They left a trail of clothing through Kevin's living room and down the hallway, if one could really call a fur coat and a Santa suit clothing. Fortunately, Laura was well past caring about semantics. Her mind had conveniently forgotten most of the words it knew shortly after Kevin got his hands underneath that ridiculous coat, his touch quickly reducing her vocabulary to the necessities: Kevin, now, and please. She wasn't sure how much of that had actually come out aloud, but he'd obviously understood the gist.

By the time they fell together onto his bed, they were both naked, and the warmth of his bare body settling against hers was enough to make her breathless. She had missed this, missed him, more than she'd allowed herself to admit. The single night they'd spent together months ago had awakened something inside her that had been in hibernation for a long time, and afterward she'd been dismayed to find that it didn't want to go back to its cave. Tonight it was very much awake again, and it definitely remembered Kevin.

She had almost managed to convince herself, actually, that her imagination must have turned that night into more than it was. Because first times just weren't like that. People had to learn each other. They didn't just magically know-

Then Kevin did one of those things he'd just magically known, sinking his fingers into her hair and tilting her head back to kiss his way down her neck, and Laura gave up on analyzing the experience and let herself just enjoy it. God, he was good at this. Good and confident and not afraid to let her feel a little of his strength, which was a thing that turned her on hard. She didn't like it rough, but she didn't like to be treated like she was made of spun glass, either, and Kevin fell in just the right place along that spectrum, his touch firm enough to assure her that she could let go and trust him to catch her.

Which he did, later, when his kiss and his knowing touch and the fullness of him inside her finally pushed her over the edge. She shook and cried out and clutched at him, and Kevin held her tightly, anchoring her through it even as he shuddered with the power of his own release. He didn't drop the ball afterward, either, rolling away to deal with the condom with a minimum of fuss and returning to gather her into his arms and cradle her against his chest. Laura let herself melt against him, feeling warm and sated and more relaxed than she'd been in years.

"You know," she eventually murmured without opening her eyes, "this turned out spectacularly well for an evening that started with me flashing Santa."

Kevin's answering laugh shook both of them. "It really did, didn't it?"

"Mm-hmm." She snuggled even closer to him and nuzzled his shoulder. "And you give really good afterglow, by the way. I don't think I mentioned that the first time."

"I've never really thought of afterglow as a thing one gives," he answered, sounding amused. "Is it actually possible to be bad at this part?"

Laura pushed herself up on her elbow to give him a look.

Kevin's brows rose. "Taking that as a yes," he said.

She started to respond, but her stomach beat her to the punch, growling loudly enough to be unbelievably embarrassing.

But Kevin took it in stride, smiling and saying, "I'm hungry, too. Now could I talk you into letting me cook you dinner?"

"I think you could probably manage that, yes," she answered, knowing she was blushing.

He pushed himself up to mirror her position and leaned in until their noses nearly touched, looking her right in the eye to say softly, "I'm really glad you're here."

Laura smiled, feeling herself relax again. "Thank you. So am I."

He kissed her gently, then sat up. "Give me a minute in the bathroom, and then it's all yours while I go start dinner. Help yourself to-" He gestured vaguely. "-anything."

A few minutes later Laura decided that anything included the button-down hanging on the back of the bathroom door, since Kevin didn't appear to own a robe and there was no way she was eating dinner in a fur coat and nothing else. His shirt was long enough to be almost a dress on her, of course, and with the sleeves rolled up it would do just fine.

She didn't consider the possible visual impact of herself in his shirt until she walked out into the kitchen and watched Kevin look up from his cutting board, start to say something, and visibly lose his train of thought. The way he was looking at her was surprisingly gratifying, and Laura allowed herself to enjoy it.

She also allowed herself to enjoy her own view. Kevin made quite the appealing picture himself, barefoot and shirtless and probably commando under those well-worn jeans. Ladies and gentlemen, Doctor Collins has left the building, she thought with satisfaction.

Kevin carefully set down the knife he'd been working with, wiped his hands on a dishtowel, and came to give her a kiss that left absolutely no doubt how he felt about the visuals. Then he drew back to look at her and said matter-of-factly, "No matter how gorgeous you may look right now-and believe me, you do-we're going to have to find you some clothes, or we're both going to starve to death. Because I cannot look at you like this and cook."

Laura giggled and opened her mouth to agree-

-and an insistent knock sounded at the front door.

"Are you expecting someone?" she asked as the knocking escalated to pounding.

Kevin shook his head, but his expression had changed completely.

"You know who that is," Laura said, not really a question.

"Yes," he answered anyway. "It's Lucy. I recognize the knock." He sighed and stepped back. "I'd better go see what she wants."

Laura reached out and grabbed his hand, stopping him when he would have turned away. "Do you actually want to talk to Lucy?"

"No," he said wearily, "but she'll have seen my car, and she'll beat on the door like that until I open it."

"You mean she'll beat on the door like that until someone opens it."

Kevin looked confused for a second, and then his eyes widened as he realized what she had in mind. "If you go to the door like that," he said cautiously, "Lucy will come unhinged." He didn't sound opposed to the idea, necessarily. More like he wanted to make sure Laura knew what she was getting herself into.

"Lucy doesn't scare me. And she's been looking for a reason to come unhinged on me for six months, so we might as well get it over with." She tipped her head toward the door. "Allow me?"

Kevin studied her for a long moment, then nodded slowly.

"Thank you." She kissed him on the cheek and went to open the door.

Lucy started talking before the door was even fully ajar. "Finally! I was beginning to think-" She stopped abruptly, and Laura watched as Lucy's eyes swept over her, taking in her bare legs and after-sex hair and Kevin's shirt. It obviously didn't take her long to draw the correct conclusion.

For a moment, Laura almost felt sorry for the other woman.

"Lucy," she said politely. "Is there some emergency?" Because if something had happened to Christina, God forbid, then Lucy had every right to be here pounding on Kevin's door like a crazy person, and Laura wouldn't have dreamed of standing in her way.

Lucy's eyes narrowed. "Yes, as a matter of fact there is an emergency. That lunatic who shot Doc is here in Port Charles."

"We're aware," Laura answered, and left it at that.

Lucy made as if to brush past her, and Laura planted herself squarely in the taller woman's path and stood her ground, winning herself a look that was about equal parts indignation and confusion.

"I'd like to speak to Kevin," Lucy said, as if Laura might have somehow missed that the first time.

"Then call him and leave a message," Laura suggested.

"This isn't your house," Lucy said frostily.

It's not yours, either, Laura thought, and decided she was done playing nice. "No, but I am an invited guest, which I believe is more than can be said for you."

They had a brief staring contest, during which it belatedly occurred to Laura that perhaps she should have asked Kevin whether Lucy was likely to come in swinging. Then she decided she didn't care. Laura had learned to defend herself in some pretty dire circumstances, and she didn't fight like a girl. If Lucy laid hands on her, well, she was in for a rude awakening.

But Lucy's attack, when it came, was not in the form of a physical blow.

"Oh, this is rich," she said sarcastically. "You protecting Kevin from me. As if it's not your fault he got shot in the first place."

That stung, of course, not least because Laura couldn't in good conscience argue the point, but she didn't flinch. "You should go, Lucy," she said quietly, and anyone with an ounce of self-preservation would have heeded the warning in her tone and fled.

Instead, Lucy cocked her head and studied Laura like a bug under a microscope. "He collects strays, you know," she said conversationally after a moment. "Kevin. He can't help himself. I suppose it goes back to his brother, but he's a sucker for head cases. You're only here because he thinks he can fix you."

And at that Laura did flinch. Only slightly, but the look of triumph in Lucy's eyes made it obvious that she knew she'd found the chink in Laura's armor.

Lucy opened her mouth again, no doubt about to go in for the kill-

-and Kevin seemed to materialize at Laura's back, one long arm reaching across her shoulder to brace his hand against the doorframe, his chest warm against her back in the cold night air.

"That's enough," he said sharply, and Laura had the satisfaction of seeing Lucy flinch as she apparently realized she'd crossed a line.

"Doc, I-"

"You should go," Kevin said, his voice quiet but no less steely for its low volume. "I'll speak to you tomorrow."

Lucy's gaze swept over the two of them, and Laura was grateful for Kevin's protective body language as much as for his words. The way he had chosen to stand, sheltering her beneath that casually outstretched arm, sent a strong message. One Lucy apparently understood, since she turned on her heel and marched off into the night. But she did it with her head held high, her posture clearly proclaiming This is not over.

Laura allowed Kevin to draw her back into the house and close the door, noting with relief that he bolted it securely. "Well, that was fun," she said lightly, not wanting him to see how badly Lucy's parting shot had actually rattled her. It wasn't true, and she knew it wasn't true, so why the hell was this bothering her so much?

"You're freezing," Kevin said quietly, and led her a few steps away from the door before wrapping her up in a hug.

The warmth felt good-the caring felt good-and Laura leaned into him and laid her head on his shoulder. "Thank you," she murmured.

He kissed the top of her head, then held her quietly until her shivering subsided a minute or so later. And then, just when Laura had begun to think he might let it go, he quietly asked, "What did she say to you?"

She drew back to look up at him, surprised. "You didn't hear? I thought that's why you…"

Kevin shook his head. "I couldn't hear what she said, no. I came because I saw you react to it."

Which meant he'd somehow been able to discern her distress from a partially-blocked view of her upper back from his vantage point on the opposite side of the room. Laura filed that away for future consideration.

For the moment she confined her response to, "It was nothing. Mean Girls stuff."

"I don't doubt it was mean," Kevin said, studying her closely, "but I don't think it was nothing."

Has anyone ever told you you're too damn perceptive for your own good? she thought, but bit it back. It wouldn't be fair to take her hurt out on Kevin. And she was going to have to answer him, so… "Let's just say someone finally made the expected crack about the psychiatrist and the mental patient."

Kevin went rigid, and anger flashed in his eyes. "She what?"

"I should have expected it," Laura said, looking down and shrugging. "The joke does sort of write itself."

"I will speak to Lucy tomorrow," Kevin said again, in a tone that made Laura very glad she wasn't Lucy Coe. Then he added much more gently, "In the meantime… Look at me, please?"

Laura forced herself to look up.

"The mental patient?" he repeated, searching her eyes. "Please tell me that's not really how you think of yourself."

"It's not," she answered, and hesitated before adding, "Not anymore. But it was for a long time, and it's still… It's not something you just forget."

"No, I imagine not." There was no judgment in his eyes. He reached up to brush her hair back from her face and let the gentle touch linger, seeming to search for words. "Laura…"

"I'm okay," she said, and was surprised to realize she meant it. It was impossible to give any credence to Lucy's jealous sniping when Kevin was standing there looking at her like she was the most precious thing in the world to him. "I know she was lying. That's why I don't want to repeat what she said. It's not worth it."

Kevin studied her for another long moment, then nodded slowly. "Okay. So long as you're alright." He smiled slightly. "Now, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?"

Laura laughed. "I think you were going to find me some clothes so that you could cook without being...distracted."

"Ah, right. Dinner."

Kevin managed to locate some sweatpants that were, of course, comically too long on Laura, but with the cuffs turned up they were good enough. She refused to relinquish his shirt, which seemed to amuse him, and he installed her in a seat at the breakfast counter and returned to his dinner preparations, gently rebuffing her offers to help.

"Maybe next time," was all he would say on the matter, and Laura finally gave in and settled in to watch him.

"You enjoy this," she observed after a little while. "For its own sake, I mean, and not just to impress a date."

He threw a sidelong glance at her, smiling slightly. "Oh, am I impressing you?"

Laura laughed. "You know you are. This is like watching the Food Network."

Kevin shrugged easily. "I've always enjoyed it, yeah. It's basically chemistry, except that at the end you can eat it." After a beat he added, "It's nice to have someone to cook for again."

"I'll bet Christina still asks you to cook for her when she comes home."

"She does," he admitted, "though she's quite a good cook herself, actually."

Laura smiled at the note of parental pride in his voice. "What's her favorite dish of yours?"

"Baked macaroni and cheese," he answered without hesitation. "When she was about twelve years old we had to watch her to make sure she didn't literally make herself sick on the stuff."

"Sounds like Lucky when he was a kid. He actually did make himself sick once on my apple pie."

Kevin looked up at that, and Laura almost laughed at his hopeful expression. "Apple pie?"

"It used to be sort of a specialty of mine. I could probably be persuaded to dust off the recipe." Not that she had an actual written recipe, but she was pretty sure she remembered.

"Pie crust is a thing I never mastered," he admitted. "It's tricky."

"Says the man currently making his own alfredo sauce," Laura said, not convinced.

"I'm serious," Kevin insisted. "Pastry eludes me."

"We can swap lessons, then, because that-" She nodded toward the simmering mixture he was now stirring. "-would curdle on me in a heartbeat."

That launched Kevin into a somewhat technical discourse on cream-based sauces, which Laura interrupted occasionally with a question or two. He seemed surprised at first by her level of interest, but after a while he seemed to accept that it was genuine, and their discussion of the culinary arts carried them through to actually sitting down to dinner. If it could still properly be called dinner at this hour.

The pasta was delicious, and Laura exclaimed over it until Kevin actually blushed.

"I'm glad you like it, but it's not that special."

"It's special to me. Do you have any idea how long it's been since anyone who wasn't on staff at Wyndemere cooked for me?"

Kevin shook his head.

"Years. A lot of years. And you went to some trouble, too-Alfredo is an art form."

He scoffed. "Alfredo is not an art form. Hollandaise, now, that is an art form."

"Let me guess: You're good at that, too."

"Stick around for breakfast, and I'll prove it," he challenged, then abruptly looked down at his plate, seeming to think he might have said something wrong.

Laura was momentarily confused-surely he didn't actually think she was going to leave?-and then realized that he probably had no idea what she was planning to do. It wasn't as if she'd said one way or the other.

"I'd like that," she said, and his answering smile made her incredibly glad that she'd let Tracy talk her into coming over here. Left to her own devices she might have continued to keep Kevin at arm's length until he finally gave up, and that...well, that wasn't a thought she cared to entertain.

They finished their meal and lingered over second glasses of wine, talking about everything and nothing, and by the time they moved on to clearing the table Laura could no longer remember why she'd been so frightened by the idea of being with Kevin again. She felt comfortable here with him in a way she hadn't expected, like this was where she belonged. And the thought of spending the night with him didn't scare her at all. She wanted to be here in the morning.

Of course, she thought as she watched him bend over to put a container of leftovers in the fridge, tonightisn't over yet. She moved closer to him so that when he straightened and turned around she was right there in his personal space.

"Well, hi there," Kevin said, resting his hands on her shoulders and stroking his thumbs along her collarbones.

"Hi," she answered, and slid her hands into his back pockets. As hints went it wasn't subtle, but turning up on his doorstep naked hadn't been subtle, either, and look how well that had turned out.

Kevin's smile turned mischievous. "Should I take this as a sign that you might be interested in...dessert?"

"That would be a safe bet, yes."

His hands came up to cradle her face, and he bent his head and kissed her until she was dizzy and breathless and on the verge of forgetting that kitchens really weren't ideal places to make love, Hollywood's opinion on the matter notwithstanding. Then he nuzzled his way back to her ear and warmed it with his breath, inviting her back to bed with him and explaining a little of what he had in mind.

And Laura's last coherent thought for the night was to make a mental note to do something very nice for Tracy. Tomorrow. Late tomorrow.