Over My Dead Body – Chapter 21

It was after 1 o'clock in the morning when MJ arrived at his apartment.

"What a day," he grumbled, tossing the day's mail onto the couch. Removing his jacket and tie, he unbuttoned his shirt, and headed straight for the shower. No sooner had MJ stepped into the bathroom did he hear a persistent knock at his door.

"What the hell?" Making his way to the living room, grumbling words of disbelief the entire time, he angrily jerked the door open without bothering to check the peephole. "This had better be good!" His less than gracious welcome was immediately replaced with an inviting smile. "Jensyn, what a pleasant surprise."

If having to contend with that killer smile wasn't enough of a distraction, now he was standing before her with his shirt open. The man was cut like Adonis, and try as she might, she couldn't help staring. Will had to keep her from swooning right on the spot, that and the fact she was resting against the doorframe. Get yourself together Jensyn, she demanded of herself, you're here to ask questions, not gawk.

"Alright Harmon, what the hell is going on?" she asked, her tone a little more brusque than she intended but then again, she was pissed; at him for giving her cause to come over and finding him in this state of undress, and herself for being so effected by it.

"Well, right now, you're staring at my chest like you want to commit it to memory, using an extremely abrasive tone with me, and standing at my door at 1 o'clock in the morning. Now, sure you've spent most of your life in Australia, but in America, when a woman shows up at a man's house at this hour it's usually for one thing. Are you familiar with the term boo--"

Pushing her way through, Jensyn held up her hand to cut him off. "I'm familiar with the term, and I assure you that has nothing to do with why I'm here." Not that she didn't find the idea appealing, but that was a whole other story. Sweeping her gaze around the room, she was surprised at how comfortable and tastefully decorated it was. It could have been neater, but who was she to question neatness?

After closing the door, he joined her in the living room. "Really," he replied less than enthusiastically, "then why are you here at this ungodly hour?"

"I caught your report and--" she sighed heavily as her eyes gravitated to his chest. She was incapable of coherent thought with his muscular torso exposed. "I know you laud yourself as an exhibitionist, but you need to button your shirt."

A mischievous smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Am I making you uncomfortable? I just got home after a very long day and was about to take a shower. I think that if you unbutton you shirt and let me stare at your bare chest for a while it will go a long way in making you feel at ease. Or at the very least, allow us to share the obvious discomfort you're experiencing," he submitted.

Her expression told him she was neither amused nor about to go along with his suggestion.

"Okay, just tell me why you're here?" he amended, as he grudgingly buttoned all but the top button of his shirt. "Happy now?"

"Very," she offered with a smug smile. "Now tell me what you know?"

"I know a lot," he answered, taking a seat on the couch and scanning the mail he tossed aside earlier. "What specifically are you asking about?"

"Your late breaking news report. How much of a surprise was that to you?" she asked, standing a few feet away from the couch.

"The mobsters being set free? It was a big surprise, that's why it was called breaking news," he replied, picking up the current Sports Illustrated and flipping through the pages. "You know, you can sit down."

"I'd rather stand. Harmon, you don't want to lie to me. I want to help you, but you have to be honest with me."

Plopping the magazine back on the couch, he abruptly turned his attention to her. "I am being honest and help me how? What are you getting at?"

"You were in some covert meeting with Sal Mancusi today, and later that same day, during a newscast you normally don't do, you're announcing that his underworld comrades have been released from prison. Sort of a strange coincidence, especially with you so anxious to be the first reporter to break the case I'm working on."

"A coincidence is what it was," he replied, trying desperately to keep the anger at her suggestion from showing up in his voice as he made his way over.

"I had no idea when I saw Sal today that those mobsters were going to be released, and I already told you my dealings with him are personal. As for doing the late broadcast, I was otherwise engaged during the day so I offered to do the news at 11. Nothing covert there."

"I need more than that."

"You don't trust me?" MJ asked, inching closer to her.

I don't trust myself, she thought, taking a few steps back, "This is not about my trusting you," she explained. "This is about how things look. And right now, they don't look good for you." Her mind flashed to the impromptu meeting she just concluded with Zach and Riley, and the many questions that meeting brought up. "You need to tell me what your personal dealings are with Sal, and be specific."

"I want to meet my grandmother, so I went to Sal to ask his permission. Are you satisfied now?"

Confusion clouded her face. "I don't understand."

"I was talking with my father a couple of weeks ago and we got on the topic of the Mancusis. I told him I was interested in doing an expose' on the Mafia leaning toward but not pointing directly at the Mancusis. Dad promptly lost his mind and demanded I stay far away from Sal and this expose' idea. He was adamant about it, so I agreed. During the exchange he talked briefly about his mother. My father is a very decent man, nothing at all like Sal, and his mother had to be responsible for that. I wanted to meet her, and find out if maybe she wanted to see him again."

"Okay, but that doesn't explain why you went to Sal."

"My dear grandfather is no fool. He hates my parents, which means he probably hates me too. I wasn't about to chance trying to see her without his knowing. I figured if he was going to kill me, at least I'd see the bullet coming if I came to him with my request first. He didn't shoot me, and he said he'd think about it. In fact, I think my coming to him impressed him in some strange way. That was the extent of our meeting."

She considered what he said for a few moments before responding. "I can't believe you would do something so unbelievably stupid. The fact that you knew Sal could harm you should have been reason enough to stay away, not to mention your father's warning."

"Sal's real deep in this case of yours, isn't he?"

"I'm not going to discuss particulars of this case with you. I hope for your sake Sal doesn't make contact with you, but if he does, tell me about it immediately." Taking a deep breath and then releasing it, "Thanks for making things clearer. I'll get out of your way now," Jensyn said as she headed toward the door.

Though the conversation wasn't exactly to his liking, he wasn't ready for her to leave. "There's no rush," he said, bringing a stop to her progression to the door. "Can I get you something? Coffee, tea?" Me, he wanted to say.

"If you're hungry I can cook you something. My French toast will melt in your mouth."

"I thought you were tired?"

"I've found a second wind," he smiled.

No Jensyn, don't succumb to the smile. "I really need to be going," she asserted, once again attempting to leave.

Taking her left hand in his, "Look, before you rush off, there's something we need to talk about," he told her.

Why was it that his touch set her whole body ablaze, and made her heart feel like she had just run a marathon? "May I please have my hand?"

"In a minute," he answered, stepping closer to her, while wondering how it was that a tough as nails cop/secret agent could have such soft hands.

"You've been on my mind a lot today. To be perfectly frank, you've been on my mind a lot since that moment at the Grille when I stopped paying attention to myself for a moment and paid some to you." MJ fingered the silken curls that fell about her shoulders. "You're an extremely beautiful woman, Jensyn

Scorpio."

"And that means what?" she asked, her voice whispery soft as she tried not to drown in those mesmerizing dark pools he called eyes.

"It means I like you, and I'd like to get to know you better."

His warm breath burned her skin as his lips hovered dangerously close to hers. MJ Harmon was very attractive, smart, and funny in his own way. And though Jensyn tried, she was not immune to his charms, but damn it, she refused to be added to the number of women he considered conquests. She was not having that. Besides, he was way too arrogant, definitely not the kind of guy she wanted to be interested in. No way. "You like me?" she murmured.

"Yes I do," he admitted with a low growl, her nearness causing his head to swim.

"And you want to get to know me better."

"Oh yeah," he nodded.

"And in the language of MJ Harmon that means what, exactly? You want to sleep with me?" she remarked.

Where did that splash of cold water come from, MJ wondered.  Releasing a breath, he struggled to find the right response to her statement.

Slipping her hand from his grasp, "Hmm, I think I've stumbled upon the truth," she said, once again making her way to the door.

"No, you haven't," he returned, moving ahead and blocking her path to the door. "I'm not going to lie and say the idea hasn't crossed my mind, I mean you're a very attractive woman, but it's more than that. You're so together, in every way. That kiss we shared today was amazing. You responded to it, and that told me that whatever this is I'm feeling, you're feeling it too."

"What I feel when I'm around you is exasperated. You don't like me, Harmon; we fight, constantly. You're attracted to me, that's different. And since you brought up that kiss, you might also recall the slap that followed it."

"Fiery passion. You didn't slap me because you were appalled, you slapped me because you wanted me as much as I wanted you, and that's what you hate.  That slap happened out of sheer frustration, you can't stand the fact that you want me. I dare you to tell me I'm wrong."

How was it that he could peg her so easily? Her body may have given her away, but she wasn't about to let her words confirm the truth for him. "I'm leaving," she said, moving around him and pulling the door open.

Jensyn wasn't sure how it happened, it occurred so fast, but before she knew it she was penned between MJ and the door with his outstretched arms confining her in his self-made jail. She was sure she wouldn't be able to fight it if he attempted to kiss her again, and at this point, she wouldn't even try. Something was pulling her to him, and as much as she hated it, she really liked it too.

The rapid pounding of her heart made the pulse points at her neck extremely visible. MJ couldn't resist bringing his lips down on the pulsating flesh, that seemed to be moving in time with the thumping in his own chest.

Her soft moans of pleasure were a welcome sound to his ears as his lips gently caressed both the left and right side of her neck. When her arms snaked around his shoulders, he stopped what he was doing and stared intently into her eyes. "You can't deny it, can you? That's why you tried to run.

You don't have to run, Jensyn. You've only gotten a small taste of MJ, it only gets better from here," he boasted as he leaned forward to kiss her.

If he had just kept quiet, his lips would have begun to squelch that fire he caused to rage inside her, but no, his arrogance once again reminded her why she disliked him so much. She returned his gaze with one of her own as MJ's lips hovered fractions of an inch from hers. "Harmon, if you come within another inch of me, I promise, you will find yourself doubled over and in a world of pain," she warned, dropping her hands to her side.

Her point taken, MJ backed up several paces. "What's the problem?" he asked, the desire that once glazed his eyes now replaced with puzzlement.

"You!" she answered flatly.

He released a short, quick breath. "I don't understand you. I ask you out on a date, and you laugh in my face. We share this earth-shaking kiss, and you slap me. Now, I'm practically worshipping at your feet and you threaten me with bodily harm? I don't get it. Hell, besides my mother and sister, you're the only woman I ever offered to cook for. Any other female would give her right arm to be in your position to be with me," he said slapping his chest.

"I'm not like those bimbos that flock to you like you're the Second Coming.  I don't care about how good you look or that you're some local TV celebrity. What I do care about is the fact that you're an arrogant, pompous, self-absorbed, over-bearing" she was thinking of more adjectives to add when

"Wait a second!" MJ interrupted her with a frown.  "If I'm all those things, why are so you attracted to me?"

"That is a question for the ages."

"So you admit it?" he remarked, stunned by her honesty.

Damn, I did, she thought. "I'm human, which means I have my shortcomings.  Unlike you, I'm willing to admit I'm not perfect."

"I never said I was perfect, I'm just damn close to it."  MJ beamed, catching a glimpse of his reflection in the wall-mounted mirror beside him.

"What you are is full of sh--," clearing her throat before her true opinion slipped, "yourself," she countered.  “Remembering that will keep this attraction I'm feeling in check."

Feeling courageous, MJ walked up to her and stroked her cheek. "Come on, Jensyn. I'm just being me," he smirked.

"Then you, sir, are an asshole," she retorted, removing his hand from her face. "I would suggest you check before letting someone in here the next time. Hanging around mobsters can be bad for your health."

The resounding thud of the door closing was the next thing MJ heard.

"Damn!" he swore, brushing his hand across his head in frustration. When it came to Jensyn Scorpio, it seemed nothing he did was right.

~~*~~

Jensyn heard her phone ringing as she reached her room above Kelly's. Even as crazy as MJ made her, a part of her hoped that was him. The phone was about to ring for the fourth time when she answered the call. "Hello."

"Thank God. Jenny, where the hell have you been?!" Mac thundered. "It's almost 2 in the morning."

"Out," she answered, masking her disappointment as she took a seat on the bed. "What's with the tone, Dad?"

"Out where? You weren't on duty tonight. Your mother and I were worried sick about you. What's wrong with your cell phone?"

"The battery died. Why were you worried?"

Mac glanced over at Dara who was sitting up next to him in bed. "Because we're your parents and worrying is what we do."

"What else?" she wondered.

A few moments of silence pass.

"Daddy does this have anything to do with those mobsters being released tonight?"

Mac wasn't ready to deal with that so he skirted the question. "Jenny, it's late. We just wanted to make sure everything was okay." Dara motions for the phone. "Your mother wants a word with you."

Receiving the phone from Mac, "Is everything alright, Jen?" Dara asked.

"No," Jensyn answered. "What aren't you and Dad telling me?"

"Honey, we told you."

"Mum, 'Because you didn't want me to be alone', isn't going to work this time. There's fifteen messages on my machine and I'm guessing they're all from you and Dad." Well, maybe not all of them, she hoped. "It's late now, but I'm coming over first thing in the morning and when I do, I expect to find out what's going on, and what really brought you two back to Port Charles."

"Tomorrow morning isn't good, Jen. Allison and Kelsey are graduating high school and we promised their parents we'll be there," Dara explained, hoping that would buy her and Mac more time to work on what they were going to say.

"That graduation is at 10:30, I'll be over at 7. Tell Dad I said good night and I'll see you both tomorrow morning."

"Jen I--"

Jensyn hung up before she could hear the rest of the protest she knew her mother would offer.

Dara released a drawn out sigh and after pressing the off button, handed the phone to Mac to place in the charger. "Our days of dodging her questions are over. She'll be here tomorrow morning at seven," Dara shared. "We couldn't avoid this forever."

"I know, and when she finds out I asked Taggert to place her on desk duty she's going to hit the roof," Mac added.

"You really think that's necessary? Jen's a trained police officer, she can take care of herself."

"I don't want to take any chances. Taggert was even thrown by this release, and he's been watching their activity for a while. Who knows what else they'll do and when? I don't want Jenny out on the street; she'll be safer at a desk."

"And while she's brooding at a desk, what are you going to be doing?"

"Whatever I have to. Corinthos is the devil, and he should be in Hell, and if I'm the one who gets to send him there, all the better."

"Mac, I don't like hearing you talk like that."

"I'm just being honest, sweetheart. I won't have Corinthos and his merry band of mayhem makers controlling our lives with fear, not anymore. We came back here to put an end to it, and I plan to do just that."

"Mac," she groaned, growing increasingly uncomfortable with the way he was talking, as she settled under the covers of the bed.

Snuggled spoon-style against her, he placed his chin on her shoulder, "Dara, I promise, I won't strike first. But I swear, the first hint I get that Corinthos or any of the others are making a move towards us well, let's just say they will all become acquainted with some trade secrets from my very distant past."