Author's Note: This fic was written as a follow-up to GH's 10/24/2016 episode, in which Laura and Kevin attempted to have a lunch date, but Laura was so distracted that she failed to notice Kevin's threat to order pan-fried opossum. It was a cute scene, and GF and JL were brilliant as always, but it was too short. Hence, this fic. (Reminder: At this point, Valentin hadn't appeared in Port Charles, and Laura was still planning to sell Wyndemere.)
They finished eating-or rather, they finished picking at their lunches, as neither of them actually ate much-and Kevin insisted on walking her to her car.
"Are you parked down this way, too?" she asked as they made the turn out of the lobby, mostly to break the awkward silence.
"I walked, actually. My temporary office is just a couple of blocks up."
"Your temporary office?" Now her curiosity was genuine.
"I suppose I should say it's hopefully temporary. It's a little spartan, but I needed a place to see patients while the hospital is closed, and I pretty much took the first office space I came across."
"I hadn't even thought about that," Laura admitted, feeling a pang of regret for not having asked how the hospital's closure was affecting him. "I'm sure your patients appreciate not just being abandoned."
"Most of them have been willing to come to the new location, so I suppose they must."
"Do you need to be getting back? I don't want to make you rushed getting to an appointment."
"No, all of my appointments were this morning. This afternoon I'll just be doing paperwork." He smiled wryly. "By all means, delay me."
Laura laughed.
"Actually, I thought I might take the long way back, maybe wander down through the park. It'd be a shame to spend an afternoon like this indoors." He hesitated, then added, "You'd be welcome to join me."
"If I weren't up to my ears in moving boxes, I'd be tempted. As it is, though, I really do need to be getting home."
"Of course," he said easily, and if she hadn't happened to turn to face him at that exact moment-they had reached her car-she would never have seen the flash of disappointment in his eyes. But she did see it, and it pricked her conscience.
Really? murmured the voice in her head that sounded like her mother. This man has flown halfway around the world for you twice, and you don't have fifteen minutes to walk in the park?
"You know what? You're right. It is a gorgeous day, and a few more minutes won't make that much difference. Just let me leave my bag in the trunk."
The way Kevin's eyes lit up more than made up for the lost packing time, and Laura followed him down toward the park with something akin to the feeling of a kid skipping school.
She would have felt completely at ease, actually, if not for the other thing still niggling at her conscience. The one she'd decided not to tell Kevin about, though now she didn't feel so sure.
"Laura?"
She snapped out of her reverie with a start, realizing that probably wasn't the first time Kevin had said her name. Dammit, I did it again. "I'm sorry. What was that?"
He smiled slightly and gestured toward the upcoming fork in the path. "I asked whether you have a preference."
"Uhm...up toward the bluff," she decided, and impulsively added, "But first...can we sit for a minute?" She nodded toward the nearest bench.
"Sure," Kevin said, looking a little puzzled.
They settled side-by-side in the dappled sunlight, close but not touching, and Laura turned slightly to face him. "The truth is, I was distracted even before I heard Anna mention Valentin," she admitted. "There's something I need to tell you."
"Okay." His outward expression didn't change, but Laura had learned to read his eyes, and she could see him bracing himself for some sort of bad news.
"It's alright," she said, and reached out to lightly touch his hand where it rested on the bench between them. "I'm not upset with you."
He gave her a lopsided little smile. "Well, that's a relief."
"You may be upset with me, though, after…" She stopped and shook her head. "Look, I know what I'm about to say is crazy, okay? You don't have to tell me."
"Okay," he said again, and turned his hand over to gently capture hers. "I can see that this is really bothering you, but you can tell me anything. Always."
It was obvious that he meant that, and Laura felt the tight knot in her chest relax a little. "Thank you. It was, uhm… It was while I was away. I was really upset. About a lot of things. Losing Nikolas and leaving Spencer and… And you. I was very angry with you."
"You had good reason," Kevin said quietly.
"Thank you for acknowledging that, but I kind of took it to an extreme. I decided…" She looked down at their joined hands. "I mean, I didn't really decide, I just…"
"Laura, you don't have to do this," he murmured when she trailed off again. "Whatever happened, it's alright. You were under an enormous amount of stress."
She nodded. "You're right. I was. And I was all alone-aside from Spencer, I mean-and I couldn't sleep, and I wanted to call you, but I couldn't, obviously, and that made me even angrier, and I… God, this is even harder to say out loud than I thought it would be. The truth is, I managed to convince myself that you that you might be working for Helena."
He didn't snatch his hand away or get up and storm off, and after a moment she risked a glance up at him, finding him blinking at her in mute astonishment.
"Kevin?"
"I...that…" He shook his head. "You what?"
"I thought you might be working for Helena," she repeated. "Somehow in hindsight it all just seemed a little convenient, you know? I mean, she leaves me a coded message, and there just happens to be a cryptographer right here in Port Charles who's willing to help me? And not only that, but you were also someone I already sort of knew, someone I'd be predisposed to trust. I convinced myself that she'd planned it all in advance."
"And done what, exactly?" He looked like he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Lured me to the dark side and hired me to get close to you?"
"I know," Laura said, looking down again. "It's crazy. I realize that now. But at the time it just seemed like it explained so much. Why you were so willing to help me, why you listened to me the way you did, why you took so much time with Spencer, why you followed me to Greece… And hiring someone to write a book about me would've been right up Helena's alley."
Kevin sat back, disentangling his hand from hers and running his fingers through his hair. "Wow," he finally said. "Okay, I didn't see that coming, but I can sort of understand your reasoning."
Laura shook her head. "There wasn't any reasoning. There's nothing reasonable about any of it. And I'm ashamed of myself now, that I could ever have thought that about you. I realized the moment I actually saw you again on the plane how completely insane the whole idea actually was." Because, of course, it had been impossible to look Kevin in the eye and imagine that he might be one of Helena's minions.
"The plot you're describing is completely insane," Kevin agreed after a moment, "but you and I both know that completely insane and Helena Cassadine are hardly unrelated concepts. Hell, if the old bat had had any any way of knowing I was a cryptographer she might have tried to recruit me. It's one of my profession's oldest jokes: You're not paranoid if they really are out to get you."
Laura smiled in spite of herself. "So you don't think I'm crazy?"
He returned the smile and took her hand again. "No, honey, I don't think you're crazy. You were stressed and sleep-deprived and grieving and alone, and instead of being able to lean on me, you were hurting because of me. Whatever you thought, I'd certainly given you plenty of reason."
"I still feel terrible. I mean, there was always the one part of the story that glaringly didn't make sense."
"My getting myself shot?" he guessed. "You're right-that certainly would have been taking method acting to an extreme."
"It's not funny. You almost died protecting me, and then I turned around and-"
"Stop," he said firmly. "You didn't do anything wrong. I'm not mad at you, and I don't want you to be mad at yourself. We've both beaten ourselves up enough. Let it go, and let's just start over."
She searched his eyes again and found no trace of bitterness or recrimination. "I'd like that," she said slowly. "Starting over. But not from scratch. We had...we have...a pretty solid foundation."
Kevin smiled. "Yes, we do." He squeezed her hand, then gave it a little tug. "Come here."
Laura went into his arms and hugged him hard, then relaxed and let him hold her, resting her forehead against his shoulder and deliberately shutting out the rest of the world. His hand came up to the nape of her neck, and he began to run his fingertips along the base of her skull, finding every spot where she carried tension and methodically working out the knots.
She made an involuntary sound, and he paused. "Am I hurting you?"
"God, no, that feels amazing."
He didn't respond, but his fingers resumed their work, and in two minutes he had managed to almost completely cure the headache she'd had for most of the past two months.
"I'm adding this to the list of your Jedi powers," she mumbled against his shoulder.
Kevin laughed. "That much better?"
"Mm-hmm. I'd almost forgotten what it feels like to not have a headache."
"You've been having a harder time than you've let on," he murmured, not really a question.
She started to deny it...and realized she couldn't. When Lulu asked her how she was-and Lulu was the only one who ever asked, really-she said she was fine. Which was only true if your definition of fine included insomnia, recurring nightmares, and jumping every time her phone rang out of fear that something terrible had happened to Spencer.
"I guess I have," she admitted, and wryly added, "So much for being 'pulled-together enough,' huh?"
"On the contrary, I still think you're remarkably pulled-together," Kevin answered, and sounded like he meant it. "But now that the immediate crisis has passed, is that really worth what it's costing you?"
"I'm not sure I understand the question."
Kevin drew back to look at her, brushing her hair back from her face and letting the gentle touch linger. "It's one thing to be strong when you have to be-when you're in imminent danger, when other people are counting on you, when you're responsible for a child. It's another thing altogether to be strong just for the sake of being strong, just to prove you can."
Laura blinked. "And you think that's what I'm doing?"
He shook his head. "Not on purpose, no. But sometimes we get so deeply into the habit of fending for ourselves that we forget that it's okay to ask for help. Or to need comfort. Or to just not be okay for a while."
That we didn't sound like the royal we. It sounded personal, like this was something Kevin knew from experience.
Which made it much easier to be honest. "I guess I just don't know what to ask for."
"May I make a suggestion?"
She studied him for a second, then nodded slowly. "Okay, sure."
"Don't finish packing up that house by yourself. Let me help you. Or if you don't want me there, let someone help you."
"I wouldn't mind having you there, but it's not really… It's just not the kind of thing that's easy to help with. You're not going to know what to do with any of that stuff. I don't know what to do with half of it."
"At least let me keep you company. Please? I hate to think of you out there in that huge place alone with…"
"The ghosts?"
He nodded.
"It is kind of depressing," she admitted. "But you're busy. You don't have time to-"
"I'll make time. Lulu would make time. I'm sure plenty of other people would, too. You don't have to do this by yourself."
"Okay. Alright." She held up her hands in a gesture of surrender. "If you're that determined you're welcome to come out and help me."
"That's what you're doing this afternoon, right? Packing up more stuff?"
"That was the plan, yes."
Kevin glanced down at himself. "I'm guessing I'm overdressed for the occasion?"
Laura laughed. "A little, yeah. You're going to end up covered in dust."
"Give me time to go home and change, then."
"You're really going to come out to Spoon Island today to help me sort through dusty junk?"
"Unless you actually tell me not to? Yes."
She gave in, and they walked back to her car, where he agreed to let her give him a lift back to his office.
"An hour okay?" he asked when she dropped him off. "That'll give me time to get organized for tomorrow here."
"Sure, that's fine. I, uhm… I have a roast in the slow cooker out at the house. It's not anything fancy, but you're welcome to plan to stay for dinner."
"I'd like that. What can I bring?"
"On an hour's notice when you're coming to help me pack boxes? Nothing but yourself."
He gave her a mock-severe look.
She laughed. "Okay, fine, bring a six-pack of whatever you drink when you're not drinking fancy wine."
"Will do. See you in an hour."
He showed up an hour and two minutes later in jeans and a henley, a sixer of Heineken in one hand and a grocery bag in the other.
Which of course made Laura instantly curious. "What's in the bag?"
"Dessert," he answered. "Which you didn't mention, so I took the liberty. Of course, if you object-"
"I've never objected to dessert. Never."
He laughed. "Okay, good. It's frozen, but by the time we want to eat it should be fine."
They packed boxes for most of three hours, and Laura was surprised by how much help Kevin actually was. It was nice to have a sounding board when it came to deciding what to do with items she couldn't imagine a use for (or in some cases, couldn't identify). They packed some things, dumped a far greater number of things on the already enormous give-to-charity pile, and entertained themselves by collecting a little stack of what-the-hell-is-this-thing items to ask other people about.
Both of them did end up liberally covered in dust, to the point that Kevin actually stuck his head under the tap in one of the bathrooms to get the dust out of his hair before coming down to the kitchen for dinner. Laura privately noted that towel spikes were a cute look on him. She'd already noticed that he did nice things for a pair of dark jeans.
The post roast was, as Laura had warned him, nothing special-literally meat and potatoes-but it was tasty, and with salad and beer and Kevin's mystery dessert (he'd refused to let her open the container), she thought it would make a good enough meal.
"So how are we counting today?" Kevin asked as they sat down with their plates.
"What do you mean?"
"How many dates is this?" he clarified. "I mean, has it all been one giant date, or-"
She was already laughing. "No, no, I think we've had at least four distinct things going on here. There was the lunch date-"
"Which we should probably never speak of again," he said, and took a bite of roast.
"Agreed. And then there was the park, which ended up being a little more emotionally fraught than I'd anticipated, but it was good, I think. Right?"
He nodded.
"Then we packed boxes together for several hours, which I'm not sure is exactly a date, but it's something."
"I'm counting it," Kevin said resolutely.
She laughed again. "Okay, and now we're having dinner-"
"Which is delicious, by the way."
"Thank you. So that's four, right?"
"Wow. Four dates in one day. We must really like each other."
"And we're up to a seventy-five percent success rate, too."
Kevin shook his head. "Lunch was an outlier. And even with that, it's eighty percent if you count our first date," he pointed out.
"True. I really do want a re-match on that racing game, by the way. You cheated."
"I employed a creative strategy."
Laura tossed the cap from her beer at him. "There you go again being a guy."
"After that night I really hope you have final confirmation on the guy thing. Because if not, I have to say my ego may never recover."
"Oh, you established your guy credentials admirably," she answered, and felt herself blush. To cover, she added, "Of course, as a scientist I'm sure you're aware that results have to be repeatable to be considered valid."
He looked up from his plate and slowly raised an eyebrow at her. "Are we having the conversation I think we're having? Because as firmly in the doghouse as I was just a couple of weeks ago, I didn't really think you'd want to check my credentials again anytime this calendar year."
Laura hesitated, trying to decide how best to answer that. This wasn't really a conversation she'd intended to have tonight-or indeed, anytime soon.
Kevin abruptly looked away, shaking his head at himself. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
"You didn't," she answered automatically...and then realized that she meant it. Kevin obviously thought he'd put his foot in his mouth, but it was a fair question, and she'd been the one to steer them down this path. "Really, you didn't. If I didn't want to talk about it I shouldn't have teased you like that."
He met her eyes again, and after a moment she could see his shoulders relax slightly. "You did catch me a little off-guard there."
In for a penny, she thought, and let herself just start talking. "At first I just tried to forget that night. I couldn't think about it without thinking about the next morning, and it hurt too much."
Kevin looked miserable.
"I'm not saying that to make you feel guilty," she said as gently as she could. "I'm just trying to explain."
He nodded, accepting that, but the bleakness in his eyes did not abate.
"The truth was, I didn't want to forget it. And after everything you said to me on the flight home from Geneva...after I saw what you'd written...I realized that maybe I didn't have to. Because you weren't lying that morning-what had happened between us was real, no matter what came after."
"It was the most real thing that had happened in my life in a long time," he answered, holding her gaze.
"Mine too. And now that I can separate the night from the morning in my mind, it's a good memory." She saw the relief in his eyes and allowed herself to add, "One I'd like to revisit at some point. Not tonight, but...well, probably before the New Year. If that's a timeline you think you can work with."
Kevin smiled, and Laura could see the lingering tension flow out of him. "That timeframe works for me, yeah."
They held each other's eyes for a few more seconds, then returned by mutual consent to actually eating the food cooling in front of them. For a little while there was silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable, and after a few minutes they moved on to other topics.
Laura was reminded, actually, of one of the first things that had attracted her to Kevin-he was a great conversationalist. At some point she realized that she'd finished her dinner, so more than a few minutes must have passed, but it hadn't felt like it. They had started off talking about cooking, then slid sideways into French culture, and finally made a hard left turn into colonialism, nationalism, the Syrian refugee crisis, and the entire political situation in the Middle East in general.
She was watching in fascination as Kevin draw a detailed map in the air between them when he suddenly stopped and let his hands fall back to the table. "Sorry," he said sheepishly.
"For what?"
"For geeking out about the Balfour Declaration over dinner. I'm sure that was considerably more than you wanted to know."
"Not really. I've always liked history, and you talk about it like you're telling a story, not reading from a textbook."
"I just don't want to leave you feeling like there's going to be a quiz later," he said, and Laura thought she detected a faint echo of someone else's voice-someone who hadn't appreciated Kevin's tendency to lapse into professor mode as much as she did.
"Honestly? It's nice to be with someone who challenges me to bring my A-game. For that matter, it's nice to be with someone who assumes I have an A-game. Scotty always thought he was a whole lot smarter than I was, and Luke...well, Luke tended to do the thinking for both of us, and for a long time I tended to let him. You're a breath of fresh air in a lot of ways."
"Thank you," he answered, smiling slowly. "And may I say, I imagine that anyone who's ever underestimated your intelligence has done so at their own peril."
"I think that might be the strangest, nicest compliment I've ever received."
Kevin laughed a little. "Yeah, well, that's me-strange and nice."
"It's probably good that there's not going to be a quiz later, though," she added lightly. "Because you're adorable when you're geeking out, and I got a little distracted. You lost me somewhere just east of Jaffa." She reached out to touch a spot on the invisible map he had abandoned in the air between them.
He studied her for a moment-gauging, she thought, whether she was serious-then suggested, "Maybe we could continue this over dessert?"
"Oh, am I finally allowed to open the mystery container?"
They went into the kitchen, where Laura popped the lid off the container, made a happy little sound, and reached immediately for a fork. "Did Lulu tell you how much I like tiramisu," she asked, "or is this another one of your Jedi mind tricks?"
He laughed. "Neither, I'm afraid. It just happened to be the last thing I'd made too much of and had to freeze."
Laura stopped with her fork halfway to her mouth. "Wait. You made this?"
Kevin nodded, then smiled wryly. "Maybe I should've waited to answer that after you tasted it."
Which she did, and hummed in pure bliss before managing actual words. "Oh, my God. This is the Eighth Deadly Sin."
"Shall I leave the two of you alone?" Kevin teased.
"Very funny. You know perfectly well how good this is-you brought it to impress me."
"Guilty as charged."
"Well, it backfired," she said loftily. "I can't possibly date you. I'll gain five hundred pounds."
He reached out as if to take the container away from her, and she made a show of brandishing her fork. They got into a playful tussle-a very gentle one, she noted; she was going to have to teach him that she wasn't fragile-that somehow ended with the tiramisu and the fork set safety on the counter and Laura immobilized in Kevin's arms.
One moment they were both laughing, and then their eyes met, and suddenly the air between them seemed to crackle with energy. Kevin moved first, ducking his head and slowly leaning in, but it was Laura who met him halfway and pressed her lips to his. By the time his hands came up to cradle her face, she was already breathless and more than willing to surrender control to him.
And dear God, the man could kiss. He didn't try to take it any farther-his hands never strayed lower than her collarbones-but the kiss itself was more than enough to vividly remind her of everything she'd tried to forget about their night together. Now she deliberately allowed herself to sink into those memories, remembering Kevin as a lover. Remembering how patient and gentle he had been with her. How he had made her feel wanted and in turn reminded her how to want.
She certainly wanted now. Badly enough that if Kevin had pressed the issue she might well have forgotten her earlier Not tonight and thrown caution to the wind. But he slowly eased off, backing down the intensity until she could breathe again and drawing back just enough to look at her.
"You are dangerously good at that," she murmured, making him smile.
"Thank you. And likewise." He cleared his throat and, with obviously reluctance, put a little more space between them. "Our tiramisu is getting warm."
"Is that code for We should go back to the table?"
"You could interpret it that way, yes."
They stepped apart, Laura turning resolutely to fiddle with the coffee maker, Kevin busying himself plating the tiramisu.
"Would you mind if we took this out to the den instead?" she asked when everything was ready.
"Not at all."
They settled on opposite ends of the couch, and Laura was faintly amused to note that Kevin waited for her to put her feet up on the coffee table before following suit himself.
"You don't have to be on your best company behavior, you know," she said between bites. "Make yourself at home."
"Do I seem uncomfortable?" he asked, sounding genuinely puzzled.
"Well, we stopped working two hours ago, and you still have your shoes on. I guess your mileage may vary, but for me that would be a sign of not feeling entirely comfortable in a place."
He blinked, then laughed and set his plate aside, leaning forward to ceremoniously remove his shoes. "Better?" he asked when he sat back again to retrieve his dessert.
"Much," she confirmed, and glanced away as a distressing thought crossed her mind.
"What is it?" Kevin asked softly.
"Nothing. Just that...my wanting out of this place…I feel that way because it's felt so empty without Nikolas and Spencer. Now I'm realizing that it doesn't feel that way with you here, which makes me afraid that… What if the emptiness follows me?" She looked at him to see whether that had even made any sense.
The compassion in his eyes made it clear that he'd understood her just fine, as did his gentle answer. "It may, for a while. But wherever you are, honey, you don't have to be alone. You have family and friends who will be glad to help you make your new home feel full." He smiled. "And don't forget-when Spencer comes home for his school breaks, you're going to have a larger-than-life ten-year-old boy underfoot again."
Laura laughed softly. "I will, won't I? Thank you for reminding me of that."
"Well, the Noble Patriarch did charge me with looking out for you in his absence."
"Oh, he did, did he?"
"He doesn't want you to be alone."
"I'm not alone. Thank you for reminding me of that, too."
They looked at each other for a long moment, communicating in a way that didn't require words, then went back to finishing off the tiramisu.
"So I have to ask," Laura said when she finally set her empty plate aside. "Do you realize you've called me honey twice today?"
Kevin's sudden impression of a deer in headlights made it clear that, no, he hadn't realized. "I have?"
"Mm-hmm. Once in the park, and then again just now."
"Oh." A pause. "Did it bother you?"
"No. I liked how it sounded. I just wasn't sure whether you were doing it on purpose."
"I wasn't," he admitted, looking uncomfortable.
Laura moved close enough to him to reach out and touch his hand. "Kevin, it's fine. Really. I mean, we'd be having a different conversation if your subconscious had decided I was snookums-"
Kevin laughed.
"-but I don't mind being honey."
"Okay. Good. I just don't want to make you uncomfortable. Is there, uhm… Is there anything I should avoid calling you? Besides snookums?"
Laura understood what he was really asking. "Luke used to call me angel," she answered, and found herself adding, "I hated it."
Kevin raised a questioning eyebrow.
"Well, not at the beginning," she clarified. "But by the end. The idea that he still pictured me as this...I don't know...this perfect thing that wasn't the real me."
Kevin nodded in understanding, and then a momentary flash of amusement crossed his face.
"What?" Laura demanded.
"Well, I can picture you as an angel pretty easily," he answered, "but I guess I get more the avenging variety."
"The avenging variety?"
Kevin nodded. "Think less Hallmark Channel and more Wrath of God. It's quite the mental image. I have to say the fourteen-foot wingspan and the flaming sword suit you."
Laura stared at him for a second, then snorted a laugh. "The inside of your head must be a very interesting place."
"You have no idea."
"For the record, I'm pretty sure that's not what Luke was picturing."
"His loss," Kevin answered, looking her in the eye.
Laura smiled. "Thank you."
He tipped his head to the side slightly, a silent You're welcome, then glanced at his watch and frowned. "Much as I'd love to continue this conversation, I'm afraid I need to be getting back. Five AM comes very early."
"I'll walk you down to the landing."
They were quiet as they put their shoes and jackets back on, but the silence was comfortable. We're old friends again, Laura thought with pleasure. She took Kevin's hand after closing up behind them, and they walked down toward the launch with their fingers laced together.
Just a few feet before they would have crossed into the pool of light cast by the dock's floodlights, she pulled him to a stop, and he half-turned to look at her curiously.
Laura smiled up at him. "Kiss me goodnight?"
He obliged. Very thoroughly.
Wow, she thought when he finally released her, and only narrowly managed to avoid saying it out loud. Instead, she asked him when she could see him again.
"My tomorrow is pretty well booked," he answered with obvious regret. "Maybe we could meet for breakfast on Wednesday?"
"I'd like that. The Metro Court again?"
Kevin nodded. "Is seven too early?"
Laura would've agreed to five if it meant more time with him. "Seven is just fine. I'll see you then. And Kevin?" she added as he started to turn toward the launch. "I enjoyed all of today's dates."
His answering smile was brilliant. "Me, too. May I call you tomorrow?"
"Of course."
"Good night, Laura."
"Good night, Kevin."
She stood there until the launch pulled away from the dock, waved to Kevin one last time, then turned resolutely toward the path back up to Wyndemere. Maybe tomorrow she'd call Lulu and ask her to come out and help with the packing. She owed her daughter a thank-you for encouraging her to give Kevin another chance, and it would be nice to have her company. Of course, she'd have to face the Lulu interrogation about her date with Kevin, but she supposed that was fair.
Laura laughed out loud, imagining the exchange:
"So, Mom, how'd your date with Kevin go yesterday?"
"Which date? Because the first one didn't go so well, but by the fourth one we were on a roll."
She couldn't wait to see the look on Lulu's face.