Robert was as good as his word: he was at Anna's office not one minute later than he'd promised. He knocked, opened the door, found her seated at her desk. She looked up and smiled—he thought she looked incredibly sexy in her reading glasses—and asked for one more minute. "I'm almost done. Just reviewing a final document. Then I'm all yours."

She looked down again, concentrated. Her forehead creased between her brows, then the muscles released. She picked up her pen, scribbled her signature, removed her glasses and put them on her desk, stood up. "One more minute," she sighed. I'll just pass this on to my assistant." Robert smiled and nodded.

She was gone. He walked up to the desk and looked around. Robert thought how much he would have hated this office when he was commissioner. There wasn't one bloody window. He grudgingly admitted that it was perhaps more secure; after all, his office had had a window—through which a bomb had been lobbed, almost killing him. But Anna's office felt like a glorified cubicle. He wondered how she could stand it. After just a few minutes, Robert felt claustrophobic and wanted to flee.

And then she was back. "6:06," she announced; "not too bad." She walked up to him and shyly took his hand. "So, Mr. Scorpio, what do you have planned for us tonight?"

"Well," Robert smiled, "I thought it would be fun to do some of the things we used to like to do back-in-the-day. But we've actually done most of them already. We used to like dancing."

"Which we did on New Year's Eve," Anna acknowledged.

"Exactly. I remember we used to like drinking quite a lot . . ."

Anna laughed. "And we got drunk together, or at least tipsy, on the same occasion."

"We used to like working together. I wouldn't categorize our current investigation as a 'caper,' exactly, but we are doing a bit of sleuthing. I know I'm enjoying the old 'back-and-forth' with you. "

"We always made a good team," Anna agreed. "And I'm glad we're partners again."

"I remember that we ate all the time: you were always bringing me food, and we always went out for meals. We had my favourite meal recently; I have what I hope is something special for you waiting in the car."

"We certainly did enjoy our food," Anna admitted. "I assume you've tried to put together my favourite meal. I wonder what that might be."

"I also remember that we dressed up a lot, wore a lot of disguises—hats, wigs, outrageous outfits. You'd almost think it was a fetish."

"Oh, I loved the costumes," Anna sighed dreamily. "When we hid out from the DVX with the hostage by pretending we were chefs. I thought we'd stand out in those ridiculous hats, but they didn't suspect a thing. You know, I thought I looked quite good as a blonde, and more than passable as a redhead." Anna guffawed. "The moustache you wore when we followed Helena Cassadine to Mount Rushmore was absolutely atrocious. And your American accent was even worse. What were you thinking?"

"What were you thinking, wearing those impractical red boots? And who the hell were you supposed to be at the Halloween Party at Dellafield's? You never did explain that little number. I was at least identifiable as Clyde Barrow."

Anna was embarrassed. "And Kate was Bonnie Parker, remember? I didn't have a date; I wasn't half of some cute couple. And if you must know, I wasn't trying to be anyone specific. I was just trying to be a beautiful blonde. I think subconsciously I was trying to compete with Kate for your attention."

Robert was quiet. He took Anna's other hand. "You did look beautiful. I noticed, you know. On that night, and on more than one occasion before and after, I think we were both guilty of feeling—confused about the nature of our relationship, what it was and should be." He paused, then smiled and swung her hands back and forth gently. "So, shall we put dressing up on our 'to-do' list?"

Anna smiled seductively. "We shall. I'll prepare my tickle trunk."

Robert looked at her, unsure. "I don't know what that is, but I like the sound of it."

Anna grinned. "Sorry—an obscure pop culture reference from my time in Canada. Ignore me."

"Impossible," Robert whispered.

Anna took a step closer to Robert. She wrapped his hands around her waist and moved her own up to his shoulders. "You've forgotten one thing we used to like to do. The thing we enjoyed most of all, in fact. And something we haven't done in quite a long time."

"I'm not sure what you mean, Anna. You'll have to remind me."

She did.

"Yes," Robert agreed, "I remember that was our favourite thing. I remember it very well. I definitely have it on my list of things to do tonight. But later."

Anna's eyes flashed as she moved her hand to Robert's lips and wiped an imaginary lipstick stain from his mouth. Robert smiled and kissed her fingers. She broke their embrace and walked behind her desk to her office closet. She retrieved her coat, put it on, slung her bag over her shoulder, and collected a black piece of carry-on luggage—as promised, this time Anna was prepared. She closed the closet door and turned to face Robert. "Well?" she asked. "Are we finally ready?"

Robert walked up to meet her and took the luggage from her. "If we're not ready by now, god help us, Devane."

As they left the station, Anna's assistant frowned at her. "What's with the luggage, Commissioner? You're not leaving town, are you? I don't have that noted in my schedule."

"Don't worry, Mr. Rubin," Anna called out behind her; "I'll see you tomorrow morning. I may be a bit late, but I'll be here."

Their first stop was the waterfront. They walked to their favourite pier, still relatively unchanged from how they remembered it. Robert had retrieved a bag from his car. He put it down and pulled out a styrofoam container, and from there pulled two lemon Italian ices. Anna's mouth fell open. "Robert, where on earth did you find Italian ice in the dead of winter?"

Robert smiled. "I still have contacts in this city. I pulled a few strings."

Anna took one with her gloved hand. "You know this is absolutely insane. It's really cold out here. This may be the death of me."

"Don't be so melodramatic," Robert ordered. "Eat up."

They stood smiling at each other, laughing, and eating their ices until Anna began to shiver uncontrollably. "I'd do just about anything for you, Robert, but I'm freezing. I can't eat any more."

"I came prepared," he answered, reaching into his coat pocket. He pulled out a silver flask and traded it for Anna's ice. "A little fire to go with your ice. Take a swig—it's good for you. It'll warm you back up."

Anna laughed, surreptitiously took the flask, opened its top. "You know, I've heard alcohol consumption worsens hypothermia." She took a small swig.

"Well then," Robert said, throwing the last of the lemon ice away, "we'd better get your blood back into circulation to warm you up. Walk with me."

They walked arm in arm against a biting wind back to the Port Charles Hotel, he carrying his bag, she dragging her bag, its wheels clicking and jumping on the uneven pavement.

Once they arrived, Robert asked Anna to stop at the lounge and order a bottle of red wine for their dinner. "I'll nip upstairs with your bag and get the food ready," he told her. Before he got into the elevator, he leaned over and kissed her slowly, meaningfully. When he pulled away, Anna smiled, reached up and touched his cheek.

All of this was observed, at a distance, by Ava Jerome, who was just then leaving the lounge after meeting with one of Julian's associates. She froze in her tracks. This was, she noted, a new development. She slunk around the corner and hurried from the hotel, pulling out her cell phone. Julian needed to be informed.

Once the elevator door closed, Anna walked to the lounge and approached the bar. Looking at the wine list she was flummoxed, had no idea what to order, had no idea what they were eating. What had been her favourite meal when she and Robert were still together? She'd have to choose something at random and hope for the best. The bartender promised her selection would be sent up to Robert's room as quickly as possible.

Anna walked back to the elevator, waited, stepped in when it arrived, waited for the door to close, waited for it to travel five floors. Her mouth was dry; her stomach felt hollow; she chewed her lip. She wasn't exactly sure why she felt so nervous; she was going to be with Robert, after all, the one man she'd always felt at home with, the one man she'd always felt herself with. She suspected her feelings reflected the importance of this moment. She and Robert had to get it right this time. So much was riding on this evening. She couldn't face going back now, losing him again, being alone again. She was tired of being without him. She'd realized this with painful clarity over the past week.

When she reached Robert's door, she hesitated for a moment. And then she knocked quietly. The door opened; Robert peeked around. "Who is it?"

"I think you're expecting me," she answered. He smiled, and the door swung wide open.

Spread out before her on the (she had to note, none-too-pristine) carpet of the hotel room was a picnic blanket laden with plates of cheese, sausage, an impressive-looking baguette (where on earth had he found it? It looked better than anything she'd found in Port Charles), and an assortment of olives, fruit. Anna stood in the door and admired. "It's lovely, Robert. A real Franco-Italian picnic feast. You remembered all my favourites." Actually, she realised, they'd all been her favourites twenty-five years ago—before she'd discovered sushi. Of course, there was no reason to tell him any of this right now.

And this thought suddenly made her wonder if Robert still liked Chinese food as much as he had, or if he now had a new favourite. There was so much they needed to learn about each other's lives in the present.

Robert took her coat and helped her sit down. He then (a bit creakily) joined her on the floor. Just as he sat down, there was a knock at the door. He (a bit stiffly) rose to his feet, collected the wine, and sat down again. "Crikey," he remarked. "That's not as easy as it used to be. I'm sure it's just an after-effect of the coma. Can't possibly be anything else."

He opened the wine, poured two glasses. They toasted, clinked rims. Anna tore off bread for both of them and buttered it thickly. Everything was delicious, and they talked as they ate, mainly reminiscing. Robert recalled his nerves on the night they spent in the "no-tell motel," when he'd asked her to remarry him. He laughed when he remembered their attempts to avoid Lord Ashton during their honeymoon in Paris.

"Whatever happened to my barber's chair?" Robert asked Anna as he refilled her glass. "I've often wondered about that."

Anna smiled. "You'd have to ask Mac. He inherited all of our things in trust for Robin when we died."

"I have fond memories of that chair," Robert told her.

"When I bought it for you," Anna admitted, "I didn't realize the uses we would put it to. I thought it would just be an interesting conversation piece, not a marital aid."

Robert looked lost in thought. Anna put down her wine glass. "Robert, I've noticed that when we're together we spend a lot of time thinking and talking about the past."

Robert met her gaze. "We do. Our past was wonderful."

Anna drew in her legs to sit cross-legged and shifted her body to face him more directly. "It was. It was incredible. But at times it was also painful and difficult—we forget those times. We were separated for years; we were with other people. After our first seven-year estrangement, at times we struggled to relate to and to trust each other as friends. We'd hurt and we continued to hurt each other terribly. And our lives were frequently in danger."

"That intensity," Robert explained, "is part of what made our past so incredible. We never did anything by half. It was full-on or nothing."

Anna took his hand. "Yes. And recently we've been, in a sense, reliving the past, with Faison and Obrecht, and with Robin's kidnapping. But we can't live in the past. We have to live in the present. We need to be who we are now with each other. We can't expect ourselves to be who we were. Does this make sense?"

A memory flashed into Robert's mind, though he couldn't for the life of him remember the context: of Luke Spenser telling him the past was killing him; of Sean Donnelly telling him that he had to accept the loss of his youth with grace.

"Anna," he confessed, "I think about the past a lot: our past, my past. I think about Robert Scorpio—who he was, not so much who he is now." Robert looked down. "When we were first together, and even when we remarried, I never thought twice about our age difference. You were so oddly mature for your age, and I was, let's face it, pretty immature. But now I think about it. I can't avoid thinking about it. You're still so young, so beautiful. I have trouble getting up and down from the floor. And when I look in the mirror, I can't help but worry that I've become an old man."

Anna shook her head. "I don't see you that way. I'll never see you that way. When I look at you I see only Robert Scorpio, because that's who you were and that's who you are still. You don't seem old." She laughed. "And you're still immature. I still find you impossibly attractive. What I'm telling you is that I want to know and love you as the man you are today, as well as the man you were. I want to reminisce about the past but also hear about your present, and about the time since we were forced to be apart. I want it all."

Robert kissed her hand. "Okay," he promised. "You'll get it all. But not right now. Because all I want at this moment is you. I can't wait any longer." And he leaned over and kissed her.

They managed to extricate themselves from the floor and from the blanket without knocking anything over, an impressive achievement given their sudden, frantic need for each other. Anna pushed Robert down onto the bed, her hands tugging at his shirt, pulling it free from the waist of his jeans; she began to unbutton it, working down from the collar. One of his buttons snapped free, flew across the room. "Sorry, sorry" she muttered between kisses; "I'll have that taken care of, I promise." She rolled Robert to his side, tried to pull off his shirt; his hand caught in the sleeve. "Shit, another button," she laughed and licked her lips. "And now it's inside out. Help me, Robert." He rolled back; they turned the sleeve right side out again; Anna inspected the button, worked it free. Robert's arm was liberated. Anna tried to free the other, but Robert flipped her over so that he was on top, kissed her hard. She demanded his hand, unbuttoned his cuff; he threw his shirt off into the corner of the room and grinned down at her. Her hands moved down to his belt, but Robert stopped her. He reached for the buttons of her shirt. "Everything equal," he insisted.

His fingers felt large and clumsy on the delicate buttons, but he managed to work them loose as he leaned over and kissed Anna's neck. He used his hand to push back the fabric of her shirt; he lifted her shoulders and chest up off the bed and slid her arms free. She fell back and looked up at him; he stared down at her and exhaled heavily. He leaned himself over her, supporting his weight with his arms extended straight. "You are beautiful," he sighed.

In short order they shed the last of their clothing. Anna flipped herself back up on top, pressed Robert onto the bed with both hands, and gazed down at him. They stared at each other, then smiled, and Anna bent down to kiss Robert tenderly on the mouth. For the first time since the last time, they made love.

When they'd had sex in the past, it hadn't been formulaic. They'd been inventive lovers, and always had fun. But their encounters, wherever and however they occurred and whatever they included, had generally started with Anna assuming power and ended with Robert taking over control, and their lovemaking this time, even after so many years, followed the same pattern. Robert initially allowed Anna to set the pace, to tease him and to build momentum until he couldn't stand it any longer and he had to take over. And, as had been the case years ago, when it was over, both were physically completely spent. Beads of sweat had collected on Robert's brow and on Anna's upper lip; both were breathing heavily.

"Good god, Robert, what were you saying about feeling old? I thought I'd remembered how intense you were as a lover, but that—that was unexpected."

Robert smiled. "You bring out the best in me, Devane. I hate to admit it, but that was exceptional. It hasn't been like that in years."

Anna rolled to her side and looked him in the eye. "Maybe it won't be exceptional now that you're with me. Maybe what we just did will set a new standard."

She rolled back onto the bed. They lay flat on their backs, panting, reached for each other's hands, and started to laugh.

After, they got up and ate a bit more, drank a bit more wine, and cleaned up the remains of their picnic. As they worked, they intentionally brushed up against each other, caught each other's hands, met each other's gazes, and smiled satisfied smiles. Robert slapped Anna's ass while she was delicately balancing one of the wine glasses on a stack of cardboard food containers she was carrying, trying to multitask; she sent back a flying kick, catching him on the shin without upsetting the leftovers or the glass.

When the room was clean, they met each other again on the bed. In the small suite, there wasn't really anywhere else to go or to be. "Hotel living," Anna sighed, "is for the birds. I've already given my notice. I can't stay at the Metro Court now that I know I'm being monitored."

"Where will you go?" Robert asked, pulling her back to lean on him, wrapping one arm around her, taking her hand with his other hand and holding it in his lap.

"I have absolutely no idea," she admitted. "All I know is that I need to be somewhere private."

"That rules out staying with Robin and Patrick," Robert warned. "Whatever you do, promise me you won't resort to that. It was hard enough finding opportunities to be intimate when she was a teenager and fairly clueless; it'll be impossible now that she's an adult and extremely suspicious." A pause. "You know, you're always welcome to stay here."

Anna smiled. "The odd night, sure; for a few hours, yes; but if we want to start this relationship out right, we can't suddenly overwhelm each other. We need our space." She slouched down a bit and rested her head on Robert's chest. "It'll all work out. I'll think of something."

Before they realized, it was after 11:00. Robert stumbled off to the bathroom to brush his teeth, and Anna followed after. They met back in bed, yawning like an old married couple. Anna crawled under the sheets as Robert was setting the alarm. "What time do you want to get up?" he asked.

"I said I'd be a bit late, so I'll get up at 7:00."

"So I should set the alarm for 6:00?" Robert asked, smiling as he fiddled with the buttons.

"Sounds about right," Anna answered sleepily, turning over on her side. "That should be enough time."