Title: Birthday Surprise
Author: Ms. Quartermaine
Summary: Tracy is led to believe that her birthday was forgotten, but she couldn't be more wrong.
PART ONE
In her red, silk robe, Tracy Quartermaine tip-toed into the den. She looked at the clock that rested on the mantle. 11:25pm. It was still rather early, but Tracy wanted to sleep. Unfortunately, she couldn't. This night, it had nothing do with her irritating "ghost" of a brother. He surprisingly had decided to "rest in peace" for the time being.
Tracy, however, still couldn't get a moment of rest. Luke had left…again. One day had become two, which had become three, which wasn't surprising. But then, three became four, and eventually, it had been one full week, and still no Luke Spencer, and when she tried to call his cell phone, she got nothing but static.
It was the perfect time for a martini or some scotch. Tracy went to fix herself the former, before stopping herself. She drank enough earlier that evening when she was alone. Monica was at some hospital event. Edward was off on business. Dillon was attempting to win Lulu's affections. Alice, who Tracy had no interest in speaking to, anyway, had the night off. And Ned didn't live with the family. Neither did Emily and Skye, for which Tracy wasn't about to complain about.
As she reached out for the glass, Tracy cringed upon hearing the voice of her brother, "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you. Happy Birthday dear –"
"Stop!" she demanded.
" –dear Tracy. Happy birthday to you!" Alan finished cheerfully.
"Ugh."
"You should be more excited than that. I, after all, am the only one who remembered."
Tracy frowned. She hated her birthday…a lot, but it was still sweet when someone remembered. It was even sweeter when her husband threw her a surprise birthday party, but sadly, her husband was MIA this year.
"So, are you '39' again?" he joked.
"Haha, funny. I thought you were sleeping," she changed the subject.
"I don't ever sleep. My one goal in this life, err, afterlife," he corrected, "is to haunt you—"
"How. Exciting. For. Me," she spit out sarcastically.
"There is a way to solve this problem. All you have to do is confess."
"Which I'll never do."
"So, then I will continue to haunt you and annoy you and –"
"And, what Alan?!"
"Uh, Mom?" Tracy turned around to find her younger son standing in the doorway. "You're, um, doing it again."
She just closed her eyes. It was no longer a secret to Dillon. He knew she was "seeing" Alan. He even used it to her advantage. Tracy would never admit it, but she gave him props for that. Her baby boy finally learned the fundamentals of blackmailing; if only he had "asked" for something better than a date with his stepsister without his mother's interference…
"Mom, you all right?
"She's talking to the furniture," Alan muttered. "What do you think?"
"Shut up!" Tracy screamed at the empty chair.
"Mom!" Dillon shouted.
Tracy swallowed. "I'm fine."
"Uh, I don't think you are, and I won't tell the family, but you really should try being more secretive about this, don't you think? Like, maybe, close the door."
"Dillon, darling, why are you even back?"
"Maybe he's here to blackmail you again," Alan piped in, but Tracy restrained herself.
"I just got back. I know the rest of the family wasn't around, so I was wondering who you were talking to. Well, I mean…," Dillon paused. "I sort of assumed it was 'Uncle Alan,'" he quoted with his fingers. "I, um, just…well…I'm worried about you, Mom, and I wanted to make sure everything was okay," he finished.
"And everything is," she smiled, obviously lying.
Dillon shrugged. "I don't know, Mom. With Uncle Alan gone and Luke leaving town again, I—"
"Luke didn't go anywhere," Luke Spencer appeared in between the foyer and den.
"Goodness!" a horrified Tracy put a hand over her heart. "It's almost midnight. How… Why…Wh…?"
"Aww, did I scare my pretty pink popsicle! I have a key," he dangled it in front of her. "I live here. Remember?"
Tracy regained her breath. "Well, not for the last week, you haven't."
"Tracy, Tracy, Tracy. What did I tell you? You will never come first in Luke's heart." She turned her attention to the chair and narrowed her eyes.
"Spanky, I'm over here."
"Uh, right."
Dillon and Luke exchanged knowingly glances.
"I'm not a nutcase," Tracy said.
"No one said that you were, sweetheart."
"Don't 'sweetheart' me 'til you tell me where you've been."
Luke's eyes twinkled, "That, my dear, is a surprise. You will find out about it very, very soon."
Dillon noticed the suggestiveness in Luke's voice and knew that was his cue to leave. "All right. I'm outta here!" he said disgustedly. "So am I," Alan stated before dissolving into the air.
Tracy let out a sigh.
"Alan giving you trouble, again?" Luke asked, sympathetically.
"More or less," she shrugged. "So…," she changed the subject. "What brings you back to Port Charles at this hour?"
"Again, my sweet, I never left Port Charles."
"Keeping Laura's house warm then?" Tracy raised her voice widened her eyes.
Luke didn't blame her for being angry or suspicious, but he had a good reason for disappearing this time, and Tracy would find out eventually.
"I haven't set foot in Laura's house for the last week. Or Shady Brook for that matter," he added truthfully and firmly.
Tracy blinked and swallowed a chunk of saliva, "I, um, wasn't asking, you know…about that. But, uh, thanks for telling me."
Luke held out his hand, "No problem. Now, let's get you out of this robe and into something even sexier—"
"Wait, what? It's nearly midnight."
"Yep," he glanced at his watch. "Which means we don't have much time left."
"You going to turn into a frog at midnight or something?" She paused and made a face. "Am I mixing up fairytales?"
"I know nothing about fairytales, and I'm surprised that you do," he laughed. "But come on," he urged, excitedly. "Do you need some help?" Luke asked.
"Ha. I'll manage just fine," she smiled beautifully before heading upstairs to her room.
As soon as she was completely out of sight, Dillon returned to the room.
"Awesome job, Young Spielberg. Awesome job," Luke gave him a thumbs up. "This is going to be perfect."