Everything You Are by Bennight30(Seq to Illusions)

[JRK Archiver]

Everything You Are is the sequel to Illusions. Please read that story before reading this one.


Authors Note: Hey all! I'm glad that so many of you liked Illusions! Here's the next part of the story. Just a few things to tell you about. This section will be mostly just some fun, some angst, and of course.....the infamous GQ fights---LOL. Everyone that was mentioned in the last part will be in here as well. And you will find out who the mysterious partner is that helped Tom Wheldon. I hope you all enjoy!

[JRK Archiver]

Chapter 1

“Skye just called. She won’t be able to go shopping with us this weekend.” Emily announced as she walked into the foyer, carrying a large tray that was loaded with fruit, cookies and a large pitcher of ice tea. She sat the tray down, before moving to sit beside her mother.

“Oh? Did she say why not?” Monica asked as she poured herself a tall glass of tea.

“Something about Luke and rats fleeing a sinking ship.” Emily shrugged as she accepted a glass from Monica.

“She probably said that Luke was the rat fleeing that sinking tub.” Tracey groused as she filled a small plate with some mixed fruit and a couple of cookies.

Emily started to say something, when they all heard a loud crash come from the upstairs. They turned to look at one another, each quietly sipping their tea, in an unspoken mutual agreement.

Nobody wanted to ask and no-one wanted to know.

“So, how much longer till Georgie gets back?” Emily asked.

“Six days, twelve hours, thirty-two minutes, and…” Tracey looked at her watch. “….twelve seconds.”

“I still don’t see why you didn’t send the boy along with her.” Monica replied as she watched the newest maid, a quiet little thing named Nellie; quickly flee down the curving staircase.

“Well, maybe Georgie will get back early.” Ever the optimist, Emily had to hope.

“Ha!” Tracey gave a shout of laughter. Leaning forward, she sat her glass down on the table and looked over at the younger woman. “Emily dear, we’re the Quartermaines.” she explained simply, “Even God doesn’t like us that much.”

The chiming of the doorbell saved Emily from replying. “I’ll get it,” Emily volunteered when it appeared that none of the servants were coming forth.

“Expecting someone?” Monica asked, smiling knowingly.

Emily fought to keep from rolling her eyes. “Mom, like I’ve told you before, Lucky and I are just friends.” Six months ago, she and Nicolas had called off their engagement when they’d realized that they were starting to drift apart. They had sat down on one of their rare moments that they were both at Wyndemere, and had been completely honest with each other. They still loved each other; they just weren’t in love with each other anymore. Three months ago, Nicolas had moved back to Greece.

The doorbell chimed again, snapping Emily out of her reverie. Excitedly, she ran over and flung open the door.

“Georgie!” Emily shrieked happily.





Tracey leaned back in her chair with an almost rueful expression. “Then again, we have been pretty good this year.”

Georgie smiled back at Em as she stepped into the foyer. It was good to be home. A quick look around showed that Dillon was no where to be seen. Figuring him to be in his room, she was about to excuse herself when Tracey stopped her, inquiring about her sudden return.

“Mario, the designer of the last show, his girlfriend or wife—I forget which, well she went into labor. So he closed the show early and I hopped on the next flight home.”

“Well, come over here and tell us all about Spain.” Monica invited, patting the spot next to her on the sofa.

Georgie cast an apologetic look towards the stairs, before she filled everyone in on her trip. Tracey sat back regarding the young girl who had captured her youngest son’s heart. Dressed in a white flowing tunic and a long chocolate brown tiered skirt, with her shiny hair tied back, she looked every inch the young college student. But all Tracey could see was the young girl who’d poured wet sand down her son’s pants when she’d been in the third grade.

Tracey still couldn’t believe it. But then again, who else but her son, would wake up from a drug-induced coma, get into an argument, and wind up reluctantly declaring his love? She fought back a chuckle.

Georgie sat down her tea and started to rise, when they heard something upstairs crash.

“SON OF A BITCH! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!”

Georgie groaned, and looked at the other three women. “Now who is he yelling at?”

Emily grinned, shaking her dark head. “Not who. What.”

“Huh?”

“He’s been….uh….” Monica paused, searching for the right words. When nothing came to her, she gave Georgie a helpless gesture. “Well, let’s just say that three days ago, the servants informed us that they weren’t going to be in the same room with him anymore.”

Emily and Tracey both nodded in agreement. “Yep, he’s run out of people to yell at, so now he’s taken to yelling at his furniture.” Emily informed her.

Groaning, Georgie flopped back down on the couch. “Great.”





Dillon flopped back down on his bed and glared at his DVR. “Freaking piece of crap!” His old DVR had broken down, forcing him to buy a new one. For some reason he wasn’t able to get the damn thing to record. He’d just spent the last three hours on the phone with tech support. More like tech idiots, he thought. Gritting his teeth, he picked up the remote and aimed it towards his TV.

A knock at his door, had him hurling the remote across the room. Getting up, he walked over to fling open his door. “WHAT?!” he snarled.

Georgie stood before him, her face impassive. “Well, hello to you too.” Lookin him over in his faded jeans and black t-shirt, she felt her palms go damp.

Dillon said nothing, he just stood there returning her inspection, before he suddenly reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her into the room.

“Okay, so before you start….” Georgie began, only to be cut off as Dillon’s mouth came down over hers. Instantly her hands went up to fist themselves in his hair, as his own hands automatically went around her waist. Moaning into his mouth, Georgie pressed herself closer still, molding her body to his.

Greedily, Dillon plunged his tongue into her mouth, savoring the taste that was uniquely her own. He groaned when her she lightly scraped the back of his neck with her nails, sending shivers of delight throughout him. Wrenching his mouth from her, he trailed a line of kisses down her neck and over her collarbone, as his hands sought the hem of her shirt.

Suddenly she pulled away. “Dillon. We have to stop. We can’t do this now.”

His look was incredulous. “Are you kidding me?” Seeing her nod, he gaped. “Why the hell not?!”

“Well, for starters, half of your family members are sitting downstairs in the foyer as we speak.”

“So.” He reached out to grab her, but she evaded him stepping out of his reach.

“So… I’m working for your mother right now.” Georgie added, gesturing with her hands. ‘It’s just….it’s just weird!”

“Georgie, it’s been six weeks since I’ve seen you. I wouldn’t care if the @#%$ President of the United States was sitting downstairs!” His body was still humming from the effects of that kiss.

Understanding his frustration, Georgie smiled and went over to wrap her arms around him. “I know. And ordinarily I wouldn’t mind either, but it’s just…”

Dillon rested his head on top of her own shiny crown, breathing in the hint of jasmine that partly defined her. “Weird. I know.” His eyes widened as an idea occurred to him. “The gatehouse,” he whispered, suddenly remembering the extra key that he kept in his car.

“What?”

“I’ve still got a key to the gatehouse.”

Georgie’s eyebrows went up. “You do?”

“Yeah, ever since that year, I’ve always kept a extra, for you know when Emily starts singing.” Dillon shuddered, remembering his cousins caterwauling. He looked down at her; his expression hopeful. “So what do you say?”

Georgie laughed and hugged him fiercely. “Sounds perfect.”

It was good to be home.

[JRK Archiver]

Chapter 2

“You are never…” Dillon brushed a kiss over Georgie’s shoulder, “allowed to leave….” his mouth skimmed over the column of her throat, “Port Charles ever again.” He declared as he lowered his head towards hers.

Georgie pushed him away. “Damn it Dillon!” she snapped as she threw back the sheet that covered her. “We are not having this argument.” Getting up, she started to collect her clothes. “I did not call and wake up Uncle Ren at three in the morning to ask to use his private jet, just to come here and have the same damn argument again!”

Caught off guard by her sudden outburst, Dillon quickly replayed what he’d just said, and realized what she was referring to. Just as quickly, his anger matched hers. “We wouldn’t have had to have these damn arguments if you would have just done what I asked you to do in the first place!” he snapped back, getting out of bed himself to pull on his jeans.

Georgie snatched her shirt up off the floor and yanked it over her head. “Asked?” she echoed her face incredulous. “Asked? Dillon, you didn’t ask, you practically ordered me to stay here!”

“Excuse the hell out of me, if I wasn’t too thrilled with the idea of my girlfriend traveling half way around the world, by herself, to a country that she’d never been to. And alone I might add!”

Georgie threw up her hands. “I WAS NOT ALONE!” She walked around the room, searching for her shoes. “I was in a hotel filled with reporters and fashion photographers.”

“Georgie, you can’t even speak the damn language!”

Georgie counted to ten….slowly. “They had translators.”

Dillon gritted his teeth. She was right. This was the same argument. “That’s not the point.” He stated through clenched teeth.

“No. The point is; you are just pissed because you didn’t get your way.” She walked over and poked a finger in his chest. “Listen here, buck-o. You do NOT get to control my life.”

“The hell I don’t!” Dillon snapped.

Georgie stepped back, a delicate brow raised, “Excuse me?”

“Last time I checked there were two people in this relationship.”

“There are.” Georgie looked at him suspiciously.

“Then we should have sat down and came to a mutual understanding. If we had, then you would have realized why no woman, especially if she’s my girlfriend, should travel alone.”

Georgie began to say something, and then decided against it. Instead, she walked to the door. With a hand on the knob, she looked over at him. “When you can stop acting like a caveman, you can give me a call.”

Dillon crossed his arms over his chest, and with a touch of his old arrogance stated, “One-I am not acting like a caveman. I don’t grunt and go around dragging women by their hair. And two-the proper name is Neanderthal.”

“Fine! Neanderthal, then!” She snapped and stormed out of the room.




Georgie wasn’t the only one who was frustrated at that time. Tom Wheldon sat behind a sheet of bullet-proof glass with a phone pressed to his ear. “When are you going to get me out of here?”

The man that sat on the other side of the glass leaned back in his chair. “Now why would I want to help you get out of jail?”

“I wouldn’t think that you would want your daughter to know that it was you who provided me with the guns and passed on information to me about the Spyders.”

Luis smiled a deceptively cool smile. “I really don’t know what you are talking about. I’m just a business man who contributed to your campaign.” He held out his hand as if to say 'See, my hands are empty'.

Tom wanted to scream his frustration out at the man. Didn’t Alcazar understand that he had to get out? That he had to go see some people…people who had to pay? Instead, he leveled his gaze with the other man. “Get me out of here, or your daughter will learn that it was you who shot her husband.”




Arrogant, insufferable ass! Georgie thought with a frown, as she stabbed at her stack of banana, honey and walnut pancakes.

“That’s an ugly look for someone so pretty.” A familiar voice said from somewhere above her head.

“Huh?” Looking up, she saw Lorenzo, looking immaculate in a gray suit, standing in front of her table. Georgie smiled and waved him to the empty chair that sat across from her. “Since when do you start using Guillermo’s lines?”

Lorenzo laughed and shook his head and asked with all seriousness, “I happen to like that one. What’s wrong, Georgie?”

“Dillon and I had a fight,” she confessed with a sigh.

Confused, Lorenzo commented, “Georgie, you and Dillon always fight.”

Georgie offered him a wan smile, “It’s not the same.” She picked up her fork and started stabbing at her pancakes again.

Lorenzo grabbed her hand and pulled the fork away. “Georgie, what’s wrong….really?” he prompted.

“I don’t think Dillon really wants to be with me anymore.” She admitted sadly.

“What makes you think that?”

“We don’t seem to be going anywhere. We’ve been going out for two years, and nothing has changed.” In fact, they seemed to be more bed buddies than anything else lately. The only thing that seemed to change was the décor on the bedroom walls. It was a thought that sometimes made her want to cry.

“I was gone for three months, Uncle Ren. In all that time, I only saw Dillon three times, and during those visits, we never had one time where we didn’t argue about why I went to Spain.” Georgie pressed her lips together, as emotion overcame her. “Fighting seems to be the only thing that we do anymore. We are never alone; when we go out, it’s always to this event or that party. Even when we say “I love you” to each other, it seems to be more out of habit than anything else. To tell you the truth, sometimes I think we are only together, because there isn’t anybody else in the picture.” Georgie looked at Lorenzo earnestly. “Off the top of your head, can you really picture anyone else with Dillon?”

“No more than I can picture Guillermo with anybody else,” he assured her. “What is it that you want Georgie?”

With a slight shrug, Georgie whispered, “I want something more.”

“Can I tell you something?” Lorenzo asked, taking a sip of his coffee. "It might help a little."

“Sure.”

“I don’t believe for a minute that Dillon doesn’t want you. Dillon only came out to see you three times, because while you were away, Tracey had him busy with helping Zander out opening the new ELQ branch in L.A. And when he wasn’t doing that, Mac and Ric had him busy when Wheldon’s parole hearing came up.” Lorenzo gave her an encouraging smile. “He loves you, Georgie. He never looked at another girl while you were away. I’d have shot him, if he did.”

For the first time, Georgie laughed. “Thank you.” She was quiet for a moment, before she gave him a big grin. “Did I ever tell you that I was in love with you when I was a little girl?”

Lorenzo didn’t surprise easy, but when he was, it showed. “Really?”

“Yep. I had it all planned out.”

“Oh? Were you going to propose and everything?”

Georgie gave him a horrified look. “Of course not!” she gasped. “You were going to ride in on your white plane and in front of all of my family, friends, and teachers, you were going to propose.”

“I take it, you were going to accept.”

“Of course. And then we were going to fly off to Disneyworld. All of the princesses were going to be my bridesmaids and the princes were going to be your groomsmen, and….”

“Mickey Mouse was going to marry us?” At her nod, Lorenzo leaned back, happy to see that the sadness had left her eyes. “I would have been delighted to marry you at Disneyworld if I were just a tad bit younger.”

With a rueful look, Georgie shook her head. “No. It would never had worked out. You’re too smart. I only fall in love with idiots.” She looked down at her watch. If she hurried, she might still catch him awake. “I guess I should go apologize for being an idiot myself.” She got up and walked around to give him a hug. “Thank you Uncle Ren, for being a prince yourself.”




A tentative knock sounded on his door. Setting down his pen, Dillon got up to answer it.

“Hi.” Hesitantly, Georgie smiled and waited.

“Hi.” Dillon stepped back to allow her in.

They stood, looking at each other, in the middle of his room.

“I’m sorry,” they both said in a rush, breaking the tension in the room. Dillon walked over to gather her in his arms. He knew her temper, and the fact that she’d returned as quickly as she had, had him breathing a little easier.

Georgie hugged him back, feeling closer to him at that moment than she had in a long time. She burrowed her face in his chest, breathing him in. “This is not the way, I’d planned on celebrating my homecoming,” she admitted with a laugh.

Dillon chuckled. “Nor was it mine.” He pulled back to look down into her face. “I hope you know, that I realize how important that trip was for you and your schooling.”

“I know.”

“So, uh, what did you uh, have in mind? For your homecoming that is.” He quirked a brow and leered at her, making her laugh.

Georgie grabbed his hand and led him to the bed. “How about something we haven’t done in a while?”

His brow furrowed, as he thought out loud, “What’s that?”

“Make some popcorn and watch the Addam’s Family marathon that’s running on AMC, off course.”

“Off course.” As Georgie made herself comfortable on his bed, Dillon walked over to his desk and called Cook to place his ‘order’. Little did Georgie know, he had his own plans for her homecoming.




Emily, who’d been keeping a watchful eye on the staircase, turned to face Monica and Tracey, who were both rummaging through their purses. “Aww, c’mon you two,” Emily grinned as the other two women shot her a withering glance. “It was a fair bet.”

“I think I’m going to make your father a happy man, and stop betting against the two of you,” Monica said, as she handed over a twenty to her daughter.

With a scowl, Tracey thrust another twenty into Emily’s hands. “I know the three of you are plotting against us. I just need to find a way to prove it.”

Emily said nothing, she just bit her lip and smiled.

Someone was plotting something, but she wasn’t telling.

[JRK Archiver]

Chapter 3

“You son-of-a maggot-eating cockroach!”

Dillon lowered his fork back onto his plate and looked up into the furious face of his girlfriend, and frowned. “And good morning to you, too.”

That only seemed to make her madder.

“Don’t you dare get flip with me, Dillon Quartermaine!” Georgie snapped, throwing down her purse on a nearby chair.

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Today, she was wearing her ‘work’ garb; faded jeans and pink t-shirt with her hair pulled into a messy ponytail. Three weeks had been too long.

“Georgie, what’s wrong?” Monica asked, offering her a cup of coffee.

Taking a sip of her coffee, Georgie gestured to Dillon. “My ever loving boyfriend over here, up and decided to tell Sage that she could have today off.” She locked eyes with Dillon as she continued. “I’ve got one week left to get all of the samples ready to give to Tracey to present to the hospital and he decides to give my only help a day off!”

“I’m in the fricken room!” Dillon snapped, tired of being talked about like he wasn’t even there. And as usual her temper had sparked his own. Getting up, he leaned down and shook a finger in Georgie’s face. “And you how much I hate it when you do that!”

Georgie knocked his hand away and took a step closer to him so that they stood toe-toe, nose-to-nose. “Too damn bad!” she snapped.

Looking at the two of them, Monica was reminded of times when they were younger, where they would assume that very same position. She was broken out of her reverie by Edward who came blustering through the door.

“What the devil is going on in here?!” One look at Dillon and Georgie had him sobering quickly. Clearing his throat, he sat down beside a quietly giggling Emily. “Georgie,” he acknowledged as he buttered some toast. “Glad to see that things have finally returned back to normal between the two of you.” He looked up to find that everyone was staring at him. “What? Quiet frankly seeing the two of you being all lovey-dovey was beginning to make me sick.”

“Is it the volunteer uniforms that you and Sage are working on?” Emily asked, after shushing Edward.

“Yes, you know the ones that I got the ideas from when I went to Spain for three months.” Though her words were to Emily, Georgie’s eyes were on Dillon.

“Well, excuse me, sweetheart, if I wanted Guillermo to have his wife home for his birthday!”

“Don’t you dare ‘sweetheart’ me!" Georgie warned. "Guillermo’s birthday is on the 23rd. Next Saturday.”

Dillon slowly counted to ten before he replied. “Georgie today is the 23rd.”

“What?! No it isn’t!” Georgie looked around the table, where everyone nodded their head in agreement. “It is?” As if suddenly deflated, she flopped down in one of the chairs. “Crap!”

Dillon sat down next to her, a self-satisfied smirk in place. “I do believe you owe me an apology.”

“Oh shut up,” she grumbled irritably. Draining her cup, she got up and headed out of the room.

Realizing that he hadn’t gotten his apology, Dillon ran after her. “Hey!” he called out, after finally catching up to her in Lila’s rose garden. “You still owe me….” She caught his mouth with her own in a hard kiss that instantly had his mind going blank. Instinctively his hands gathered her closer as he deepened kiss, groaning when he felt her small hands clutch at his back.

Georgie moaned pressing herself even closer to him, aligning the curves of her body to the hard planes of his own. Nipping his lower lip, she dropped her hands to clutch his backside, smiling when she heard his groan. Three weeks had been way too long.

They slowly pulled apart, each gasping for breath. The first to recover, she backed away with a cheeky smile. “Don’t ever go over my head again.”

Panting for breath, Dillon admired the way she walked away.




“Are your eyes closed?” Sage asked as she escorted her husband to the table that she’d dressed.

“Yes!” Guillermo laughed, pulling at the blindfold that she’d insisted he wore. He would always be indebted to Dillon for giving her the day off. Over the past two months, it seemed they were rarely alone. A delicious aroma wafted up, causing him to sniff the air appreciatively. “Felicia’s been here?”

Sage smacked him good-naturedly on the arm. “Ha ha. Very funny.” She seated him at the table, before she removed his blindfold. “I’ll have you know, I cooked this. Thank you very much.” Silently she prayed that the spaghetti dinner actually tasted as good as it smelled.

Guillermo smiled, his blue eyes glowing with the love that he felt for her. He had next to no family, so her being there on that day, made it that much more special. Indeed, he was very indebted to Dillon. “Looks good,” he commended, as he took in the meal that included a garden salad and warm garlic bread. A bottle from her uncle completed the meal. While she prepared their plates, he poured them each a glass of wine.

Sage picked up her glass and held it up. “A toast. To the man who puts up with me and my friends, with hardly any complaints.” She paused when she saw his quirked brow. “I said hardly,” she admitted with a laugh. “And to the man to whom I love more than anything in the world. Happy Birthday.”

Clinking their glasses together, they each took a sip of their wine, their eyes on one another. Getting up, Guillermo walked over to the jukebox and slipped a quarter in. The sounds of Los Lonely Boys Velvet Sky filled the small dinner. Gathering her in his arms, Guillermo slowly led her around the room.

It was a long time before they tasted Sage’s dinner.

[JRK Archiver]

Chapter 4

Racing up the walkway, Dillon took the steps two at a time, before he paused by the door long enough to catch his breath and glance at the Vancuer watch that Lila had given him for Christmas. Ringing the bell, he waited for a full five seconds before he pounded on the door.

They had a half an hour to get there, and if she didn’t hurry, then they were going to be late.

Twenty seconds later, he was ringing the bell again.

Another thirty seconds found him swearing under his breath, and checking his watch yet again. Muttering a curse, Dillon lifted his hand to pound on the door yet again when it swung open to reveal a stunning temptress with long dark hair and dancing brown eyes.

Seeing his reaction, Georgie hid a smile behind a jeweled hand. She knew she looked good. The floor length black silk clung to her curves, while the v-shaped neckline dipped low enough to reveal a tantalizing amount of cleavage. The jewelry she wore was minimal. A pendant in the shape of a spider hung from a chain around her neck, and a large black onyx ring graced her right hand.

It took Dillon several minutes to recover.

As he stood there on her doorstep with his mouth open, Georgie took a moment to look over his costume. He wore a navy blue pin striped suit, a black bow tie, and black loafers that matched the color of his hair. A carefully drawn pencil thin moustache outlined his upper lip.

They made for a pitiful looking Gomez and Morticia Adams.

“As soon as you can, uh, get your chin off the floor, we can go.” She reminded him as she went to grab a small black clutch.

Dillon blinked once, twice, before he shook himself out of his daze and followed her into the house. “You know,” he reached out to finger the pendant that hung between her breasts, “in some countries, it’s considered to be good taste to show up a few minutes late.” He smiled suggestively and quirked a brow, “Fashionably late and all of that.”

Smiling, Georgie swatted him on the arm with her purse. “Behave yourself.”

“If I must.” Dillon sighed and contented himself by brushing a kiss across her soft lips. Maybe, just maybe, they’d get a flat tire along the way.




Had Georgie read the box that the perfume that her sister had sent her, she might have known the reason for her restlessness. As it was, she fidgeted in her seat and tried to find different ways to distract herself from leaning across the seat and plunging her tongue down his throat.

“What’s different about you, tonight?” Dillon asked, breaking into her thoughts. Something had seemed to be missing from her tonight.

“Um…everything?” Georgie lifted up a lock of hair as if to say Duh.

“I know that.” Shaking his head, he looked over at her and wished he hadn’t. The smooth creaminess of her bare leg peeked out from the slit in her dress that ran from ankle to hip. Somehow he’d missed it when she’d answered the door.

He had a thing for her in dresses and skirts that had slits in them.

"Something just seems to be, I don't know, missing."

Georgie shrugged. “I don’t know.” She leaned back and watched the fields fly by, as they made their way to the costume party that Emily and Lucky were holding at the former Wheldon Center. The benefit was raising money for the cancer treatment center that the hospital was remodeling.

“I think I know what it is. Maxie sent me a new perfume when she found out what I was going as. It’s called ‘Bewitched’.”

Dillon nodded, his eyes glued to the road that stretched before him. He didn’t trust himself to look at her again. “I like it. It smells nice.”

“Thanks.” Georgie leaned back in her seat again, and watched him as he drove. He had great hands, she thought. They were as able to handle the car with ease as they were of bringing her to…She yanked her gaze away and looked out the window again, noticing an old abandoned farmhouse just up ahead. “So, um, just exactly how late can you be before it’s no longer considered to be fashionable?”

Dillon shrugged. “Fifteen…twenty minutes, I think. Why?”

“There’s the old Taylor farm up ahead, I thought we could stop by and take a look at it.”

“You want to stop by and look at an old farm? Why?”

Georgie reached over and took his hand, bringing it to her lips. She lightly bit down on his knuckle, before she reached over and nibbled on his ear.

Dillon slammed on the brakes, when her tongue slipped in his ear. Fortunately, they were the only ones on the road.

Breathing heavily, Georgie pulled back. “Does that answer your question?”




They made it to the farm in record time. By the time, Dillon had stopped the car; Georgie had already freed herself from the seatbelt and was climbing over to seat herself on his lap. Dillon’s hands slipped underneath her dress, to grasp her hips, pressing her as close to him as possible as his mouth claimed hers.

Moaning, Georgie wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss, even as he worked at removing the lacy boy shorts that she wore. Dillon groaned, when he felt her small hands undo the button of his pants. They were moving too fast, he knew, but was powerless to stop it.

“Now!” Georgie demanded, her hands desperately clutching his shoulders. Needing no encouragement, Dillon grasped her hips once again, and pulled her down on him, his mouth covered hers, stifling her cry of pleasure.

Moments later, Georgie lay with her head resting against his chest, both waiting for their breathing to return to normal.

“That was, um…” Try as he might, Dillon couldn’t finish his sentence.

“Intense?”

He nodded. And waited. “Georgie?”

“Yeah?”

He was sure he was blind this time, but still it never hurt to ask.

“Are my eyes open?”

[JRK Archiver]

Chapter 5

“Are you okay?”

They were standing in front of what used to be called The Wheldon Center, only now it was called The N & L Day Spa and Salon. Georgie stood beside him, her hand tucked safely in his. She hated this place. No one could say who was more surprised when Dillon suggested the center to Emily and Lucky, when they had determined that the Quartermaine mansion wasn’t going to be big enough to hold all five thousand attendees.

When she’d asked Dillon about his suggestion, he’d merely shrugged and had said that it wasn’t the buildings fault that Wheldon had kept him here. He’d also mentioned that it was a shame to waste such a beautiful place. It was after that, that Lucky and Nicolas decided to buy the building and turn it into something else.

She didn’t care. They could put any name they wanted to on it. She still hated the place. He’d almost died here.

Dillon looked from the massive oak doors, down to where she stood by his side. “Yeah, why?”

“You seem pretty tense,” Georgie lifted their entwined hands, showing him the tight grip he had on her hand. “You’ve been cutting off my circulation for the past five minutes.”

With a silent oath, he quickly loosened his grip. “Sorry about that,” he added with a sheepish grin. “You’d think after what we just did twenty minutes ago, that I’d be as loose as a cucumber.”

Georgie grinned, despite the blush that she could feel growing to the roots of her hair. “That’s cool as a cucumber. Are you sure you want to go in there?” Through the open windows, they could hear the laughter and the music, a sure sign indicating that the party was in full swing. “I could just pop in there and give Emily the check that Zander and Maxie sent, and then make our excuses for why we couldn’t stay.”

It was a tempting offer, Dillon had to admit. Just standing there had him breaking out into a cool sweat. “No,” he said after a moment’s hesitation. “It’s like someone once told me, in order for me to overcome my fears, I have to face them.” Then, tongue in cheek, “Of course, she then turned around and rubbed mud all over my face.”

Georgie laughed and shot him a look that had him second guessing his decision to stay there. “Yeah, she’s pretty smart, don’t you think?”

Dillon opened the strong oak doors. “Of course she is,” he deadpanned, “she’s going out with me.”





Ain’t going down till the sun comes up!

“Since when did Lucky and Emily start listening to country music?” Georgie had to yell over the music, even though Dillon only stood two inches away. The party was indeed in full swing. Over five thousand bodies moved around the room, some dancing, while others poured over the delicacies and glasses of wine that weighed down numerous tables.

“Last summer. They won some concert tickets to some Urban Legend guy, and have been hooked ever since.”

“Urban Legend?” Georgie’s brow furrowed thoughtfully. “You mean Keith Urban?”

Dillon shrugged. “Could be.”

Baby when I look at you
You know it breaks my heart in two
How beautiful you are
I've seen you in a million dreams

“You’re hopeless,” she declared, even as she dragged him out onto the dance floor. “Remind me to introduce you to something more than Chopin and Renault.”

Now you're finally here with me
We will never be apart
I wanna hold you forever
That's all I'll ever need

Dillon started to object, but decided against it. Slow songs weren’t really his thing, but they did have one advantage. They allowed you to hold someone close for a few quiet, blissful moments.

You are my love
You are my life
My heart and soul
The truest friend I've ever known
You are my world
All of my dreams
My fantasy, My reality
I love everything you are

Georgie sighed and leaned her head against his chest, her arms wrapped around his waist. “I’ve got to admit, this is a nice song," she murmurred.

Dillon pressed a kiss on the top of her head, his eyes catching his cousin and her best friend as they danced pretty much the same way he was dancing with Georgie. The only difference was that Emily and Lucky were staring at each other, as if noticing the other person for the first time.

Every time I close my eyes
It hits me so deep inside
How real this feeling is
I'm intoxicated by your touch
It’s a sweet, sweet rush
I'm in love with your kiss
You're the one I trust the most
You changed me

The more he listened to the song, the more he thought about how it seemed to fit them. If someone would have come up to him five years ago and told him that he’d be holding her at a dance held by his cousin, he would have laughed in their face.

You are my love
You are my life
My heart and soul
The truest friend I've ever known
You are my world
All of my dreams
My fantasy, My reality
I love everything you are

Georgie seemed to sense his contemplative mood. Lifting her head, she looked him in the eye. “Are you sure you’re okay being here? No one would blame you if you wanted to leave.”

“I’m fine,” he assured her, brushing a light kiss across her lips. “I was just looking around and spotted Emily and Lucky. They’re over there.” He nodded his head in the direction where they were dancing. A glint of light winked from the spider pendant that she wore, caught his eye. “However, I’m thinking that for my safety, we might want to leave.”

“Why’s that?” Georgie lifter her head and looked around, catching sight of the man who was practically her brother and his best friend.

Without thought, Dillon fingered the pendant. “Because if Lucky saw what you are wearing, he’d either shoot me or throw me in jail, or both if for nothing else-- good measure.”

“He’s got no room to talk. I’m not the one walking around here, half naked.” Indeed, Lucky was dressed as either a gladiator and Emily was dressed up like Cleopatra.

“Yes, but he's still got a gun.” Dillon leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Besides, do you remember when was the last chance we had to be alone?”

You are my love
You are my life
My heart and soul
The truest friend I've ever known
You are my world
All of my dreams
My fantasy, My reality
I love everything you are

“I’d have to say about an hour ago.” She quipped, laughing when he growled at her. Biting her lip, she allowed herself to be pulled off the dance floor.

Everything, I love everything you are.