Prompt #70."You know, you're very sensitive for a cold blooded killer" – Samantha Barzel, The Mexican
It was official.
She was a horrible wife, and she was going to be a horrible mother, too.
Since the day she and Jason had met outside of GH, he had never asked her for anything. It was always Elizabeth either foisting herself upon him – like showing up at his room to treat his wounds uninvited – or Elizabeth needing favors from him because of her condition.
Jason, could you please change the lightbulb in my room, so I don't have to stand on a step stool, fall, and have a miscarriage? Jason, would you clean off my car for me before I leave for work, so I don't slip on the ice, fall, and have a miscarriage? Jason, would you...; Jason, would you...; Jason, would you...?And he did it all without complaint, seemingly without notice of how quickly she was coming to depend upon him being in her life for the little things.
So, when Jasonfinally asked her for something, she latched onto the favor with both hands. Sure, he could have some friends over. Suddenly, it didn't matter that it was his first night home from the hospital, and she had really been looking forward to resuming their seemingly innocuous yet still important evening rituals of having dinner together and then sitting quietly in the living room with one another before retiring hours later to their respective rooms. So what if, contrary to Jason's promise after their quickie wedding ceremony, he had yet to kiss her; so what if, in fact, he had been more introspective, more distant than ever before in their relationship. If Jason wanted to have company over at their house, then she would do everything within her power to make him and his friends feel comfortable and welcome.
And that was why Elizabeth Webber – no, ElizabethMorgan currently found herself in the middle of the disaster zone otherwise known as her kitchen. She should have known better than to attempt something from scratch for her first foray into cooking, especially when they were having guests that evening. It was just... well, not only were they having guests over, but it was Jason's first night home from the hospital, and what said concern and care better than homemade chicken noodle soup? And, really, when she had first looked at the recipe... okay, the pictures that went along with the recipe, the whole thing had seemed relatively easy. Make some long worms out of what looked to be pale Play-dough, cook some chicken, cut up some vegetables, make some broth, toss everything together into a big kettle, and voila... only voila turned into 'uh... I don't think that's supposed to happen,' and 'uh... I don't think that's supposed to happen' turned into 'oh, shit.' And then she had a panic attack.
There was flour... everywhere – on the floor, on her, even on the ceiling. How she had managed that one, Elizabeth still wasn't sure. The chicken looked like it was cooked over a landmine and not her stove's gas flame, she had spilled the broth... which had just tasted like water... all over the floor, and, in the confusion of everything else going to hell, Elizabeth had even burned her brownies – the one thing she was actually capable of making. Usually. To top it all off, she had cut herself while trying to chop carrots. With a dishtowel wrapped around her left hand, she knew she looked a mess – probably like a lunatic ghost, but she just couldn't scrounge up the gumption to stand up, dust herself off, and try again.
Like she said, she was a failure.
While Elizabeth was planning on just hiding out in the kitchen for the rest of the evening – pouting and stewing over her ruined... well, stew, Jason, apparently, had other plans, because, before she could pick herself up off the floor – really, why she thought it was a good idea to sit on the floor when she was nearly six months pregnant, Elizabeth had no idea – he was there. In the beside her. Scowling.
And then she started to cry.
Without waiting for an explanationand ignoring the doctor's orders to not bend down and certainly not to lift anything heavy... and, for a woman who two months prior had not even been showing yet, she was certainly porking on the weight, Jason helped her to her feet. Immediately, he started to fuss about her, his actions proving out of character enough to shock Elizabeth out of her crying jag.
"I'm sorry," she said miserably while, at the same time, luxuriating under his touch.
"For what," Jason murmured, sounding distracted by the attention he was paying her. He was using his thumbs to dry her tear tracks, running his knuckles over her cheeks to wipe away the traces of flour which resided there, and using his long, capable fingers to smooth her hair back. And, while he worked, Elizabeth realized that his eyes were locked upon her mouth, a mouth that she suddenly noticed had gone dry with nervous anticipation.
"I, uh, I ruined your dinner," she explained, nibbling on her bottom lip before anxiously swiping her tongue over the tortured flesh to sooth the sting. "Your party."
"My what?" In his confusion, for the first time since entering the kitchen, Jason met her searching gaze.
"You know, your welcome home party... the one you asked me if I minded you have?" When he still continued to stare at her in confusion, Elizabeth rolled her eyes despite the slight smidgeon of doubt which entered her mind. Hehad asked her if he could have some people over, hadn't he? Maybe he had said parrots instead... only Jason didn't seem like the pet bird kind of guy, and didn't birds carry a lot of diseases?
The slight touch of Jason's hand upon her chin and the way he said her name, "Elizabeth?," like he was asking her for more than just clarification brought her back to the moment, and she shook her head slightly to clear it of the unnecessary clutter of her rambling thoughts.
"A few days ago... in the hospital, you asked me if you could have some people over tonight?" Before he could respond, she rushed to add, "and, Jason, just so you know, you don't have to ask me about things like that. This is your house, too."
"Yeah, well, you never have people over, and Johnny and Francis aren't... they're not the type of guys you usually spend time with."
"I've had my Grams over a few times."
"Elizabeth," Jason tipped his head down and looked at her purposefully. "Audrey's your grandmother."
She continued to protest. "And how do you know what kind of men I spend time with, huh?" When his eyes narrowed, she verbally started to backtrack. "I mean, I know they work for Sonny Corinthos... and not as boxers, but they're your friends, and they've always been nice to me. They brought me flowers."
"I know." The two words were gritted out through Jason's teeth like they pained him to even think about, let alone say out loud and admit. For a moment, Elizabeth found herself wondering whatthat was all about, but then Jason was talking once again, and her curiosity fluttered away as she focused upon their conversation. "My point is that I didn't want you to feel uncomfortable. And it's not a party."
"But you still have to eat." He grumbled dismissively under his breath. "Jason, you just got out of the hospital. You're recovering from major surgery. The only reason the doctors allowed you leave this early is because I'm training to be a nurse, and you have to be the most unpleasant, uncooperative, surly man in the history of bad patients. Whether you like it or not, I'm going to make sure that you eat – and healthy, too, and I'm sure it wouldn't hurt either Johnny or Francis to have a home cooked meal once in a while. They probably eat fast food or junk – cookies, chips, candy bars – when they actually have a chance to grab something, and nobody – certainly not two active uh... security personnel such they are can survive on garbage for that long. More importantly, though, they're coming to our home, and I refuse to be a bad..."
The last of her words were consumed by Jason's mouth. With only a desperate growl to warn her of his intentions, he dropped one of his arms to wrap around her waist and pulled her close, while the other molded itself to her jaw, tilting her face upwards to meet his seeking lips. And meet them did she ever! Gratefully, Elizabeth returned his embrace, and greedily she encouraged it, unmindful of those injuries she had just been lecturing Jason about. Without conscious thought, her mouth blossomed open under his, and she welcomed Jason's tongue with a faint flick of her own, her arms eventually lifting to wrap around his neck to both move them into more intimate contact and to help keep herself and her now shaky knees steady. All Elizabeth could think about wasmore. She wanted him closer. Faster. Harder.
And then the doorbell rang.
This time, when Jason made a sound in the back of his throat, it was a groan of protest, but, still, he pulled away from her. Breathing heavily, he whispered, "I don't expect you to cook for me or my friends, but, when you do cook, it better be for me and only me and because youwant to."
In that moment, for the first time in her life, Elizabeth realized what it would be like to be possessed by another person – not because they took her but because she gladly would give herself to them. It was a pleasant feeling, one that made her smile, made her heart beat faster and expand within her chest, and made her stomach feel like it was a butterfly garden.
"Come on," Jason told her, slipping one of her small, much daintier hands inside of one of his own. As he steered them out of the kitchen and into the living room, she blushed at the knowledge that her hand was swallowed by Jason's embrace. He was just so... big. "There are two people I want you to meet."
The next few minutes were a whirlwind. Jason went to the door and let in their guests, all four of them talking at once as they entered while depositing boxes of pizza and six packs of various kinds of beer onto the dining room table. Johnny and Francis greeted her casually, and she returned the sentiments, though only half-heartedly. Most of her attention was focused upon Jason –her husband – and the two people in the room she didn't know: a man and a woman a few years older than she was and obviously a couple who had been together for quite some time. They just seemed so... natural with each other, and she found herself wanting to experience that kind of connection with someone someday and wondering if perhaps – just maybe – she and Jason could be like that, too.
As they all sat down at the table – paper plates quickly being filled with pizza, Jason started introductions. "Elizabeth, you already know Francis and Johnny."
She tipped her head towards the two guards, acknowledging them with a slight smirk and a cheeky, "Mr. Donovan; my maid-of-honor," respectively. Johnny playfully narrowed his eyes at her;Francis chuckled, sliding a bottle of non-alcoholic beer in her direction... almost as if it were her reward for picking on his friend.
"And this," Jason continued, gesturing towards the new additions to their small group, "is FBI Special Agent Jagger and Doctor Karen Cates."
"Thank you for welcoming us into your home," Doctor Karen Cates said to Elizabeth with a small but genuine smile. "I also hear that you're newlyweds, so congratulations. So, as a little present from us to you..." With that, the older woman handed Elizabeth a piece of folded paper, quickly determined to be a restraining order against her ex once she unfolded it. "Did I forget to mention that I'm also the District Attorney, Scott Baldwin's, daughter?" With a wicked twinkle in her eye, Karen added, "my bad."
And Elizabeth sat back in her chair, speechless.