Chapter Nine: History Lesson 

The first thing noticeable about the room, from the moment Carly lay her hand on 
the doorknob on the other side of the door, was that it was cold. Even though it 
was mid-June, the air conditioning, apparently only recognizing the settings 
"on" and "off", was blasting, bringing the room to a temperature that inspired 
images of walk-in meat freezers. The air was dry and artificial, and Carly 
coughed when she breathed too much of it into her lungs. She dropped her purse 
and the room key onto a chair and wrapped her arms around herself, crossing the 
room as Nikolas pulled the door shut behind them. 

"Charming," she muttered, reaching the single window on the opposite wall. She 
glanced out of it, noting that it overlooked absolutely nothing. It was an anti-
view. 

"We can go somewhere else…" Nikolas' voice seemed empty as he looked around the 
room. It was bare, the definition of simplicity. The bed was in the center of 
the room, across an expanse of a speckled brillo pad industrial carpeting. The 
bed itself was a standard double. The spread was deep beige, and had no pattern. 
The whole room was only remarkable in its lack of character. It was so bland it 
almost wasn't there. This was the definition of inhospitable. And it was yet 
another place where Carly seemed more at ease than he did. More at ease, though 
thoroughly nonplused. 

Nikolas glanced across at Carly, feeling like her mood had cooled with the room. 
This was a mistake. This location… any artificial and temporary location like 
this… It felt wrong. It seemed to give off an implication that he didn't 
support, didn't like the look of. This sort of thing, Nikolas decided, was not 
in his nature. It was not the way he liked to conduct himself. Perhaps it was 
the product of growing up in a house draped in secrecy, but he didn't like to 
keep secrets. For as long as he could remember he'd informed Stefan of his less 
appropriate actions almost immediately upon performing them. He was defiant in 
the cases in which he suspected his uncle would disapprove, and apologetic in 
matters he was certain would cause problems… But he was essentially forthright 
with his family, and for a Cassadine, that was all that mattered. 

Matters of the heart, however, were another matter entirely. They were expected 
to be played close to the vest. You didn't announce these things. They were 
handled discretely and behind closed doors. That, more than anything else, was 
the reason he hadn't wanted to be anywhere with Carly that would involve anyone 
he'd ever seen before. He didn't want to think about it. His attention was on 
her and her alone, and he wanted it to stay that way. 

Carly stood rigid at the window, her stomach having contracted like a fist that 
wouldn't release. She felt incredibly and indescribably alone, with him standing 
just a few feet away, yet not making the slightest move towards her. It made 
everything feel sharper. She could feel everything coming up to the surface the 
longer she stood there. Why couldn't he just do something? Why was he frozen to 
the spot like this? She didn't have the slightest clue how to sway him, how to 
ask him to hold her. But she wanted it. In the coldness, the sterile feeling the 
room was emanating, she wanted more than anything to feel warm. 

Nikolas stared at her, wondering, as always, just how he'd gotten here. It 
didn't make sense. No mood seemed to stick to this girl for more than a moment. 
He'd feel like he'd finally touched her and then the next moment, she'd be cold 
and distant, making him feel like he must be borderline delusional. 

Still. She was here. It had even been her idea. He wasn't imagining that. 

Why did this always happen? How was it that she could so simply reduce him to 
complete paralysis? He was Nikolas Cassadine, for God's sake. 

Nikolas flinched involuntarily at the thought. That used to mean something else 
to him. It had carried a certain sense of infallibility. It didn't hold that 
anymore, its power had crumbled for him. There was a stigma to it now, he felt 
that acutely. He felt an old anger, one he tried to stifle most of the time, 
stir in him, and his face hardened. He hated being affected by that. He hated 
the fact that his identity had been pulled out from under him. And what did it 
matter here, anyway? He could be anyone, here. This wasn't a place anyone ever 
expected to find a Cassadine. He wasn't sure the name even mattered to Carly. In 
fact… She was a Spencer. If his name mattered to her, in any real way, she 
wouldn't even be here. 

Summoning the confidence and self-assurance he was so used to presenting to the 
world, Nikolas started towards her. He stopped right behind her, and listened, 
watched, waiting. Carly seemed to stiffen at his proximity. From his position he 
couldn't see the hand that had been resting on her stomach tighten into a fist. 
Carly closes her eyes, feeling her heart begin to beat faster. Do something, she 
silently pleaded. She couldn't ask for it, not now. Just once she didn't want to 
have to wear her nails to the quick in the act of begging for affection. 

Nikolas breathed in the smell of her. Still like the bar, her hair saturated 
with cigarette smoke. Nothing like it had been the other night. He lifted his 
hand to lay it lightly on her shoulder, then slowly trailing his fingertips down 
her arm… It was the same gesture he had made outside her door the first night 
they slept together, and Carly felt herself nearly buckle with relief. 

"Caroline." 

Carly turned away from the window, slowly, to look at him. Her jaw was still 
tight, her lips pressed together. Her breathing, however, was rapid and uneven, 
giving her away. She felt like she was crumbling inside, like she'd been waiting 
for some place to fall apart and now, whether this was the place or occasion, 
her emotions were beginning to swirl around inside her. She felt her eyes well 
up for what felt like the millionth time that afternoon. She laughed, trying to 
cover. 

"Are you going to keep calling me that?" 

"Do you want me to?" The corners of Nikolas' lips turned up in a very slight 
smile as he looked into her eyes. She wasn't that skilled. This mask, this wall 
she kept trying to put in front of him… It wasn't unscalable. And the way she 
was looking at him… Suddenly she didn't seem so self-contained. He bent his head 
closer to hers, and Carly felt her heart begin to race. He traced his fingers 
along her forearm and Carly tightened her hand, her nails digging into her palm. 
His eyes were locked on hers and she was beginning to feel exposed, like he was 
looking right through her. She wanted to grab onto something desperately, to 
find something to make this safe, protect her. She opened her mouth, attempting 
to answer his question, but he cut her off with a kiss, warm and tender, on her 
parted lips. 

Carly closed her eyes immediately, and wound her arms around his neck. He was 
kissing her so softly, his lips brushing against hers lightly, not allowing 
himself to really sink into the embrace with her. Carly found herself smiling, 
emulating him at first, then dragging her tongue, teasingly along his lower lip. 
Nikolas slid his hand around the back of her neck, running his knuckles from the 
nape of her neck down to her collarbone. Carly tipped her head back in response 
and Nikolas finally closed in, kissing her sensuously, moving his hands down her 
back to grip her waist. 

It was impossible for him to comprehend, when she was in his arms like this, 
that she was ever anything else besides soft and delicate. There wasn't a hint 
of her prickly and protective nature, the way she seemed to fight against him 
constantly. Instead she seemed open and genuine, safe. His brain told him it was 
a dangerous place, a hazardous thought to allow himself, but he was having a 
hard time caring. The kiss came to a natural end and Nikolas pulled back. 

"God, it's cold," Nikolas breathed. Carly laughed, a short burst. She pressed 
her forehead against his. 

"These are the kinds of problems I know how to solve." 

Carly slid her arms slowly down from his neck and took his hands in hers, 
removing them from her waist. Nikolas smiled at her, slightly confused, but 
trusting, and she lead him towards the bathroom, dropping his hands to open the 
door. 

The bathroom was not particularly spacious, in fact it matched the room 
perfectly in that it did not draw attention to itself in any way. It contained 
the bare essentials… sink without accompanying counter, toilet, and shower. The 
shower was enclosed in a small box, with a lip at the bottom to herd spilling 
water back to he drain in the center and a skimpy, mostly decorative, curtain. 

"Close the door," Carly instructed, moving towards the shower. Nikolas shrugged, 
pulling the door shut behind them. 

Carly studied the control, a large, single knob, mounted on the tile, and 
twisted it to the far right, pulling it out from the wall, so that the shower 
head sputtered, then began to spill out quickly heating water, causing Carly to 
jump back quickly, her shirt splattered. She turned back to Nikolas, shaking 
drops of water out of her hair. 

"There. Heat," she grinned. Nikolas leaned back against the wall and crossing 
his arms. 

"Brilliant." 

In the enclosed space, the steam rose quickly, spilling out over the top of the 
curtain and seeping out from the sides, filling the room in the amount of time 
it took for Carly to make her way across the tiny room, back to Nikolas. She 
slid her arms around his waist, leaning against him. 

"Better?" Carly asked, kicking off her sandals, and sending them skittering 
across the floor. Nikolas leaned down and kisses her deeply. 

"Much." 

The steam soon clouded the mirror over the sink and made the tiled floor slick. 
Carly and Nikolas fell into a rhythm, slow and soft liquid kisses, gently 
running their hands over each other, adjusting to the environment, of how close 
and intimate it was, to be alone with nothing but the sound of the water pelting 
against the tile. 

Carly pulled back first, crossing her arms and grabbing the hem of her T-shirt 
to pull it, recklessly, over her head. She tossed it aside, paying no attention 
to where it chose to land. Nikolas grinned at her and she slid back into his 
arms, kissing him deeply, while his hands located and fumbled with the clasp on 
her bra. 

They undressed each other, letting articles of clothing drop to the floor 
without concern, enjoying exploring each new part of each other as it was 
revealed. The steam surrounding them made everything feel other worldly, like 
they were somewhere up in clouds, hovering away from everyone and everything. 
Carly felt infected by the way Nikolas was kissing her, how gentle and teasing 
it was, like he was honestly enjoying it, being with her, discovering her. There 
was a sense of playfulness in the way he touched her, and it was disarming her 
completely. 

Carly grabbed Nikolas' hands again, smiling at him her eyes bright and spirited, 
and started to pull him towards the shower. She reached in blindly and wrenched 
the knob back to the left, diminishing the heat blasted from the cell. She 
wrapped her arms around Nikolas again, sliding them into his damp hair, and 
closed in to continue kissing him, revealing in how familiar it was becoming, 
the taste of him, the fullness of his lips against hers. She didn't want it to 
end, she realized. She could stay here forever, in this exact moment, her heart 
beating, constantly battling to keep a goofy grin from spreading across her 
face. She was dangerously close to feeling happy. 

Nikolas lifted Carly over the lip of the shower, without bothering to pull the 
curtain aside and stumbled, falling against the opposite wall. The water 
pressure was so extreme it was almost assault-like and Carly let out a shriek, 
laughing as they tried, without moving away from each other, to untangle 
themselves from the curtain. They managed somehow, and Carly pulled the curtain 
shut firmly, then pressed Nikolas against the wall. 

"I guess this is something you haven't tried either," she taunted, breathless. 
Nikolas smoothed her hair, all ready saturated with water, away from her face 
and lowered his head to catch the rivers of water spilling along her face and 
down her neck. 

"I'm a quick study." 

Carly arched her head back, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

"I think," she mused, "we could have a lot of fun together." 

~*~*~ 

Laura Spencer started at the sound of the front door slamming. She cringed, then 
leaned back over her books, continuing with her notes. 

"Darlin'?" 

"I'm in the kitchen," Laura called, not looking up. Why was it every time she 
sat down to do some actual work something interrupted her? The door to the 
kitchen swung open and Luke entered, making a beeline to the fridge. 

"Whatcha doing?" he asked, with only the vaguest interest. 

"I'm…" she stopped, realizing that her own interest wasn't that great. She 
pushed the books away. "Never mind. My head is pounding," she told him, setting 
her elbows on the table and rubbing her temples. "How was lunch with Bobbie?" 

"That girl…" he growled, pulling a bottle of beer out from behind the milk, "Is 
on a set course for self destruction, and she's going to pull Barbara right down 
with her." 

Laura sat back in her chair, stretching her neck. "What did she do now?" 

"She turned down the job, for starters." 

"Well, you knew she was going to do that." 

Luke kicked the fridge door closed, opening the beer in a fluid gesture. "Yeah, 
called that one. Then she started in on that damn trial again." 

Laura sighed heavily. "Luke…" 

"The girl will NOT except help. From anyone. Then when things fall apart on her, 
she starts pointing fingers anywhere she can." 

Laura stared at the tabletop. She never had an answer to this. She didn't know 
Carly nearly well enough to start making appraisals to her mental health… though 
it did seem shaky… and their was simply no comforting Luke on the subject of the 
trial. There never would be. The fact that the Quartermaines had called victory 
over the Spencers was something she was sure would always stick in his craw. 

"It is very difficult to lose a child," she said quietly, allowing the slightest 
edge to creep into her voice. Luke chose to ignore the implication, and spun a 
chair around sitting down, back to front. She glanced up at him and gave him a 
tired smile. "She just… She just can't let go of it." 

"She didn't LOSE him. She…" he shook his head, with mounting anger, and took a 
swig of the beer before slamming it down on the table. "She should have trusted 
us." 

"She didn't. It's that simple." 

Luke glared at the opposite wall. "Family is family. Did she think I wanted a 
rabid pack of Quartermaines raising my great-nephew? She should have trusted 
us." 

Laura closed her eyes, her mind wandering back to the trial. She'd been… 
Preoccupied at the time, what with the mess her family had fallen into. Lucky 
had still been living hand to mouth, anywhere that wasn't near family, Nikolas 
had been in the wringer over the revelation of his paternity, and she and Luke… 
Well, that had been strained, at best. Carly's trial over Michael had not been 
first on her list on priorities… Luke's either. Back ground noise, it had felt 
like at first. After all, Carly always had Jason in her corner. Then, 
inexplicably, that had fallen through. And suddenly Bobbie had appeared as 
Carly's only champion. That was where Luke had come in. 

To say Carly had been hostile to Luke's involvement was to put it mildly. In 
fact, you could even go as far as to say she'd actively sabotaged it. She hadn't 
trusted him. She refused to believe that he wasn't out to get her. It had been 
some of the most irrational logic she'd ever heard in her life, and that was 
saying a lot. But Laura had seen beneath it. Really, in the end, the poor girl 
had just been frightened out of her mind. All that mattered was hanging onto her 
son, and Laura had to respect that. She'd felt remorseful that she hadn't fought 
with equal ardor to keep Nikolas. 

The fact of the matter was, if Carly had let herself trust Luke, the outcome 
might have been different. But she rejected every overture she made, and refused 
to listen to his warnings. And the Quartermaines kept playing trick after trick, 
each more vicious than the last, until Carly appeared hysterical and unbalanced 
at the trial. That was compounded by the state appointed psychiatrist the judge 
had ordered her to see. Once he diagnosed her as bipolar, everything fell apart. 
Luke had been certain that it was a set up… though he was the first person to 
admit Carly was an extreme personality, there was no way he was naming any 
Spencer "crazy" or even chemically unbalanced. It was unacceptable. 

The diagnosis was eventually overturned, but Carly was still ruled unfit, mostly 
on the strength of her erratic behavior in the courtroom. Add in a stay in a 
psychiatric institution for shooting her ex-lover, and it became surprising… a 
triumph, even… that she had been granted visiting rights at all. Laura looked 
back at Luke, sadly. 

"You did everything you could," she soothed. Luke's jaw tightened. Therein lay 
the problem. Everything he could, and it still wasn't good enough. They knew the 
psychiatrist and judge had most likely been paid off, but that didn't matter to 
Luke. Though he never used words like hero to describe himself, Laura knew, with 
absolute certainty, that he considered it his job to rescue the people in his 
life. To protect them. And he'd failed with Carly… which meant he'd failed 
Bobbie. She slid her chair over, closer to him, and put her arm around his 
shoulders, leaning her forehead against the rough stubble on his cheek. 

"Some people just don't want to be saved." 

~*~*~

"I want to see you see you again." 

Carly lay on the bed with her head nestled just under Nikolas' rib cage, letting 
herself be lulled by the gentle rising and falling of his diaphragm. His hand 
was gently combing through her still-wet hair, his concentration on this action 
so that he would not have to think too much about what he just said. Carly 
didn't stir, digesting the words she'd begun to suspect where coming. She 
brought her hand up from around his waist and lay them on top of one another on 
the base of his sternum, rested her chin on the back of them. 

"I guess that's kinda inevitable," she said, heavily. She didn't want to think 
too much about what that meant. 

"Just you. Alone." 

Carly smiled, and pressed her lips against her knuckles. "I assumed." 

Nikolas continued running his fingers through her hair, examining the way it 
darkened when wet, making the separate strips appear to be different colors. It 
still felt a little warm, even in the chill of the room… the temperature of 
which no longer felt so sharp, most probably because they had both adjusted to 
it, finding it was not so bad, once you got in. 

"We could have dinner," Nikolas murmured. Carly started. She looked up at him, 
instinctively checking to see if he was kidding. He must be kidding. Either 
that, or he was out of his mind. She narrowed her eyes at him. 

"Why?" 

Nikolas strained to look down at her. "Because I want to know about you." 

"Well," Carly said heavily, rolling away from him "You can know about me right 
now, if you want." 

Nikolas, sensing this was somehow a "Danger" area, rolled over onto his side, 
propping himself up on his elbow. 

"All right. Then tell me about yourself," he challenged. 

Carly rolled her eyes. "What do you want to know? I'm twenty-six, I'm from 
Florida, and my life is going nowhere REAL fast… you?" 

Nikolas stared at a strip of hair that had stuck to her cheek, the end just 
reaching the corner of her mouth. 

"Twenty-one and Greek… But otherwise, the same." 

Carly laughed, deep in her throat. "Your life is going to an entirely different 
nowhere than mine is, believe me." 

"How do you figure that?" 

Carly looked up at Nikolas, to see if he was serious. He looked back at her, his 
expression brooding, his dark eyes appearing to be endless as he stared down at 
her. She rolled her eyes dramatically. 

"Is this a game?" 

"Sure. Why should it be any different than the rest of our conversations?" 

Carly laughed, and rolled over on her side to face him, imitating his posture. 
"The boy has bite," she teased, wrinkling her nose. "You know, I wouldn't have 
guessed that at first sight." 

"There are lots of things about you I wouldn't have guessed at first sight 
either. I'm glad I kept looking". 

Carly's face clouded, and she looked away. "You don't know me, Nikolas. Not 
really." 

"Would it surprise you if I said I wanted to?" 

Carly studied the top sheet. "I'd want to know why." 

Nikolas sighed heavily and rolled onto his back. "All right, I can answer that." 
He laced his fingers together and tucked his hands under his head. "I've had 
what they call a "sheltered" life. You probably already guessed that." 

"Yeah," Carly smiled wryly. "There was the occasional clue… here and there." 

Nikolas glanced over at her. "Do you want to hear this?" 

Carly cocked her head to one side and twisted her mouth, in an expression of 
deep thought. "Yeah," she said finally. "Let me have it." 

Nikolas gave her a look that let her know, in no uncertain terms, that he knew 
she was playing with him. 

"I was saying," he started again, "That I had a very sheltered… by that I mean 
controlled… life. They… my family… they already knew what I was when I was born. 
What I was going to be. So from the moment I came into being they started to… 
Groom me, for lack of a better word. To be "The Cassadine". The Prince. The last 
Prince." Nikolas turned his eyes to the ceiling, staring at it in deep 
contemplation. Carly watched him, not wanting, for once, to interrupt him. 
Finally, he drew a deep breath into his lungs. "My grandmother had one idea… my 
father had another. Since my father was masquerading as my UNCLE back then, he 
had to fight to make sure his way prevailed. And it did. So I was raised the way 
he wanted, to believe in the same things, the same ideals, he did. And I studied 
Latin, and fencing and business… All the things I should know to lead the family 
the way he felt it should be led." 

Nikolas stopped and pressed his lips together. His voice had remained so steady 
while she spoke, that it had almost been a monotone. Like a speech he's recited 
many times to many people… the most important audience being himself. Carly 
reached out, hesitantly, and brought her hand to his cheek. Nikolas blinked, 
tears she hadn't even seen pooling escaping his eyes and moving quickly down his 
face. He turned and looked for her. 

"They told me," he said, stoically, "My whole life, they told me who I was. And 
it was a lie. So now… Everything I was I'm not. And I'm realizing that there is 
a lot of stuff out there that I never looked at, since it wasn't who I was. 
Well. Now it's time to take a closer look at it." 

Carly felt her heart drop suddenly and without warning into her stomach. She 
looked away from him quickly, pulling her hand back. She felt sick, panicked, a 
sudden need to be anywhere but here. She sat up, pulling away, but Nikolas 
caught her arm. 

"Don't," his tone was short, emotionless. She froze, then turned back to him 
slowly. He was leaning back on one elbow, his other hand gripping her. She gazed 
at him a long moment before he spoke, his voice slow and methodical. "Please, 
don't." 

Carly shook her head hard, pulling her hand out of his grasp, and wrapping both 
around her stomach. She leaned forward, letting out a long and ragged breath, 
but made no further move to leave. 

"I was in the eight grade before I found out that Virginia Benson wasn't really 
my mother." She feels her mouth twist, of it's own accord, into a familiar 
bitter smile. "I never even… I never imagined. She had a picture, cut out of a 
newspaper of me as a baby, and she used to show it to me all the time… tell me 
how important I was. It was all a lie," she turned her head to look back at him, 
over her shoulder. "Can you imagine? Going that far just so that a kid doesn't 
know that they're adopted? Do you know how dirty that made me feel? I thought… 
God, I thought "adopted" must have been the worst thing in the world to be. If 
it had to be covered up like that, to be hidden from everyone, then it must be 
the worst thing in the world." 

Nikolas looked at Carly in silent understanding, saying nothing. She smiled 
slightly. "I guess she was just scared. But that wasn't what it felt like. And 
after I found out, she didn't want to talk about it. So we never did. Never." 

Carly brought her knees up, under the covers, to her chest, and she rested her 
chin against them, frowning. Here she was, again, talking about something she 
NEVER spoke about. She felt the bed jiggle, and then Nikolas' hand flat on her 
back, sliding up and down her spine in a soothing gesture. She started to lean 
back and his arm moved around her shoulder, clasping her upper arm and pulling 
her back onto the bed with him, lying against his chest. She closed her eyes, 
bringing her hand up to close around his wrist, letting herself lie cradled in 
his arms. 

"We have too much in common, Nikolas," she whispered, turning her face against 
his chest. 

"Who would have imagined," he responded, his voice less steady. They lay in 
silence, wrapped in each other, until Carly shifted, rolling herself over so 
that her head was nestled against his shoulder, her arms circling his rib cage. 
She felt his arms tighten around her. 

"I'll see you again," she murmured softly. Nikolas realized, at her words, that 
he hadn't thought that she wouldn't. He was slightly disturbed to think that 
she'd just made up her mind to do so. 

"All right." 

Carly slid one hand up to caress his shoulder. "But… This could get really…" 

"We don't have to let anyone know." 

Carly nodded, her eyes still closed. She didn't want anyone to know, she was 
realizing. She wanted this to belong to her. The idea of anyone else, 
particularly her family, getting involved in this, was unthinkable. 

"Do you know anything about sailing?" 

Carly laughed softly. "I repeat… I'm from Florida." She raised her head and 
looked at him. "Why?" 

Nikolas brought a hand up to gently caress her face, studying it as if it was 
the most incompressible thing he'd ever come across, making this words sound 
secondary and unimportant. "I bought a sailboat…" he let his voice trail off a 
long moment, looking at her in a way that made it difficult for Carly to really 
listen to what he was saying. 

"Oh?" she cringed inwardly at the high and distracted tone of her voice. 

"We could take it out for a maiden voyage… no one could bother us," he smiled 
crookedly. "No air conditioning, either." 

"Sounds…" Carly exhaled heavily. "Perfect." 

Nikolas leaned in and kissed her softly. He pulled back, looking deeply into her 
eyes. 

"Then it's a date."