Title: Convergence

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Jason/Sam/Lucky.

Characters: Jason, Sam, Lucky, the Quartermaines, Sonny, Carly, Courtney, and Coleman.

Summary: AU. Two strangers meet and a series of events keep them connected. Sam McCall is in for a bumpy ride. Jason/Sam/Lucky.

Disclaimer: Hah! If I owned General Hospital, things would be SO much different.

"You wanna play a game?"

She didn't know why she had asked the question. From the way this guy hunkered down in his stool, the way his shoulders were hunched, it was pretty clear that he wanted to be left alone.

But hell, Sam wanted to play some pool with a guy who could actually hold his own against her.

He turned to look at her. And just for a second, no, a millisecond, her breath caught in her throat as his blue eyes were pinned on her. Damn. "What? Pool?"

"No," she said, totally dead-pan. "Croquet. Of course pool!"

There was a slight twitch of the mouth at that. "Why me?"

Sam shrugged. "Because so far, everyone else here stinks at it." And God, was that ever true. Unlike most working-class, rundown bars, Jake's was sorely lacking in people with any talent at pool.

An eyebrow was raised. "That so?"

She remained cool. "Well, compared to me they do."

Oh yeah, definitely a slight smirk there. "Alright," he said, sliding off the stool gracefully. "Let's play."

"My name's Sam," she offered as they walked over to the pool table. "Just in case you were wondering."

"I'm Jason."

Jason looked at her warily as she knocked back yet another shot of tequila. "You sure you should be drinking that much?"

Sam laughed, her voice raspy from the liquor and the secondhand smoke wafting around. "Don't worry about me. I can hold my liquor. Your shot."

As he lined it up, she asked, "So, what do you do?"

Blue eyes flickered up to meet her own. "You're not from around here, are you?"

"No," she admitted. "Just passing through." To the next job, the next con, the next way to score some easy cash....

"I import coffee."

"Hmm." As she took her shot, she ignored all the men staring at the strip of tanned skin between the hem of her shirt and her jeans. What Sam didn't ignore was the way Jason looked at it...then looked away. She sunk the ball into the pocket. "Damn, I'm good." She looked over at Jason...and nearly swallowed her tongue as she saw the golden flash of what could only be a wedding ring. "So. You're married?"

Fuck, fuck, and then fuck. Which was apparently something that wasn't happening to her anytime soon. Sam did a lot of things, but one thing she didn't do was married men. She hadn't always walked the walk...but for the most part, adultery was a commandment she didn't break.

One of the few commandments she didn't break.

Jason glanced at the ring as if he was also surprised to see it there. "Not anymore," he said softly, then after a moment, took it off, setting it down carefully on the edge of the table.

"Separated?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Divorced."

"How long?"

He glanced at his watch. "Uhh...about eight hours and 23 minutes."

Sam let out a surprised laugh. "Damn. You really are on the rebound, aren't you?"

He met her gaze, his eyes laid bare. And not for the first time, her breath caught in her throat. Again. "Do you mind?" he asked quietly, his voice soft. Honest.

Sam studied him for a second. The sharpness of his cheekbones...the spiky hair...those blue eyes. "No, I don't mind at all."

The sheets were scratchy. Not that either of them minded too much...they were too spent to worry about the thread count. Sam worried for a second whether she could catch anything from this place...but quickly lost her train of thought as she caught a glimpse of Jason's rock-hard abs. He was leaning back against the headboard, smoking a cigarrette, looking gorgeous and detacted. "Hey," she said. "You okay?"

"Fine," he said curtly as he exhales the smoke.

Sam was a little bit miffed, more at herself for expecting anything more. Christ, what was she expecting, pillow talk? The guy had just gotten divorced. Sam wasn't an idiot, she knew she was nothing more than a quick diversion, a distraction. Something to numb the pain.

No complications, just great sex.

Just the way she liked it.

Usually.

Jason glanced over at her...and Sam couldn't be sure, but she thought his face softened, just a little bit. "You okay?"

"Uh huh," she said, and stretched. "Damn...I don't know why you and your wife split up...but I know it couldn't've been about the sex."

For a moment, Sam's worried that she's gone too far...but Jason's mouth has quirked up again. "Thanks...I guess." He looked at where the swell of her breasts can be seen above the sheet. Not leering, exactly...just looking.

Feeling more emboldened, Sam asked, "So, why did you and your wife split up?"

He paused before answering. "She hated my job."

"Hmm." A workaholic. She wouldn't have pegged him for the type. "Alright." Sam smiled at him slowly, deciding to bring the subject matter around to more pressing matters. "Think you can go another round?"

His mouth on hers...his hot, wandering hands...were all the answer she needed.

The bartender/owner flashed her a sleazy grin as she came downstairs. "Good afternoon, Dollface."

"Don't call me Dollface," she ordered automatically. Jason had left hours ago, but she had stayed in bed, dozing.

Coleman gave her a look. "Now, baby, I'm just worried about you. Sweet little girls like you shouldn't be hanging around the big bad wolves."

"I'm not sweet," Sam said, "and what's wrong with Jason?" Sam was confused. Sure, the guy had just been divorced and was less than forthcoming with any details about his life. And yeah, he wasn't about the facial expressions. And he probably wasn't entirely on the right side of the law. So?

Coleman gave her a quick grin. "Never heard of Jason Morgan? Or Sonny Corinthos?"

"Nope," she said brazenly. "But I bet you're about to fill me in."

Coleman wiped down the bar, still smiling at her. "Darlin', Sonny Corinthos is the mob kingpin of Port Charles. And the guy you were upstairs screwing all night? Well, he's Sonny's right-hand man."

Well, shit.

Sam was trying very hard not to hyperventilate.

Wasn't doing too good a job of that so far.

The mob. Holy shit, Sam had always had a talent for getting into trouble, but damn.

Cody's voice echoed in her head. "If there's one thing I'm gonna teach you, Sammie, it's to stay away from the mob, any mob. Hear me?"

Oh, she'd heard, alright. It was one of the few good pieces of advice Cody had given her. Cody McCall had been a lousy father...but he'd been right on that. Whatever Sam did, she couldn't get involved with the mob. Not unless she actually wanted to end up getting screwed over.

Sam's rules were simple. Don't fuck married men. Stay in control, always. Above all, avoid the mob.

She had to think.

Alright, so Jason was a mob enforcer. Okay. It wasn't that big a deal, wasn't like he was anything more than a one-night stand. She'd leave town and he would stay, and they would both forget about their little encounter. No harm done.

Trouble was, Sam couldn't leave town. Not until she'd found the goddamned treasure that had brought her to this town in the first place. And packing up without finding that damned treasure was unthinkable. No way. Sam had worked far too hard for this to walk away now, simply because she'd happened to sleep with the wrong guy.

So she'd just avoid Jason Morgan from now on. Simple.

TBC...