Disclaimer: The usual, I claim no ownership only abuse privileges.

Steph's Babble: This was written in response to a Flash Fiction challenge. You were given a word, in this case Truth and had an hour to write your fic. It had to have a beginning, a middle, and an end. This is what rolled out of me. It's a nice little ride I hope you like it. I will admit that I cleaned up the typos before posting it here, but other than that it's how I wrote it Saturday.

Clarification: Forget everything you think you know about the characters that live in Port Charles, because they don't apply here.

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Truth or Dare

~Jake's~

Elizabeth was drunk. At least she thought she was. Then again she didn't even know if she still had the capacity to think, but she felt drunk. The smoke filled room was doing a nice little circle, round and round, and…

Well enough of that.

Reaching out she picked up the shot glass in front of her and magically was able to bring it to her lips. Downing the liquid in one large swallow the fiery taste didn't even make her lips pucker anymore. Yes she was definitely drunk. But that was okay with her. This whole night was supposed to be about new experiences, and being drunk was definitely a new experience.

Her attention was caught by the loud, husky laugh of her best friend. Squinting through the haze she spotted the familiar blonde head, and even more familiar wide-open mouth. Carly Roberts was doing one of the things she did best, she was talking. No Elizabeth corrected herself with a shake of her head, sending her unruly mass of dark curls dancing in different directions. Carly was holding court. Carly was the leader of the group. Brenda said it was because she had the biggest mouth of all of them, which in fact she did, but that was beside the point. Normally it was Carly's plans that they followed, much to the dismay of their family and friends, and occasionally the police.

Tilting her head she looked at the exotic girl next to the Carly. The striking girl with the beautiful braids, was always wearing the latest and greatest in fashion, never a hair or a spot out of place. But at the moment Gia Campbell was about three inches off the table, and doing her best to get the liquid from her glass into her mouth. Her once immaculate appearance was dirty with chalk dust, chili, and god only knows what else. But at the moment Gia could care less, Elizabeth could tell that much from the laughter coming from the taller girl's mouth. Tomorrow Gia would be on a warpath, but tonight she was just one of the gang.

Her somewhat fuzzy focus moved onto the brunette on the other side of Gia. Emily Quartermaine was watching the rest of the people at the table with a smirk on her face. Elizabeth knew that Emily was just filing away everything that was said and done away, to be used at a later date. Emily said blackmailing ran in the family, so she'd come by the trait naturally. However she'd come across the talent she was good. She had saved their bacon on more than one occasion. She was the only reason the Five Terrors as they were affectionately and condemningly known had made it out of high school, much less college.

Every group had to have a beauty queen and Brenda Barrett certainly fulfilled that role. A part-time model since the age of 14, Brenda was gorgeous. She was also neurotic, bitchy, obsessive, desperate, and at times downright cranky, in other words she fit in just perfectly. Her and Carly seemed to have a different competition going every day of the week. It was fun to watch, but could be deadly if you got caught in the middle of them.

Which brought Elizabeth back to herself, the mutt of the group. The fifth terror, which at the moment probably couldn't terrorize a cocker spaniel. They were an odd group, but one that had been forged out of necessity. Each had felt the lack of love when growing up and each had created their own family because of it. And in every family there was the good. There was the bad. And then there was the ugly. And the ugly was what was staring her in the face.

"Truth or dare Elizabeth?" The voice repeated.

Closing her eyes she tried to banish the voice, and the face that went with it. Carly's cousin, Lucky Spencer was the ugly in her life, in all of their lives. She'd known him since she was 11, and couldn't wait until she never saw him again. But she had the uncomfortable feeling that like cockroaches, and Cher Lucky would survive anything, including a nuclear war.

"Elizabeth?"

"What?" Elizabeth snapped a little crankily.

"Your turn truth or dare?" Lucky repeated.

Looking carefully around the table she caught sight of the grins on most of the people's faces. Grins she could handle, but the three faces that worried her, didn't have grins on their faces, they had smirks. When Carly smirked, it meant she was up to something. When Nikolas Cassadine smirked it meant he was about to pull the rug out from under you. And when Lucky smirked it was a hideous sight.

Narrowing her eyes when she saw the challenge in Carly's eyes. Elizabeth downed the next shot of tequila and slammed it on the table. "Dare."

"Alright you have to find a man in this bar and kiss him. You can't say a word to him beforehand you just have to kiss him." Lucky outlined the dare.

"That's it?" Elizabeth repeated, sure she'd missed something that was too easy.

"That's it. Just find a man and kiss him," Lucky sat back in his seat. "Of course it has to be on the lips and last at least 10 seconds."

Her focus shifted to the bar and it's occupants. The docks must have just closed because the bar was suddenly full of guys. Most of them were rather big, and smelly she could tell that from where she was sitting. Wrinkling her nose at the sight and smell of a particularly rank fellow sitting behind her, she shifted her focus outward.

At the dartboard were the rednecks. The loudly repetitive "Yee-Haw's" every time one of them managed to actually hit the board with the dart gave them away. One of the guys dropped his dart and when he went to pick it up he provided the room an excellent view of the fact he wasn't wearing any underwear. Definitely not her type.

Moving on her focus went to the pool table. If there were anyone in this bar who were worthy of kissing, they were at the table. She'd known that all along. Tall men, good-looking men, with strong muscular bodies and close-cropped hair were at the table. And what a sight it was to see. The aura they gave off was danger, everyone knew who they were and whom they worked for and that just added to the appeal.

She looked back at her companion's and her eyes met Carly's. Carly leaned forward and spoke the words that sealed her fate.

"I double-dog-dare-you."

It was a little known quirk of hers. But Elizabeth couldn't back down from a dare if her life depended on it, and Carly knew that. "I hate you," Elizabeth grumbled, grabbing the blonde's drink she drank the shot of tequila down in an attempt for Dutch courage, and then got to her feet. The room spun once, then twice, but thankfully it decided to settle upright. "Purse," she ordered holding out her hand.

Nikolas put her purse in her hand and watched in fascination as Elizabeth dug inside of it until she unearthed some Binaca breath spray. Spraying two squirts in her mouth, Elizabeth next opened her compact to check her appearance. But the alcohol and the small mirror made it impossible to see anything. Slapping the compact closed with a sigh she thrust her purse in Lucky's direction catching him in the back of the head with it.

"Anytime you'd like to kiss someone," Carly prodded.

Elizabeth paused by her friend's chair. "You do realize I'm next don't you? And I have so much on you that it won't matter if you choose truth or dare. You're screwed."

"To get to me you have to fulfill your dare," Carly retorted sweetly.

Moving slowly Elizabeth gave herself plenty of time to size up her quarry. Of the four men playing pool only one caught her eye. He'd caught it before dozen's of times. She knew his name was Jason and he was trouble with a capital T. But there was something about him. It was something with the catlike way he moved. Always on the balls of his feet almost like a dancer, smooth, fluid, no wasted motion.

The notion of him actually being a dancer was laughable. His dress of well-worn jeans, black motorcycle boots, tight T-shirts, was definitely not that of a dancer. But the clothes fit him. Strong-muscular things led into narrow hips, and to an ass that just begged to be touched, caressed. His chest was ribbed, lined some with muscles, you could see that through the tight T-shirts he seemed to favor. He always seemed to have a tan no matter what time of year, and his arms were muscular and well defined. His hands, God his hands were large, with long fingers, no doubt very talented fingers.

She'd never heard him speak, so she had to guess about the voice. But the smile, that maddening half smile that he seemed to have on his face a lot, drew her in every time. The way his eyes seemed to be lit from within, like he knew something that no one else did. She always wondered what was going on behind those eyes, but she never got close enough to ask. He was one of the dangerous ones.

Dangerous was what Carly and Brenda did. Dangerous was what she normally stayed away from. She was the smart one, the quiet one. The one, that tried to keep the others out of trouble. But tonight was a night for new experiences and a little bit of dangerous wouldn't be that bad now would it?

Luck seemed to be with her, because her quarry began moving in her direction, no doubt heading to the bar for a refill. She knew that Lucky and the others expected her to back out. The Elizabeth they knew would never kiss a total stranger in a bar. And they would be right to think that, the Elizabeth they knew probably never would. But that Elizabeth wasn't here at the moment.

Maybe it was the tequila.

Maybe it was the relief of finally graduating college.

Maybe it was the fact the Five Terrors were finally coming to an end, and real life began tomorrow.

Maybe it was Carly's double dog dare you ploy.

Maybe it was the fact he was the best looking man she'd ever seen and this would probably be the only time she would ever be close enough to a god to kiss one.

Or maybe it was time she let go, lived a little and embraced the danger.

Whatever the reason, she stepped in his path, stopping him in his tracks. Closing the distance between them, her eyes remained locked on his. Maybe he was curious, or maybe he was amused, whatever the reason he didn't back out of her way. She kept moving until she was right in front of him, her head coming to his chin. Angling her head she looked up at him, the same time her hand slid up that muscular arm of his, to the back of his neck, until she could feel the softness of his hair under her fingers.

When he opened his mouth, she brought her finger up to his mouth, and placed it over his soft lips, stopping the words from forming. Perhaps he realized her intent because his eyes seemed to change, the focus in them taking on that one of a dare.

She could never say no to a dare.

Cupping the back of his head she brought his mouth down to hers. His lips covered hers and she dimly heard someone from her table say the number 1, followed by 2, and then she heard nothing because he had decided to kiss her back.

She'd never believed in all that junk that the romance books touted, about a kiss making the world change. A kiss was a simple connection between two people nothing overly romantic. You couldn't go haywire just because of a kiss. Or so she'd thought. Because as trite as it sounded that was exactly what was happening.

When his lips took possession of hers, all the stuff she'd read about began to happen to her. Her heart seemed to pound so loud and so hard it was a wonder it didn't come out of her chest. The air backed up in her lungs, and the blood seemed to roar through her veins. Her arms fell from his neck and she would have fallen herself, if his hands hadn't been on her back, pulling her closer, molding her body to his.

Her mouth opened under his assault and he took advantage, his tongue stormed inside like a conquering hero. His hand buried in the mass of curls at her neck and angled her head, pulling her closer until she was on her toes, deepening the kiss. A denim clad thigh moved in between hers until she straddled it.

Finding her strength again, the kiss broke long enough for them to take a quick breath then his mouth was on hers again. Her hands moved from his neck, down his back, before coming to rest on his ass. Feeling bolder than ever, she squeezed his ass and he ground against her hard in reaction.

She felt his hands on the heated skin of her back and didn't care that they were in the middle of a bar, with everyone in the place watching them. The whistles and catcalls drifted to her ears but were muted, everything seemed to be muted except for the man who was kissing her. She never wanted it to stop. She never wanted him to stop touching her, kissing her, wanting her. Because she knew he did, she could feel that.

She wanted to throw him down on the ground and take him.

She wanted him to throw her on the ground and take her.

It didn't matter if they had an audience of one, one hundred, or none. She had just discovered she liked the way dangerous tasted and she wanted another taste and another and another.

Reality set in when he broke the kiss. Mourning the loss of those strong, but soft lips, she buried her face in his neck and tried to remember how to breathe. The sound of clapping and whistles came again, and she felt her face flame. His hands tightened on her briefly, then let go, when she pulled away. Keeping her eyes closed, she took a breath and then another trying to calm her heart rate.

Thinking she might have achieved that impossible feat, she opened her eyes and met his, immediately sending her pulse sky-rocketing again. Opening her mouth she nervously wet her lips trying to think of something to say. His eyes darkened even more and followed the movement of her tongue.

"Thanks," she murmured in a husky voice, she just discovered she had. "I needed that."

Amusement flickered in his eyes and he nodded at her.

Doing her best to remain upright Elizabeth turned away, hoping to get away before she made an ass out of herself by either jumping him in the middle of the bar, falling at his feet and begging him to take her home with him, or just plain passing out in ecstasy. She staggered a few steps to her table, and the people there that were watching her with a mixture of awe and disbelief. All except for Carly who was grinning like she was the one who'd just had her mouth savaged in the middle of the bar by a god.

"What?" Lucky swallowed hard and tried again. "You just kissed him."

"I know," Elizabeth sunk into her chair in relief, she didn't think her legs would support her much longer.

"But how?"

"With my lips Lucky," she answered in irritation.

"I know that, but why?" The boy wailed.

"You dared me too Lucky." Elizabeth explained.

"I dared you to kiss someone I figured you'd chose me," Lucky explained lamely.

Picking up her drink Elizabeth let out a loud laugh. "Lucky you dared me to kiss a man, not a boy. So that's what I did." Tossing back the liquid she tried to cool herself off by fanning herself. "My turn."

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Elizabeth moved out of the bathroom slowly. It was still too warm in this place, her face was flushed, her heart rate was still going a mile a minute. She'd excused herself to go to the bathroom as soon as she could. She had to see if her lips had been branded, because the lingering imprint of his lips still seemed to be on hers. She wondered if it was visible or not. Sadly, other than her lips being slightly swollen they looked how they always looked.

Moving past the telephone on the wall she was about to head back into the bar when someone stepped out of the shadows at the end of the hall and caught her attention.

Jason.

The man she'd kissed, the man who seemed to have branded her moved closer. Nervous though she was Elizabeth held her position and watched him stalk closer. She was right when she'd compared him to a cat.

Coming to a halt directly in front of her, close enough that if she took a deep breath her chest would be touching his he looked down into her upturned face. "Truth or dare?" He asked in a voice that fit the sinful appearance of the man.

Dangerous had never looked so good.

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