A/N: So, I started working on this in November last year, after I'd just finished watching the first three seasons of Grace and Frankie. Made it halfway through the third chapter, and then I hit a wall. Hard. And, as I tend to do when I hit a wall, I gave up and moved on to other, newer, shinier projects. Then, a few days ago, I was scrolling through my documents and found this again. I thought, hey, I should finish that. So I did :)

Three Cities will span three chapters, three cities, and just over five years. It's based on what we know about Robert and Sol's first kiss, their second kiss, and the London suit. This story is finished and edited (cue shock and excitement from the people that are familiar with my normal fanfic practices), so I'll be posting chapters two and three quite soon. Hope you'll enjoy, and please leave a review when you've finished reading!

Edit: Apparently the format got majorly messed up the first time I posted this for some reason? It should be working now.

New York, January 29th, 1993

It had been a good day. A great day.

Divorce lawyers didn't get too many of those, so when Robert suggested a drink in the hotel bar, Sol was all for it. Every good day deserved some sort of celebration.

Swallowing the last mouthful and putting his glass down, Robert turned to Sol with a small grin. Sol smiled back and finished his own drink.

'Another?' Robert suggested.

Sol glanced down at his wrist watch, his lips pulling into a small grimace, like they always did when he wasn't sure about something. 'I don't know, Robert. We have that early flight …'

'Oh, come on,' Robert said, leaning forward and putting his hand on Sol's arm. 'Another drink won't hurt. Besides, I don't want today to end! It's been a fantastic day, and tomorrow I have to go home to Grace.'

Sol sighed, giving Robert a half-smile. 'How are the two of you? Still …'

'Still the way we've always been, yes.'

'I'm sorry.'

Robert had to laugh at that, giving Sol a fond look. 'It's not your fault my wife and I don't love each other.'

'No, but it still makes me feel terrible, that the two of you don't have what Frankie and I have. I always miss her when we go on these trips, and I miss the boys.'

Robert shrugged. 'I miss Brianna and Mal, of course. I love my daughters. But Grace …' he trailed off, shaking his head. Then he smiled. 'Another?'

Sol looked like he wanted to say no, but he was smiling back, and Robert knew that he had won.

'Fine. Another.'

Three or maybe four 'another's later, it was nearing midnight. They hadn't spoken of their families since the first drink, and Robert felt all the better for it. Instead, they'd talked a bit about the firm and some of the cases, and as their tab grew longer, other things, more personal things, but the memory of what exactly was becoming blurry. Now they were silent, staring at their empty glasses, neither wanting the night to end but both knowing that it had to.

Robert knew that if they had another drink, they wouldn't make it to their 7am flight tomorrow morning. And if they didn't make it in time to their flight, Robert would have to call Grace and explain why they'd missed the flight, and then they'd not have a fight, because Grace would be silent and frosty in her disapproval, and the girls would notice like they always did and …

'We should go back to our rooms,' he said, pushing his glass away with a sigh. 'We have to be up in five hours.'

'You're right. We probably should have gone to bed hours ago.'

'Well, I'm glad we didn't.'

'Me too.'

Smiling at each other, they stood up, slightly unsteady but not completely drunk. After they'd paid, they made their way to the elevators. Robert didn't notice the small flight of steps until it was too late, and he'd already stumbled, and he was falling—

Sol caught him before he could, and he was back on his feet in an instant and Sol's touch gone just as fast, but not before—not before he felt—a spark. A spark of something.

It wasn't the first time he'd felt that spark with Sol, either, but it had always fizzled and died so quickly, gone before he could really notice it, gone before he could tell for sure what it was. This time, for some reason, it didn't go away.

It didn't go away. They stepped into the elevator. The doors closed. The elevator was so small, and the spark wasn't a spark at all, it was a current of electricity, filling the space between them. Robert swallowed, looking at Sol. He needed—he needed—

Whatever it was he needed, Robert could tell that Sol needed it, too. His eyes were wide, he looked almost scared, as if he had no idea what was going on, but there was something else there too, something that looked almost like …

Desire. And before Robert had time to think about it, before he could give Sol time to think about it, he pushed himself forward and Sol did the same, and they met him in the middle and their lips crashed together.

They kissed. They kissed like Robert and Grace had never kissed, mouths open, tongues twining and teeth clashing, hands in each other's hair. Robert took a couple of steps forward, pushing Sol against the elevator wall, pushing one of his legs between Sol's. He broke the kiss, just for a moment, just for a breath of air, just long enough for Sol to whisper, 'Robert,' before their mouths met again, drinking each other down as though they'd spent an eternity in the desert and this was the first drop of water they'd ever had. And that's what it felt like, the taste of Sol in his mouth, the smell of him in his nose. It felt like something he couldn't live without.

The ding of the elevator cut through the haze, and Robert and Sol broke apart, staring at each other, breathing heavily. Robert opened his mouth to say something, but what could he say? He didn't even know for sure what they'd done.

Sol, usually so talkative, usually so overtalkative in awkward situations, was quiet too. After a few moments, Robert sighed and shook his head, exited the elevator and went to his room. He didn't look back.

He was drunk. Sol was drunk. What had happened … it wouldn't happen again. Of course not.

Of course not.

Well, that's it! I swear this is about as angsty as it gets. Robert is my son (What's that? He's over fifty years older than me? Well, what does that matter? He's still my son.), and I could never hurt him too badly. Next chapter will be up in a few days. Again, please leave a review to tell me what you thought!

Hannoie