First of all, let me assure you that the wait had nothing to do with lack of story response (in fact I'm absolutely flattered) and everything to do with that intrusive thing called real life. May I present for your reading/reviewing pleasure the first chapter of our tale detailing the arrival of everyone's favorite Aussie. Enjoy.

A gray Sedan with tinted windows and unmarked plates did not give rise to an unusual amount of suspicion in the hearts of those who lived in Port Charles, New York. They were, after all used to contending with the dealings of the Corinthos and Zacchara mob families, and some (Diane Miller, for instance) made good money doing just that.

No, the only party who was suspicious as car pulled up to the pier was the man sitting inside: one Ethan Lovett.

Until two days ago, Ethan had been in Scotland with his mother Holly Sutton, waiting for the man who thought he was Ethan's biological father to come to his "rescue", but now he had been summoned back to Port Charles for what was an apparently urgent, but unknown cause.

"We're coming with you," said the driver—one of the former WSB agents Robert had sent to shield Ethan and Holly from Helena Cassadine—leaving no room for negotiation. Another of the men accompanying them broke off to do a sweep of the area, and although he was rather frustrated with the presence of these guards (he had not perfected conning without knowing how to lay low) Ethan made no objection. After all, it would be nothing more than poetic justice for one of Helena henchmen to drown Ethan in the very harbor where The Haunted Star was docked

"All clear, Mr. Lovett."

"It's Ethan, mate, just Ethan, my hairline's not receding yet."

To his surprise, the stone-faced guard exhibited something akin to a chuckle. "Duly noted." He fell into step in front of Ethan, his partner taking up the rear. Both had death grips on their weapons in case a shootout proved necessary.

It wasn't.

Absent were the highly trained snipers, and instead Ethan was confronted with a mass of blonde waves that were undoubtedly attached to the bowed head of his little sister. "It's all right, I can handle it from here."

"You sure?"

"Absolutely. In fact, why don't you guys just go back to Scotland?"

"We can't do that. Agent Scorpio instructed us to—" Ethan held up his hand.

"Look, I appreciate everything Robert has done for me. I do. Especially the things he continued to do, even after he found out Luke and Holly had fed him a lie of mercy, but I'll be fine. I have family in the PCPD, and few other um…connections up my sleeve should I need them. Meanwhile, Holly—the woman you've just left—has told a very lethal woman a frighteningly transparent lie. Who do you think needs more help here?"

"Still—"

"I assure you fine gentlemen any and all of Robert's wrath will fall squarely on my own head, so unless either of you has any experience with distraught women…"

From the looks on their faces the answer appeared to be no. "Don't worry, we'll take care of your mother."

The Australian nodded, grasping hands with each of the men. "They're gone," he whispered when the door had shut

Lulu Spencer-Falconeri slowly raised her head. Ethan saw, with no small amount of alarm, that his strong sister's eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, her hair limp and matted to her moist cheeks.

"Lulu, what's the matter?"

"Y—you didn't mention to them that one of your 'protectors' is halfway around the world in Ireland," she sniffled, mopping her eyes with one fist. "Ethan, y—you shouldn't be here."

"And why not? Clearly, Luke realized you needed your big brother. Besides Robert phoned Scotland with the news that Helena showed up in Port Charles looking for Nikolas, who had declared her persona non grata on Cassadine Island. She's off at the Russian estate licking her wounds." Ethan went behind the bar for a box of tissues, and slid it across the polished wood. "So for now at least, I'm safe. Blow your nose, love."

In that moment of vulnerability Lulu was as obedient as a small scared child grateful for the soothing presence of her brother

"There we go. You wouldn't happen to know what Luke wanted?" Ethan gazed around the deserted nightclub. "Or where he is for that matter?"

"Dad's hasn't been Port Charles for weeks."

"So you called?"

. "And you were awfully hard to track down. I guess the Spencer sneak gene is inborn."

"Always worked for me. Dupe and dash, the first rule of the con."

Despite her tears, Lulu snorted. "According to Dante, our dad's done a 'dash' of his own, to Turkey of all places."

"Turkey," Ethan repeated, with a small smirk. "That's a new one. Usually he goes for someplace more…exotic"

"Dante seems to think he's off doing vigilante work on a case."

"Ah!" Ethan cupped his newly grown beard in his hand. "That sounds more like it. Come to think of it why aren't in Turkey as well. I mean you and Dante were pretty attached when I left."

"Trip didn't work out that way."

"And I'd believe that if I hadn't walked in on you having a cry a while ago, and I wasn't sitting right now watching you do that forehead thing."

Lulu touched her brow self-consciously. "What forehead thing?"

"More like between the eyebrows, really. When you're upset or stressed you get a little crease because your eyebrows scrunch"

"You're creeping me out, you know that?"

"I wouldn't be if my ability to read people weren't proving inconvenient. Scotch?"

"Why the hell not?"

Ethan jumped of the bar stool and retrieved two shot glasses into which he poured some of the amber liquid. "Who are we toasting for these tears? Luke? Dante? Johnny?"

"My inadequate uterus, and perpetually bad judgment. "

Ethan was quite glad he had not yet taken a sip, because he would have choked. "I didn't know you were trying."

"Dante and I have wanted a baby for a really long time now, but I went to Dr. Lee this fall, and she told me I can't carry to term."

"Oh, Lulu." He pulled the younger woman to him placing his chin on her head. "It will be all right. I mean there are tons of options here."

"I know, I know. Maxie was more than happy to carry for us, but I screwed that one up good and proper. Somehow she fell and miscarried. I gave the third degree about not staying off her feet and we had this huge argument where she accused me of overbearing and…jealous."

Ethan paused, tapping a rhythm on the rim of his glass.

"Just come out and say it, will you?" Lulu demanded.

"All right…are you?"

"Can you blame me? Carrying a child is supposed to create this really personal, amazing bond, and I'm not going to get to have that!"

"Have you tried…you know, grief counseling."

"We were finishing our first appointment when Dante got a call from Dad asking us to help him out of whatever jam he's in. Dr. Winters advised that Dad was likely to be roughed up, and I would regress into some kind of deep depression when I couldn't give him good news to look forward to."

Ethan raised his glass to his lips and drained it, so as to block Lulu from viewing the different emotions and thoughts mingling so plainly on his face. He agreed with the psychiatrist, but he had the good sense not to say anything. Lucky had once warned him about their sister's deep, and to an extent well founded mistrust of the mental health system. He also knew that without her husband there to coax her, Lulu was likely to let the appointments lapse, and therefore negate any progress she might have made.

"Far be it for me to be the one to bring a little sanity to the Spencer situation," he started, and Lulu gave a watery smile, "but maybe I should stay a while."

"I wouldn't mind the company, even when Dante is back stateside, he's going to have his hands full."

"With the commissioner? Mac knows how Luke can be, I can't imagine—"

"Actually, we have a new commissioner. Her name is Anna, and she happens to be Robert's ex, but no, I was talking about Kristina. The poor girl can't seem to catch a break