"The Gift": Analysis of "The Gift" Arc of ABC-TV's Port Charles
(c) Alison Armstrong
An analysis of the "The Gift" episodes of the show Port Charles, formerly of ABC-TV. This site will focus on the scenes featuring the vampire character
Caleb Morley/Stephen Clay (portrayed by actor Michael Easton). The character of Caleb Morley/Stephen Clay and any other characters relating to Port
Charles are the property of ABC and their creators. This is a fan-run site and is not an official site, nor is it affiliated in any way with ABC, Port Charles, or
the actors portraying any of the Port Charles characters. No copyright infringement is intended. The writings on this site are copyrighted by the author,
Alison Armstrong, and may not be reproduced without the author's express permission.
"The Gift" #4 (cont.)
“I don’t care what kind of time you’re having,” Jack grumbles, trying to impose his authority upon a man greatly
his superior in strength, seductiveness, and charisma.
“No, you look,” Caleb cautions, his voice a throaty whisper, his smile hardening into a challenging smirk. “I said
we’re having a good time, now get lost before I lose my temper.” He briefly touches Jack’s shoulder, as if
reminding Jack of the bond they once shared, the bond between a master vampire and a reluctant fledgling. Jack
was to be his blood-brother, his pupil, but, rejecting his gift, Jack futilely tried to destroy him. In comparison to
Caleb, Jack would always be, in Caleb’s words, a “little man,” a cuckold whose girlfriends would always choose
the sexier, stronger, much more seductive rival.
Snappies of "The Gift" scenes
taken by A. Armstrong
“Fine, have it your way, Caleb,” Jack relents. As the female vampires caress Caleb’s hair, longing to touch and
taste much more, Jack walks over to the bar and makes a phone call to Livvie.
“If you want to find Caleb, you better get down to the Elixir, and fast,” Jack advises, then hangs up the phone.
“You’re going to have a harder time handling her than you are me, Caleb,” Jack mutters, watching the vampires
writhing and entwining as the music pulsates intoxicatingly around them.
“You are so scrumptious,” one of them murmurs.
“I’d love to take a great big bite out of you,” another swoons.
“I wouldn’t mind a nibble myself,” the third remarks, and Caleb, like a silky cat, tingles to their touch. His lips
are pressed lightly against a delectable neck when Livvie enters the room.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, addressing Caleb with a sultry yet insolent gaze.
“There’s room for one more,” he taunts.
“No, thanks, I think I’ll make some fun of my own,” she replies, sashaying towards a bench and sitting down.
A man asks her to dance, but she politely declines, preferring to dance by herself, for herself and for Caleb’s