear a helmet when you ride your bike and you hate it, but that's too bad. You have to wear a helmet on a motorcycle."
"Okay, no problem! Now let's go!"
"Hold up, hold up! I'm not finished yet. Rule number two, you don't tell ANYONE! Got it? Not your mom, not your dad, not all of your little friends…no one! But especially your mom. No wait, especially your dad. No, especially your mom. Okay look, just don't tell them!"
"I won't tell anyone, I promise! Cross my heart!"
"Okay, number three. This is the first and last time I take you out on the bike. You understand? And we'll go to the end of the road and back. No further. And just once. Next time I baby-sit you, I don't want to hear, 'Uncle J! Uncle J!, take me for a ride!' It's just this one and only time!"
"Okay, okay, I got it. Now can we go now?" Katrina grabbed a helmet and began putting it on.
"Yeah. Let's get this over with before you mom comes back."
"That was so much fun!" Katrina said as they walked back into the bike shop ten minutes later.
"Now remember, don't you…"
"Tell a soul! I won't! I promise! Wow, I never knew they could go so fast! That was fun!"
"What was fun?" Alison asked with a smile as she and Gabe walked into the bike shop.
"Um…" Katrina stammered, hiding the helmet behind her back.
"Oh, uh, I was just showing Lil' Spunky here some things on the arcade games over at the Recovery Room," Jamal said, quickly thinking on his feet. "We just got back."
Alison smiled. "Well, sounds like you two had a great time."
"Yeah, me and Lil' Spunky always have a blast."
As Alison and Jamal chatted, Gabe walked over to his sister, wondering what the black, shiny object she was holding behind her back was.
"Gabe, no," Katrina whispered.
Gabe ignored her, grabbing the helmet and putting it over his own head. He giggled.
Alison looked over Jamal's shoulder, wondering what Gabe was getting in to. "Gabe, don't mess with Jamal's stuff, alright? Let's just put this back." Alison took the helmet from Gabe and set it on the counter.
"Katrina's playing with it too!" Gabe said.
It was then that Alison realized what was going on. It was so obvious.
Katrina's hair was disheveled, obviously from wearing a helmet. And hadn't Jamal been holding a helmet just as she walked in? The story about the arcade games at the Recovery Room suddenly made no sense at all when she knew good and well Jamal didn't need to ride his bike over to a place that was in walking distance!
"You took her out on the bike, didn't you?" Alison snapped.
"What? What are you talking about?"
"Don't lie to me, Jamal. Katrina begged you to take her for a ride on the bike and you took her, didn't you?"
"I…well…yeah," he admitted.
"Oh, Mommy, please don't be mad at Uncle J! It was all my idea. I made him. Please don't be mad!" Katrina looked up at her mother with pleading eyes.
Alison looked at her daughter, than at Jamal, then to Katrina again. "Alright, I won't be mad. But don't you dare let it happen again," she warned Jamal.
"Won't happen again. Promise."
Alison gave him a smile. "You should be glad I'm not Rafe. He wouldn't have been so forgiving."
Thanks for reading! :)