I'm having fun doing little one-shots, even if I always wonder where the ideas came from and whether they make sense. I'm a little stuffed up and
on Sudafed, I'm not sure I'm firing on all cylinders right now.
Prompt: The "La luna del cacciatore" -- The "Hunter's Moon" picture
He had to be around here somewhere. The town was only so large, and she'd been searching for hours. Surely she would find him soon.
Of course, she'd started off looking in the wrong areas first. She assumed that she'd find him in a high-priced hotel bar, or an upscale restaurant, and so had begun searching there first. She'd been wrong. So she widened her searched and begun the downward spiral to mid-level establishments. With no luck there, she went to kitschy diners and Mom and Pop joints. Now she was on the bottom rung of the ladder by visiting full-on dives. Bars that were open despite numerous health code violations and seedy clientele.
She found him in the last place she'd expected, but after what she'd seen and heard today, she wasn't surprised. He was sitting in the corner, a bottle of beer in front of him and a chesty brunette hanging on his arm. He looked bored, but completely blitzed and she knew that there was no way she'd be able to clean him up in time to bring him to the reception they were expected at. It appeared her dear, loving husband had decided to finally abandon all pretense regarding their relationship and decided to leave her holding the bag.
No longer worried for his safety, but fully annoyed, she marched into the bar and walked up to the table. The freckled bimbo looked up and smirked at her and Elizabeth had a strong compulsion to grab the woman by her hair and slam her face into the table. But she wouldn't. She was above such things. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the top of her husband's head, knowing that eventually he wouldn't be able to pretend she wasn't there.
The bimbo broke first. Unnerved by the tension accompanying the silent standoff, she nudged him slightly in the side and said, "Uh, Jason…I think there's someone here for you."
"Tell her to go away," he growled without looking up.
"You heard him," the woman replied, another smirk blooming upon her lips.
Leaning forward, Elizabeth looked straight at the other woman while ostensibly speaking to Jason. "I think you should tell your little plaything to run along, husband dear. You know how my father looks upon infidelity. He always blames the woman. I mean….if he shot his own wife after being assaulted by his lawyer, what do you think he'll do to the likes of her?"
Giving the brunette a disdainful once over she curled her lip and said, "She's cheap and tawdry. Two things Daddy despises. He cut the brake lines on my older sister's car because she showed too much leg and too much cleavage. She's horribly disfigured now and sits in a wheelchair with a blanket over her useless legs."
Jason finally raised his head and glared at her, "Leave her alone, Elizabeth. Anthony isn't going to do anything to her."
"Oh?" she questioned. "Are you sure, Jason? Could you live with yourself is something happened to Miss Chesty over here simply because you stepped out on Anthony Zacharra's daughter?"
"Zacharra?" the bimbo squeaked out. "You didn't tell me you were married to Anthony Zacharra's daughter."
"But he told you he was married?" Elizabeth asked, raising her brow. "And you sat here like a cheap hooker anyway? Now you had definitely better run because my father's men are standing over there in the corner and they'll no doubt report back to him the entirety of our conversation. They have amazing memories and can repeat whole conversations word for word. He may be upset at Jason for making me upset, but make no mistake, he'll blame this situation entirely on you. In your low-cut blouse and your blood-red lips, you're Jezebel and poor Jason just couldn't resist your tawdry seduction."
The woman scooted out of the booth and fled in a barely restrained manner. Elizabeth shook her head to keep Rodolfo from following her. She knew that the bimbo wasn't entirely to blame; Jason had come here and picked the tramp up. While she'd had fun scaring the woman, Elizabeth truly didn't want the other woman to pay for the insanity of her father or the idiocy of her husband.
"You better hope that she leaves town," Elizabeth said, finally turning to look at Jason. "Because my father will be upset. He's in one of his moods and you know what that means. Combined with the fact that we were supposed to head to New York City hours ago to mix and mingle at Ric's wedding and well…it's not going to be pleasant."
"I could care less about Ric's marriage to the senator's daughter," he sneered. "And Anthony needs to realize that I am not some little lapdog that he can command to suit his whims."
"Right," she nodded. "Because you're the great Jason Morgan. Feared enforcer turned mob boss. Men cower before you and don't even think of double-crossing you. You had a great racket going and I'll let you in on a little secret; my father was nervous about your growing power base and knew that there was no way he would be able to go against you."
She licked her lips and lowered her head while lowering her voice, "And then he got the upper hand. He turned the corner just as you were killing Andre Karpov. It's not that the old bastard didn't deserve it, and it's not that I think you should go to jail for it. If it were up to me, I'd give you a medal for doing to the world a great service. But it's not up to me; my father saw this as his way to bring you to your knees."
Jason looked away and brought his beer bottle to his lips. The clenching of his jaw was the only indication that her words were getting to the former mob boss.
"I wish that I hadn't gone to dinner with my father that night," she told him softly, causing his head to whip around and his eyes to go wide with confusion. "If I hadn't been there, what would you have done?"
He remained silent and Elizabeth dropped her shoulders as she dropped into the seat across from her husband. "You would have shot my father, just like you'd shot Karpov. And I wouldn't have cared. Johnny would have taken over, and the organizations would have co-existed like you'd been trying to broker. John might have even made a deal to give you the territories because he doesn't want it. But because I was there, you hesitated, and that was all my father needed to try to crush you. He threatened to call the cops and turn you in unless you did exactly what he said. And that's how we found ourselves standing in front of Father Coates and my father has done his best to break you ever since."
Elizabeth sighed and rested her elbow on the table, then massaged her temple with her fingertips. "I don't want to live like this anymore. You can't stand me because I'm part of the prison my father put you in. I don't care three straws about you aside from the fact that I have to put up with my father's erratic moods because of your insolence. You take off for days and you get to escape the house. Who do you think has to deal with my father while you're off joyriding or boozing it up with cheap hookers?"
Jason looked at her, studying her as if seeing her for the first time.
"That's right," she confirmed. "I'm the one who has to run interference for you; make up stories and excuses for business associates when they come for dinners you're expected to be at; play the dutiful daughter and wife while listening to my father yell and scream obscenities at me and wondering if this will be the day that my father decides to pull out the gun again and shoot me like he did to my mother."
"Does he…does he threaten you?"
"What do you care?" she scoffed. "I've been dealing with Anthony Zacharra longer than you've been Jason Morgan and even knew about the mob. But I'm tired of it, Jason. If you hate my father, then fight him. I'm not asking you to kill him, and I'm not asking you to love me. I'm asking you to step up and be a man. Do something more than sit in a corner booth of a cheap bar and troll for bed buddies. You're supposed to be a man of action, a man of decision; you were feared and now you're a little boy hiding behind my skirts."
She stood and tugged at her jacket, "Stop leaving it to me to clean up your messes. And you better figure out what you're going to say to my father because I intend to check into a hotel, take full advantage of their spa services and not return home until you've dealt with this. I'm done covering your backside and paying for your attitude."
Then without waiting for a response, she turned and walked out of the bar. If that didn't get him kicked into action, she'd just have to try something else.
"Mrs. Morgan."
Elizabeth bristled, and then turned her head towards the man who spoke her name. "Mr. Morgan. What are you doing here?"
"I'm looking for my wife," he smirked, as he approached her chaise lounge and towered over her.
"Well, you've found me," she said, flicking her dainty wrist like she was swatting at a fly. "Now run along because you're blocking my light."
"A woman like you shouldn't be out here trying to tan," he chided her in a mocking tone that set her teeth on edge. "You'll get freckles."
"And here I thought you liked freckles," she mused. "Since you've been seeing an awful lot of them on Miss Chesty's…chest."
He laughed and sat down, completely uninvited. Quite rude of him. "Are you keeping tabs on me, Mrs. Morgan? Are you jealous?"
She turned and looked over the top of her sunglasses at him, "Mr. Morgan, I don't care if you find a bunch of freckled trollops and frolic with them. Of course I have my men report back to me. I need to know what you're doing so I can answer my father's inquiries and summons. Besides, being the poor, cheated-upon wife makes my spa retreats realistic. It keeps me out of the house, away from my father, and keeps his wrath turned on you."
"Your father won't be causing anymore problems," Jason said bluntly. "For either of us."
Appraising him, she asked, "Am I your alibi? What day should I say you arrived at the hotel, looking to salvage our marriage?"
"Your father is alive," he answered. "Barely. He had a heart attack last night in a meeting. When he arrived at the hospital, he went into seizures and they discovered an aneurism in his brain. He nearly bled out on the operating table."
"Were these natural…or aided?"
"All very natural," her husband answered, sounding affronted. "See, you may have thought I was hiding behind your skirts, but I was biding my time. I had someone pilfer your father's medical records and I knew he was a heart attack waiting to happen. It was just a matter of waiting."
"You could have waited a long time," she pointed out.
"Not really. Every time he got angry and shouted, he stressed his heart and the blood vessels. I just hadn't realized he was taking it out on you."
Elizabeth looked at him and scoffed, "Then you clearly didn't do all your homework, Mr. Morgan. It's not exactly a secret that my father lives to torment his children. Who else would he have taken it out on? You certainly weren't around."
"He's been handled," Jason stated definitively. "He won't recover from this."
"Ah," she nodded sagely. "Now you'll aid along his demise. So…how does this work? Are you going to take over the territory, or will you allow Johnny to have it? Will there be deals and concessions the Zacharra family has to make to you in order for us to have the privilege of being safe? When should I expect the divorce papers to arrive?"
"Johnny doesn't want the territory," the man across from her answered. "We've already worked out an agreement; I'll absorb the territory into mine."
"Bully for you," she quipped, pushing her sunglasses back up on her nose and turning her gaze back to the pool.
"Second, there will be no concessions. You'll be safe because you're connected to me. Because there will be no divorce papers."
Elizabeth glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "Annulment papers?"
"There will be no annulment," he refuted.
She turned to look at him, swinging her legs over to rest her feet on the cool tile of the deck. "No annulment, no divorce…you can't possibly mean to stay married. Look, I am not my father. I'm not going to inform the police about Andre Karpov's death. I'd get up and lie on the stand about what I saw. I have no desire to stay married to you, and I'm certainly not going to try to blackmail you with the information. I don't want to stay married."
"You said that twice," he laughed.
"Because it's doubly true! Why in the world would you want to stay married to the daughter of the man you hate, who blackmailed you into marriage, who made your life miserable? Go find Miss Chesty and enjoy your little romps in the flea-infested rooms above that gross, little bar."
"My reasons for wanting to stay married are my own," he said enigmatically. "And just for the record, Mrs. Morgan, I never once broke my marriage vows to you. Miss Chesty was nothing more than a decoy and she worked pretty well, based on the jealous way you spit out her name."
He stood and let his eyes slowly travel over her bikini-clad body. "Enjoy your day at the spa, dear. Will you be coming home on your own tonight, or should I have my men pack up your belongings?"
Then he walked away and Elizabeth was left with the sinking realization that the tables had just been turned on her. It was a feeling she didn't like, and she was determined to get to the bottom of it, and then she'd make Jason Morgan pay for ruining a perfectly good plan.
Prompt: The "La luna del cacciatore" -- The "Hunter's Moon" picture
He had to be around here somewhere. The town was only so large, and she'd been searching for hours. Surely she would find him soon.
Of course, she'd started off looking in the wrong areas first. She assumed that she'd find him in a high-priced hotel bar, or an upscale restaurant, and so had begun searching there first. She'd been wrong. So she widened her searched and begun the downward spiral to mid-level establishments. With no luck there, she went to kitschy diners and Mom and Pop joints. Now she was on the bottom rung of the ladder by visiting full-on dives. Bars that were open despite numerous health code violations and seedy clientele.
She found him in the last place she'd expected, but after what she'd seen and heard today, she wasn't surprised. He was sitting in the corner, a bottle of beer in front of him and a chesty brunette hanging on his arm. He looked bored, but completely blitzed and she knew that there was no way she'd be able to clean him up in time to bring him to the reception they were expected at. It appeared her dear, loving husband had decided to finally abandon all pretense regarding their relationship and decided to leave her holding the bag.
No longer worried for his safety, but fully annoyed, she marched into the bar and walked up to the table. The freckled bimbo looked up and smirked at her and Elizabeth had a strong compulsion to grab the woman by her hair and slam her face into the table. But she wouldn't. She was above such things. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the top of her husband's head, knowing that eventually he wouldn't be able to pretend she wasn't there.
The bimbo broke first. Unnerved by the tension accompanying the silent standoff, she nudged him slightly in the side and said, "Uh, Jason…I think there's someone here for you."
"Tell her to go away," he growled without looking up.
"You heard him," the woman replied, another smirk blooming upon her lips.
Leaning forward, Elizabeth looked straight at the other woman while ostensibly speaking to Jason. "I think you should tell your little plaything to run along, husband dear. You know how my father looks upon infidelity. He always blames the woman. I mean….if he shot his own wife after being assaulted by his lawyer, what do you think he'll do to the likes of her?"
Giving the brunette a disdainful once over she curled her lip and said, "She's cheap and tawdry. Two things Daddy despises. He cut the brake lines on my older sister's car because she showed too much leg and too much cleavage. She's horribly disfigured now and sits in a wheelchair with a blanket over her useless legs."
Jason finally raised his head and glared at her, "Leave her alone, Elizabeth. Anthony isn't going to do anything to her."
"Oh?" she questioned. "Are you sure, Jason? Could you live with yourself is something happened to Miss Chesty over here simply because you stepped out on Anthony Zacharra's daughter?"
"Zacharra?" the bimbo squeaked out. "You didn't tell me you were married to Anthony Zacharra's daughter."
"But he told you he was married?" Elizabeth asked, raising her brow. "And you sat here like a cheap hooker anyway? Now you had definitely better run because my father's men are standing over there in the corner and they'll no doubt report back to him the entirety of our conversation. They have amazing memories and can repeat whole conversations word for word. He may be upset at Jason for making me upset, but make no mistake, he'll blame this situation entirely on you. In your low-cut blouse and your blood-red lips, you're Jezebel and poor Jason just couldn't resist your tawdry seduction."
The woman scooted out of the booth and fled in a barely restrained manner. Elizabeth shook her head to keep Rodolfo from following her. She knew that the bimbo wasn't entirely to blame; Jason had come here and picked the tramp up. While she'd had fun scaring the woman, Elizabeth truly didn't want the other woman to pay for the insanity of her father or the idiocy of her husband.
"You better hope that she leaves town," Elizabeth said, finally turning to look at Jason. "Because my father will be upset. He's in one of his moods and you know what that means. Combined with the fact that we were supposed to head to New York City hours ago to mix and mingle at Ric's wedding and well…it's not going to be pleasant."
"I could care less about Ric's marriage to the senator's daughter," he sneered. "And Anthony needs to realize that I am not some little lapdog that he can command to suit his whims."
"Right," she nodded. "Because you're the great Jason Morgan. Feared enforcer turned mob boss. Men cower before you and don't even think of double-crossing you. You had a great racket going and I'll let you in on a little secret; my father was nervous about your growing power base and knew that there was no way he would be able to go against you."
She licked her lips and lowered her head while lowering her voice, "And then he got the upper hand. He turned the corner just as you were killing Andre Karpov. It's not that the old bastard didn't deserve it, and it's not that I think you should go to jail for it. If it were up to me, I'd give you a medal for doing to the world a great service. But it's not up to me; my father saw this as his way to bring you to your knees."
Jason looked away and brought his beer bottle to his lips. The clenching of his jaw was the only indication that her words were getting to the former mob boss.
"I wish that I hadn't gone to dinner with my father that night," she told him softly, causing his head to whip around and his eyes to go wide with confusion. "If I hadn't been there, what would you have done?"
He remained silent and Elizabeth dropped her shoulders as she dropped into the seat across from her husband. "You would have shot my father, just like you'd shot Karpov. And I wouldn't have cared. Johnny would have taken over, and the organizations would have co-existed like you'd been trying to broker. John might have even made a deal to give you the territories because he doesn't want it. But because I was there, you hesitated, and that was all my father needed to try to crush you. He threatened to call the cops and turn you in unless you did exactly what he said. And that's how we found ourselves standing in front of Father Coates and my father has done his best to break you ever since."
Elizabeth sighed and rested her elbow on the table, then massaged her temple with her fingertips. "I don't want to live like this anymore. You can't stand me because I'm part of the prison my father put you in. I don't care three straws about you aside from the fact that I have to put up with my father's erratic moods because of your insolence. You take off for days and you get to escape the house. Who do you think has to deal with my father while you're off joyriding or boozing it up with cheap hookers?"
Jason looked at her, studying her as if seeing her for the first time.
"That's right," she confirmed. "I'm the one who has to run interference for you; make up stories and excuses for business associates when they come for dinners you're expected to be at; play the dutiful daughter and wife while listening to my father yell and scream obscenities at me and wondering if this will be the day that my father decides to pull out the gun again and shoot me like he did to my mother."
"Does he…does he threaten you?"
"What do you care?" she scoffed. "I've been dealing with Anthony Zacharra longer than you've been Jason Morgan and even knew about the mob. But I'm tired of it, Jason. If you hate my father, then fight him. I'm not asking you to kill him, and I'm not asking you to love me. I'm asking you to step up and be a man. Do something more than sit in a corner booth of a cheap bar and troll for bed buddies. You're supposed to be a man of action, a man of decision; you were feared and now you're a little boy hiding behind my skirts."
She stood and tugged at her jacket, "Stop leaving it to me to clean up your messes. And you better figure out what you're going to say to my father because I intend to check into a hotel, take full advantage of their spa services and not return home until you've dealt with this. I'm done covering your backside and paying for your attitude."
Then without waiting for a response, she turned and walked out of the bar. If that didn't get him kicked into action, she'd just have to try something else.
~*~*~
"Mrs. Morgan."
Elizabeth bristled, and then turned her head towards the man who spoke her name. "Mr. Morgan. What are you doing here?"
"I'm looking for my wife," he smirked, as he approached her chaise lounge and towered over her.
"Well, you've found me," she said, flicking her dainty wrist like she was swatting at a fly. "Now run along because you're blocking my light."
"A woman like you shouldn't be out here trying to tan," he chided her in a mocking tone that set her teeth on edge. "You'll get freckles."
"And here I thought you liked freckles," she mused. "Since you've been seeing an awful lot of them on Miss Chesty's…chest."
He laughed and sat down, completely uninvited. Quite rude of him. "Are you keeping tabs on me, Mrs. Morgan? Are you jealous?"
She turned and looked over the top of her sunglasses at him, "Mr. Morgan, I don't care if you find a bunch of freckled trollops and frolic with them. Of course I have my men report back to me. I need to know what you're doing so I can answer my father's inquiries and summons. Besides, being the poor, cheated-upon wife makes my spa retreats realistic. It keeps me out of the house, away from my father, and keeps his wrath turned on you."
"Your father won't be causing anymore problems," Jason said bluntly. "For either of us."
Appraising him, she asked, "Am I your alibi? What day should I say you arrived at the hotel, looking to salvage our marriage?"
"Your father is alive," he answered. "Barely. He had a heart attack last night in a meeting. When he arrived at the hospital, he went into seizures and they discovered an aneurism in his brain. He nearly bled out on the operating table."
"Were these natural…or aided?"
"All very natural," her husband answered, sounding affronted. "See, you may have thought I was hiding behind your skirts, but I was biding my time. I had someone pilfer your father's medical records and I knew he was a heart attack waiting to happen. It was just a matter of waiting."
"You could have waited a long time," she pointed out.
"Not really. Every time he got angry and shouted, he stressed his heart and the blood vessels. I just hadn't realized he was taking it out on you."
Elizabeth looked at him and scoffed, "Then you clearly didn't do all your homework, Mr. Morgan. It's not exactly a secret that my father lives to torment his children. Who else would he have taken it out on? You certainly weren't around."
"He's been handled," Jason stated definitively. "He won't recover from this."
"Ah," she nodded sagely. "Now you'll aid along his demise. So…how does this work? Are you going to take over the territory, or will you allow Johnny to have it? Will there be deals and concessions the Zacharra family has to make to you in order for us to have the privilege of being safe? When should I expect the divorce papers to arrive?"
"Johnny doesn't want the territory," the man across from her answered. "We've already worked out an agreement; I'll absorb the territory into mine."
"Bully for you," she quipped, pushing her sunglasses back up on her nose and turning her gaze back to the pool.
"Second, there will be no concessions. You'll be safe because you're connected to me. Because there will be no divorce papers."
Elizabeth glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "Annulment papers?"
"There will be no annulment," he refuted.
She turned to look at him, swinging her legs over to rest her feet on the cool tile of the deck. "No annulment, no divorce…you can't possibly mean to stay married. Look, I am not my father. I'm not going to inform the police about Andre Karpov's death. I'd get up and lie on the stand about what I saw. I have no desire to stay married to you, and I'm certainly not going to try to blackmail you with the information. I don't want to stay married."
"You said that twice," he laughed.
"Because it's doubly true! Why in the world would you want to stay married to the daughter of the man you hate, who blackmailed you into marriage, who made your life miserable? Go find Miss Chesty and enjoy your little romps in the flea-infested rooms above that gross, little bar."
"My reasons for wanting to stay married are my own," he said enigmatically. "And just for the record, Mrs. Morgan, I never once broke my marriage vows to you. Miss Chesty was nothing more than a decoy and she worked pretty well, based on the jealous way you spit out her name."
He stood and let his eyes slowly travel over her bikini-clad body. "Enjoy your day at the spa, dear. Will you be coming home on your own tonight, or should I have my men pack up your belongings?"
Then he walked away and Elizabeth was left with the sinking realization that the tables had just been turned on her. It was a feeling she didn't like, and she was determined to get to the bottom of it, and then she'd make Jason Morgan pay for ruining a perfectly good plan.
for this one and everything Jules said too!!!
