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Gia and Nikolas Headquarters
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Chapter 8 The week of Thanksgiving sped by in a flurry of activity for the citizens of Port Charles, including Nikolas and Gia. Although Gia devoted most of the holiday to cooking up a respectable Thanksgiving dinner with all the trimmings, in the end she chose to join her mother and brother at Bobbie Spencer’s house. Meanwhile, Nikolas played host to his brother, Liz and Juan while Emily, although expected, never showed. With Helena out of town, everyone seemed to breathe a little easier even though Nikolas knew it was a matter of time before his grandmother made her next move. With Helena, there was always a next move but he kept his fears mostly to himself, discussing them once only with Lucky. As Nikolas expected, Lucky questioned the wisdom of having Gia remain a tenant at the cottage. He didn’t press the issue however wanting, as much as his brother did, to enjoy the holiday and pretend, at least for a day, that their lives were normal. “I trust you know what you’re doing,” was all he said to Nikolas and didn’t mention the incident again. Gia kept herself busy with her new job, learning the basic duties required of her during the short work-week before Thanksgiving and keeping rather late hours at Wyndham’s. Aside from a short discussion regarding the choice of code for the new alarm system at the cottage, she and Nikolas did not refer to the break-in again. On the surface, Gia presented a sunny, carefree attitude and was satisfied that Nikolas was convinced she was not worried about the recent events and his dire warnings regarding Helena. But at night, alone in her bedroom she battled her anxiety for Nikolas’ safety at the same time tap-dancing around deepening feelings for him. Her growing attachment to him scared her and anyone who knew her would’ve been surprised to learn that she actually felt a little intimidated by him. She could strut around, radiating confidence with the best of them, but this man had her thinking things she’d never considered before, feeling things that left her yearning for something she couldn’t name. So she stayed late at her job, sought her brother’s and mother’s company instead of Nikolas’ and his friends’ and tried to buy herself some time to sort it all out. With Thanksgiving dinner cleared and coffee and niceties at Bobbie’s house disposed of, Gia rose to her feet, bid everyone good-night and accepted her brother’s offer for a ride home. Fortunately, Hannah didn’t go along for the ride and Gia was glad for the quiet drive to the cottage with only her brother for company. “You’re unusually quiet,” Marcus remarked, taking a turn a little too much like a cop for Gia’s liking. “Is there a special school all policemen have to go to so they could learn how to drive like lunatics?” She asked, breaking her silence and making her brother wish he hadn’t said anything. Even so, he laughed as he answered. “Yep.” He tried again, “So, what’s up? Is something bothering you?” Gia answered with a question of her own. “Are you in love with Hannah, Marcus?” He glanced at her, surprised, but answered her with characteristic promptness and honesty. “No. I don’t think I’m in love yet. Right now, we’re still getting to know each other and there are some problems to overcome if love is ever going to enter the equation.” “A.J. Quartermaine problems?” Gia startled her brother with her pin-point accuracy and frankness. “That’s one,” he said, “but not the way you mean. It’s complicated. I mean, I don’t believe that two people have to agree on everything in order for them to have a good relationship, even a romantic relationship. But there are certain differences of opinion that carry more weight than others. Hannah is a good person and very sympathetic to other people’s problems but…” “But what?” Gia asked. “Look, we’re here and this conversation is for another time. Why the sudden interest in my love-life anyway?” Gia thought about her own confused feelings for the man she shared a home with but she wasn’t about to voice them just yet. “I care about you, that’s all, and we haven’t talked about you and Hannah much.” “That’s ‘cause the conversation usually deteriorates when you start calling her names,” he scolded mildly. Gia chose to ignore that one for now. “I had a nice holiday, Marcus. I love you.” Gia leaned over and gave her brother a kiss on the cheek and smiled as she opened the car door. “Good-night.” “Good-night, baby sister,” he answered with a smile of his own and watched as she let herself in her house. He saw the light in the living room come on and thought about her living arrangements. Personally, he liked Nikolas Cassadine but the boy’s family made his head hurt as much as Luke Spencer and Sonny Corinthos ever did. Troublesome people with access to way too many resources and even more money, Taggart thought and shook his head as he put the car in gear. His sister was smart but she was still young and very beautiful; he didn’t think he was being biased in thinking so and would bet money that little piece of information hadn’t escaped young Mr. Cassadine. He trusted her instincts, though, despite their mother’s objections. He’d been less than amused to learn from Florence that Helena Cassadine had been working overtime to ingratiate herself to his mother and use every opportunity available to downgrade her grandson. All kinds of red flags had gone up in Taggart’s mind when his mother informed him of her conversations with Helena. He’d been quick to warn her that Helena was a person worthy of not one iota of trust. Florence had listened closely to him and said little but he’d had no doubt he’d impressed upon her what a treacherous person Helena was. He was also well aware that the information he provided did little to ease Florence’s unease but Taggart had every intention of keeping a close eye on the Cassadines, especially while his sister resided at the cottage. Gia had her foot on the first step on her way up to her bedroom when Nikolas spoke from his place on the sofa. “Hey, you’re home.” “Oh, hi,” she answered. “I didn’t see you there. What are you doing in the dark? Waiting up for me?” “Yes, no, yes,” he stammered, very un-Nikolas-like, but recovered quickly. “Nothing, just relaxing. Everybody left a little while ago and I’m sitting here trying to digest all your food. It was wonderful, by the way, thank you. How was it at Bobbie’s?” “Very nice,” she answered taking a step or two toward him. “The food was great, the house was all festive and warm. Bobbie seems like a very nice woman.” Nikolas stood as he spoke. “She is. Are you going to bed?” “Yeah,” Gia answered and turned for the stairs again, Nikolas following. “I have to be in the office early tomorrow and help plan our department’s holiday party. I’m pretty beat too.” They walked up the stairs in silence and turned toward each other outside Gia’s room. “Well,” she said. “Good-night.” “Wait, there’s something of yours in my room,” Nikolas said cryptically and disappeared into his bedroom. He was back quickly, the rubber ducky in his hand, an amused smile on his lips. “Here, I thought you might miss this.” Gia felt her cheeks grow hot and avoided looking at his face as she reached out to retrieve the little toy. Covering her embarassment, she quipped, “Thanks, you can borrow him anytime, though. I have a feeling Prince Nikolas never had a rubber ducky when he was little.” “As a matter of fact, he didn’t,” he returned. “I was bathed in very ceremonious fashion, at least three servants in attendance and much fan-fare and bally-hoo but never a rubber ducky.” Gia flashed him a smile and he watched her warmly, thinking he’d never seen a more beautiful face in all his life. “Good-night, oh Prince,” she said and walked into her room. “Good-night, Gia. And happy Thanksgiving.” Nikolas didn’t even know what shocked him awake but he hit the floor running and was in the hallway when Gia’s scream reached him again. In seconds he was in her room and next to her bed where she sat up still screaming, her eyes wide open but unseeing, the bedcovers clutched in her hands. “Gia,” he called her name and sat on the bed beside her. Her eyes began to focus on him while he watched the terror reflected there subside in inches. “Gia,” he said again, “it’s okay. I’m here, it’s okay.” “Oh, my god,” she breathed. “Oh, wow that was horrible.” She brought the covers up close to her chest, dropping her head as she attempted a deep but shaky breath. Nikolas looked around the room, his gaze going first to the windows which he determined were closed. He turned the bedside table lamp on and assessed the room in the dim light. Nothing seemed out of place and he waited for Gia to regain her composure. “I’m all right, now,” she said as though reading his thoughts. “It was a dream, nothing else.” “A nightmare, wouldn’t you say,” he answered. “What were you dreaming?” “Oh, it’s the same always,” Gia answered not realizing what she’d just revealed. “There’s the car, your car, and the lights are on. I go out to turn them off and that’s when I see the two men walking the dogs. When I ask them to get off the property, they set the dogs on me and suddenly the dogs are wolves and they’re attacking me and I just make it to your car and I’m trying to open the door but it’s locked and the yellow eyes are all I see and I start screaming…” “You’ve had this nightmare before?” Nikolas asked her. “Should I even ask when it began?” Gia looked at Nikolas and hesitated but knew it was too late to backtrack now. “It started after the night that guy broke into the house. It’s normal I guess, to have nightmares, considering? It’s no big deal.” But Nikolas could see she was shaking and he covered her icy hands with his own warm ones, rubbing her slim fingers gently. “Can I get you something, some water maybe?” He asked. “No, I’m okay, really. Could you stay for a minute, though,” she whispered, inwardly chiding herself for her weakness. “If you don’t mind, I mean. You know how dreams are, they kind of linger and...” “Yes, of course, I’ll stay. Just lay back and I’ll be here until you fall asleep” he answered and released her hands in order to turn off the light. With the effects of the nightmare lifted somewhat, Gia noticed he was dressed in pajama bottoms and nothing else. The moonlight coming through the window cast dark shadows on his handsome face as he bent over the lamp and his expression was unreadable. He turned back to her and motioned for her to lay back in bed. She did so, her glance falling again on his chest and the Cassadine medallion hanging there from a gold chain around his neck. “You wear this even to bed?” She asked her hand reaching up to touch the gold, sculpted disc. Nikolas’ breath caught in his throat at the unexpected contact of her still cool fingers against his chest. She lifted the medallion in her hand studying it from beneath her long lashes and he swallowed once before answering. “Yes,” his voice was low and deep suddenly very aware of her proximity and the intimacy of their situation. “I wear it always.” Her fingers let go of the gold piece and she settled more comfortably on her pillow. “I feel like I’ve run a marathon,” she remarked and closed her eyes. Nikolas said nothing and waited for her to fall asleep and for his heart to regain its normal pace. In time he heard her breath come in a steady rhythm but as he moved to come off the bed, she shifted a little and her hand came up off the covers as if seeking his own. He took it and felt her relax again. “Sleep well, Gia,” he said so softly he doubted she heard him. Across town, Helena lay on the silk, embroidered pillows strewn in artful disarray on her bed. The yacht swayed, gently rocking its inhabitants and Helena tapped a blood red nail on her bottom lip, deep in thought. “Andreas!” She called suddenly, her shrill voice cutting through the scented, candle-lit room. “Andreas, I need you.” The servant entered his mistress’ cabin almost instantly. “Yes, madam,” he said. “Please, my darling,” Helena uttered through one of her purrs, stretching long, slim legs out from under a black, lace-edged nightgown. “My legs feel like parchment paper and I need your ministration. And do use Mr. Stevenson’s lotion, the one from his London pharmacy. Whatever in the world possessed you to purchase this nonsense?” She asked indicating a bottle of lotion resting on a marble topped table by her bed. “For heaven’s sake, it smells like old socks.” Secretly, Andreas wondered when Helena could possibly have come within smelling distance of old socks, but aloud he used his best submissive tone. “Yes, madam, old socks. I will remove it immediately.” Head bowed, he took took the offending lotion out of the room and returned with the one she’d requested. He set about the business of rubbing the dry skin on Helena’s legs using, he thought, enough lotion to smooth even an elephant’s hide. If he did his job leisurely enough, the old battle-axe would be asleep before he got to the second leg, he hoped, and would leave him be for the night. But Helena was very much awake and scheming. “Nikolas is still under the impression I attended the countess’ wedding. It was disappointing, to say the least, to find the Ms Campbell is still firmly ensonced in my grandson’s home despite my efforts to warn the chit off.” Andreas concentrated his efforts on the arch of Helena’s left foot but listened to every word. “It’s no matter, Ms Campbell’s living arrangements will be of no consequence soon enough,” the woman continued. “What do you mean, madam,” Andreas asked, wondering what horrific plan she’d hatched now. “Why, my dear, Nikolas’s refusal to exercise good sense of late is enough evidence the boy has come quite undone by his poor uncle’s untimely demise. As his loving grandmother and guardian of his heritage and fortune, it falls to me to see to it that he is properly looked after.” Helena looked at her reflection in the mirror opposite her bed and her lips curved in a reptilian smile. “I have an institution in mind, the papers are drawn up and ready to be signed.” “But, madam,” Andreas protested mildly, careful not to upset the monster whose skin he rubbed so skillfully. “Master Nikolas has done nothing so alarming by this state’s standards, as far as I know.” “Oh, but he will, my love,” Helena’s answer was as cryptic as it was bone-chillingly scary. “A week from Saturday, my darling grandson will attend the dedication at the New York City Library. He’s always shared my lesser son’s strange fascination with musty old books. The event doubles as a fund-raiser, as you know and will be lousy with influential sorts and, more importantly, the press. After Nikolas’ unsavory behavior during the course of the evening, there will be no doubt my plans for him are for his own good and absolutely necessary.” “And you can languish in all the sympathy and support that will surely be lavished on you in the aftermath,” Andreas completed his mistress’ train of thought. Helena favored the man with a smile that left little doubt as to what was next on her mind and she opened her arms, motioning for him to embrace her. “Mmm, my dear,” she whispered, pulling his head down for a kiss, “you are a treasure.”
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