Walking purposefully into the Port Charles Police Station, Duke Lavery spied the chief of police across the room. Wearing a navy blue jacket and skirt and her hair pulled back into a tight, high bun, Anna Devane was speaking sternly to a young officer. As soon as the rookie scurried away, Duke approached Chief Devane. "Anna, we had dinner plans—did you forget?"

"Duke," Anna said, surprised. "This day has just been madness. I can't leave the station now. We'll do it another time."

"Oh, come on now. It's 6:30 already. You need to eat…."

Chief Devane began walking toward her office, annoyed. "Duke, this isn't a 9-to-5 job. I'm chief of police. I can't just leave. I have paperwork to finish up, phone calls to make—"

"Well, I'll wait for you then, and take you out afterward. I'm a patient man, Anna."

The pair had reached Anna's office, where it became apparent that she was now further annoyed. "Oh, that would be productive for both of us. And I wouldn't be very good company, anyway. Another night, really."

"You're always good company, for me."

Anna rifled through the papers on her desk, full-on angry now. "Really, Duke, I can't. Just go. I don't want to say it again."

"Oh, you're giving me orders now, are you? Well, that settles it then."

"Yes, I guess it does. So go—I have work to do."

"Remember the times I've asked you to stop thinking like a cop and just be a woman?"

"Yes?"

Duke had an unmistakable gleam in his eye. "Tonight…leave the badge on."

"Be careful what you wish for, Mr. Lavery. You may come to regret it."

He smirked sexily. "Oh, I highly doubt that."

Silence. Duke watched the wheels turning in Anna's head, until finally, in a low voice, she said, "Lock the door."

Duke did as told.

Anna continued. "Now, up against the wall."

"Turn about's fair play for the other night in the penthou—?"

In a flash, Anna had grabbed Duke by the arm and bent it up behind his back in a perp hold, spinning him round and slamming him face first against the door. With her hand on the back of his head, she turned his head to the side so he was looking at her over his shoulder. She murmured close to his ear, "I've warned you."

"You have done, woman."

She pressed his hand between his strong, broad shoulders: "It's Chief Devane. And you have the right to remain silent. If you give up that right, anything you say may be used against you." Holding his hand, she unbent his arm, grasped his other hand as well, and pressed them both against the wall above his head. With one stiletto-clad foot, she kicked at the inside of each of his feet, spreading his legs. Closely pressing the front of her body against his back, she ran her hands down the length of his raised arms, down his ribs— "Are you carrying any concealed weapons?"—up his chest and down again, over his hips, and then she crouched to pat down the outside of his legs and then back up his inseam.

Duke chuckled. "Well, that's not a gun in my pocket."

"Hmm, funny man." Bending his arm behind his back again, Anna reached over to the filing cabinet with her free hand and swiped her handcuffs off the top. She cuffed the trapped wrist, then brought down his other arm and cuffed it too.

"That's a bit tight."

"Yes." Grabbing the chain linking the two cuffs, she yanked him away from the door and shoved him into the middle of the office, facing her desk. She slowly, deliberately strode over to stand in front of him, her heels clicking on the worn municipal linoleum. She unknotted his tie, pulled it from around his neck, and let it drop to the floor. Fondling the collar of his shirt, she said, "Nice shirt, this. Is it silk?"

"Italian."

Anna slowly slid her hand up the outside of her own thigh to the hem of her skirt and pulled the fabric up out of the way to reveal, holstered to her thigh, a service revolver and a knife. She carefully unsheathed the blade and delicately plucked away each of the shirt buttons, sending them flying across the office. "Pity."

"The PCPD is going to reimburse me for that, I hope?"

Tossing the blade onto the desk and pulling the tails of the now-ruined shirt free of the waist of his pants, she advised, "Well, you can file a complaint, but it's your word against the chief of police…." She bit his bared collarbone. Then, with one hand on his shoulder, she walked around behind him and kneed him in the back of his left leg, causing him to fall to his knees.

Feigning more injury than he felt, Duke complained, "Ouch. Is this the way you treat all your prisoners?"

"Not all." She circled around in front of him again. "But you're especially incorrigible."

"Lucky me."

Anna perched on the edge of her desk, her skirt riding up her thighs. "And since you don't seem to know when to keep your mouth shut…you should put it to good use."

"My pleasure, madam." Duke kissed her stockinged inner thigh….

A number of panting minutes later (during which throngs of hot and bothered GH viewers are cruelly and inexplicably subjected to a commercial full of people flapping their arms and singing, "I feel like Chicken Tonight"), all the paperwork on the desk had fluttered to the floor. Duke nuzzled the side of Anna's neck as she swept escaped tendrils of hair behind her ear. Pulling back just far enough to look her in the eyes, Duke says, "So...do I get time off for good behavior, Chief?"

Anna finally smiled a naughty little grin. "We've not even finished the interrogation yet." She planted the sole of her shoe in the middle of his bare chest and kicked him backward, and he fell on his back to the floor, landing atop his manacled wrists.

Pulling his hands out from beneath his back, Duke asked, "The cuffs…?"

"…Stay on."

Anna rose from the desk and stood straddling him. After looking down at him a moment, she lowered herself to sit atop his thighs and her hands founnd his belt buckle.

Cut to the tinny wail of an ambulance siren, and roll credits.