Fic: The Deal (an incomplete rough draft)
Title: The Deal
Summary: In a rather different universe, Luke and Tracy strike a deal of marriage.
AN II: Tracy and Luke’s relationship is going to be a little naughty and nice here. This is literally a seven-year old fic. Tread lightly.
Disclaimer: I own this idea but not the folks playing the parts of this idea.
~~~
Tracy had grown increasingly amused by Luke Spencer over the years. He was a middle-aged man not yet ready to surrender the lifestyle of his younger years. She thought it was oddly ironic that traits that had made those years so worthwhile had left him in such dire straits. She supposed that was his unique brand of luck.
She dipped the olive perched at the end of a toothpick into her martini and downed it, contently. Today was her day and she was feeling every inch the Woman King. One particularly lucrative business deal was behind her and now she was a very wealthy woman--even wealthier than she’d been born. Which is exactly why she had been expecting a visit from Port Charles’ resident hoodlum.
It seemed that her old friend, Lucas Lorenzo, had gotten himself into a fair amount of financial trouble with a couple of loan sharks and that he was in the market for a savior. To his grave misfortune, he didn’t have much in the way of markers left to call in and the man who had at one time been his closest ally, Sonny Corinthos, hadn’t done him any favors since his divorce from Laura.
Her spies had reported the news of the bounty on his head and well, it would suffice to say that Luke was running fast out of options and Tracy Quartermaine knew it. As did he, but she also knew he’d fight it every step of the way before he’d set foot on her doorstep and ask for help. She was sure there had to be many a clever aphorism for such bullheaded stubbornness but she wasn’t in the mood to go searching the dusty tomes of English Literature 101 in the back of her mind for them. It was only a matter of time before something appropriate reared its head.
And speak of the Devil. With a flamboyant ring of the doorbell, Luke Spencer revealed himself to her in all his cocky and self-deprecating splendor.
He sauntered into her den and smiled, hands tucked coolly in his jean pockets. She offered him a shot of sixteen year-old single malt and he positively purred at the invitation. She went so far as to pour it for him herself, and took care to be kind and unassuming along the way. This was their game: a play on business and business amidst their play.
She presented him with the glass and seated herself regally in the armchair perpendicular to his place on the sofa. She enjoyed the view it afforded, and the psychological effect. Technically, she was isolated and at a distance from anyone she should entertain, but she was little more than four feet away. In fact, with almost no effort she could swipe Luke’s glass from his fingers half full.
She didn’t. Compassion was the order of the day.
“What do I owe the pleasure of your company, Luke?”
He settled deeper into the sofa, gladly sipping his drink. He draped his arm across the back of his lounge and smiled in an all too charming way.
“Can’t one old friend visit another old friend?”
As she swished her glass, her smirk changed to a frown. “Not if you’re implying that I’m old, no.”
“You? Old? You’re not a day over newborn, baby, and I oughta know, I’ve had my eye on you since the first time I saw you.”
Tracy chuckled. “Don’t let that get back to Laura.”
“She wouldn’t care.”
Tracy let her rolling eyes do the talking.
“Anyway, I’m not here about her.”
“I didn’t think you were. Out with it.”
Luke scowled like he’d bitten into a lemon. “Don’t make me say it.”
“Your options are to speak your peace or to leave my home.” Tracy tapped her polished watch face, counting the seconds until he folded. “Time is money.”
Luke stiffened in his sprawl and set his glass on the coffee table. He looked as uncomfortable as he ever did, which wasn’t saying much of Port Charles’s former mayor. “Speaking of things you have a lot of, I’ll be brief. You have money and I need money. How much of my soul will it take to get borrow a few hundred thousand large off you?”
Tracy made a show of being surprised. “Wow, you don’t ask for much, do you?”
“Come on, Trace, we both know you’re good for it.”
“You’re right. I am good for several million dollars. You, my oh so felonious comrade, do not have two dimes to put in a jukebox so that you might even sing about having a penny to your name. You are flat broke.”
Luke glared at her with growing suspicion. “I know that, but how do you?”
Tracy rose to refill Luke’s glass. He looked like he might need it. “I have my sources.”
“You’ve been expecting me.”
“Like a loan shark expects a poor man with an affinity for craps. Word of your financial difficulties has come to my attention.”
“Then, let’s drop the run-around. I need you. What’s it gonna cost me?”
“It’s going to cost you exactly what it costs me. And depending on whom you ask, it’s a bargain.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
“I wouldn’t either in your position. But then I’m not careless enough to get myself into your position, which is very lucky for you.”
Luke waved for her get on with it. “Don’t leave me in suspense. What’s my soul worth to you?”
“Your soul? Not much. I don’t deal in fairytales. What I want is your promise and I will get it-when you marry me.”
Luke Spencer, a man of quips for every occasion, suddenly found himself speechless. Tracy grinned. Unbeknownst to him, this was the beginning of a beautiful partnership.
Summary: In a rather different universe, Luke and Tracy strike a deal of marriage.
AN II: Tracy and Luke’s relationship is going to be a little naughty and nice here. This is literally a seven-year old fic. Tread lightly.
Disclaimer: I own this idea but not the folks playing the parts of this idea.
~~~
Tracy had grown increasingly amused by Luke Spencer over the years. He was a middle-aged man not yet ready to surrender the lifestyle of his younger years. She thought it was oddly ironic that traits that had made those years so worthwhile had left him in such dire straits. She supposed that was his unique brand of luck.
She dipped the olive perched at the end of a toothpick into her martini and downed it, contently. Today was her day and she was feeling every inch the Woman King. One particularly lucrative business deal was behind her and now she was a very wealthy woman--even wealthier than she’d been born. Which is exactly why she had been expecting a visit from Port Charles’ resident hoodlum.
It seemed that her old friend, Lucas Lorenzo, had gotten himself into a fair amount of financial trouble with a couple of loan sharks and that he was in the market for a savior. To his grave misfortune, he didn’t have much in the way of markers left to call in and the man who had at one time been his closest ally, Sonny Corinthos, hadn’t done him any favors since his divorce from Laura.
Her spies had reported the news of the bounty on his head and well, it would suffice to say that Luke was running fast out of options and Tracy Quartermaine knew it. As did he, but she also knew he’d fight it every step of the way before he’d set foot on her doorstep and ask for help. She was sure there had to be many a clever aphorism for such bullheaded stubbornness but she wasn’t in the mood to go searching the dusty tomes of English Literature 101 in the back of her mind for them. It was only a matter of time before something appropriate reared its head.
And speak of the Devil. With a flamboyant ring of the doorbell, Luke Spencer revealed himself to her in all his cocky and self-deprecating splendor.
He sauntered into her den and smiled, hands tucked coolly in his jean pockets. She offered him a shot of sixteen year-old single malt and he positively purred at the invitation. She went so far as to pour it for him herself, and took care to be kind and unassuming along the way. This was their game: a play on business and business amidst their play.
She presented him with the glass and seated herself regally in the armchair perpendicular to his place on the sofa. She enjoyed the view it afforded, and the psychological effect. Technically, she was isolated and at a distance from anyone she should entertain, but she was little more than four feet away. In fact, with almost no effort she could swipe Luke’s glass from his fingers half full.
She didn’t. Compassion was the order of the day.
“What do I owe the pleasure of your company, Luke?”
He settled deeper into the sofa, gladly sipping his drink. He draped his arm across the back of his lounge and smiled in an all too charming way.
“Can’t one old friend visit another old friend?”
As she swished her glass, her smirk changed to a frown. “Not if you’re implying that I’m old, no.”
“You? Old? You’re not a day over newborn, baby, and I oughta know, I’ve had my eye on you since the first time I saw you.”
Tracy chuckled. “Don’t let that get back to Laura.”
“She wouldn’t care.”
Tracy let her rolling eyes do the talking.
“Anyway, I’m not here about her.”
“I didn’t think you were. Out with it.”
Luke scowled like he’d bitten into a lemon. “Don’t make me say it.”
“Your options are to speak your peace or to leave my home.” Tracy tapped her polished watch face, counting the seconds until he folded. “Time is money.”
Luke stiffened in his sprawl and set his glass on the coffee table. He looked as uncomfortable as he ever did, which wasn’t saying much of Port Charles’s former mayor. “Speaking of things you have a lot of, I’ll be brief. You have money and I need money. How much of my soul will it take to get borrow a few hundred thousand large off you?”
Tracy made a show of being surprised. “Wow, you don’t ask for much, do you?”
“Come on, Trace, we both know you’re good for it.”
“You’re right. I am good for several million dollars. You, my oh so felonious comrade, do not have two dimes to put in a jukebox so that you might even sing about having a penny to your name. You are flat broke.”
Luke glared at her with growing suspicion. “I know that, but how do you?”
Tracy rose to refill Luke’s glass. He looked like he might need it. “I have my sources.”
“You’ve been expecting me.”
“Like a loan shark expects a poor man with an affinity for craps. Word of your financial difficulties has come to my attention.”
“Then, let’s drop the run-around. I need you. What’s it gonna cost me?”
“It’s going to cost you exactly what it costs me. And depending on whom you ask, it’s a bargain.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
“I wouldn’t either in your position. But then I’m not careless enough to get myself into your position, which is very lucky for you.”
Luke waved for her get on with it. “Don’t leave me in suspense. What’s my soul worth to you?”
“Your soul? Not much. I don’t deal in fairytales. What I want is your promise and I will get it-when you marry me.”
Luke Spencer, a man of quips for every occasion, suddenly found himself speechless. Tracy grinned. Unbeknownst to him, this was the beginning of a beautiful partnership.