Title : The List
Author : Steph
Rating : PG
Pairing : Robin/Patrick
Category : Humor/Romance/Good Old-Fashioned Fluff
POV : Robin
Disclaimer : I do this out of a love for this couple. No infringement is intended.
Spoilers : Nope.
Summary : Patrick helps Robin complete the things on her list that she wants to do in her life. (Sequel to 'How to Get a Player to Commit')

Note : Thanks for the feedback! Okay, so this chapter is ridiculous. I mean, the nature of the item on the list they're completing kind of demands that it be. If I were watching this happen on the show, I'd roll my eyes, wonder if it were a dream/fantasy sequence, then just sit back and enjoy it. So, take it for what it's worth! Oh and some of the things I have them do I found on the Internet so people have apparently done these things in real life before. Anyway, hope you enjoy it and please let me know what you thought. -Steph

--- The List: To Do # 10 - Make a Complete and Utter Fool of Yourself ---

I groan and lean my head back on the seat, as I cross 'Skydive' off the list. My entire body's sore from spending two hours stuck in a tree. It took Barry and Pa an hour to find a ladder that would go high enough to reach us. Even then, it still couldn't quite reach us, so Barry and Pa decided that they would need to wrap a rope around our waists, then cut the parachute cord and we would be able to lower ourselves down to the ladder. Barry said he didn't have any rope, so he went in search of twine. And here's the ironic part - he didn't have any! Two hours later, some rope was found at Pa's and we were freed. Pa drove us back to the bus station. We had our ticket stubs so they let us get on the next bus going our way.

Patrick lets out a sigh and turns to me, leaning over to glance at the list. His brow furrows and he points at number 21. "Why isn't that one crossed off?"

I read it aloud. "Make a complete and utter fool of yourself."

He nods. "Yeah, haven't we done that one already...over and over again."

My lips curl into a smile. "Well, you certainly have."

He frowns. "You've had your moments, too."

I shrug my shoulders and tap the paper with my pen. "Those things that happened to us don't count."

"And why not?" he asks

"Because we didn't do them with the intention of making complete and utter fools of ourselves. They happened by accident. The point of the list is to set out to do each item. We can't just go cross them off now after the fact. Plus, they happened when trying to complete other items on the list. It just wouldn't be fair to cross it off."

His eyes grow wide. "Fair? Robin, it's your list. There are no rules. There's no fair. You decide what gets crossed off and when."

"That's right and that's what I just did."

He squeezes his eyes closed and runs his hand down his face, shaking his head. "I can't believe after everything we've been through you're going to now force us to try to make fools of ourselves."

I smile and pat his thigh. "Come on, it'll be fun. Freeing, really. I mean, to just do something with intention of making a fool of yourself is fun. You expect it, it's the desired result, so you can just let loose. Aren't you the one always telling me to just let loose?"

He mutters, "I knew that would come back to bite me in the ass someday."

I look around at the bus. It's pretty empty. There's a group of six female Senior Citizens apparently traveling to New York City. I know because they're wearing matching t-shirts that say, "NYC or Bust". The only other occupants is a family of three. The parents are sitting up front with the elderly ladies. Their young teenage son made it a point to get as far away from them as possible. He's chose to sit at the back of the bus, right across from us.

I turn to Patrick. "You know, we should just do it right now."

Patrick arches an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, I guess my threshold for torture and humiliation is less than yours. I need to wait at least an hour before exposing myself again or my head will explode. You know, kind of like waiting an hour to go swimming after eating."

"That's a myth."

"Which one?"

"Come on," I say, elbowing him. "What better time? It's not like we'll ever see any of these people again. If we wait, then we might be forced to complete number 21 in the presence of our family, friends and co-workers. Hmm, I bet Epiphany will especially enjoy herself."

Patrick drops his head back onto the seat dramatically and blows out a long breath. "Fine. What did you have in mind?"

I tap my pen against my temple and then point it at him. "I have no idea. I was hoping you would have something."

He rolls his head over and looks at me. "Not a chance, babe."

"Excuse me?" the teenage boy across from us says, as he leans across the aisle.

Patrick and I eye him. He looks to be about fourteen with bright, curly red hair and freckles dotting his face. He has pale blue eyes and a wide smile reveals braces on his teeth. He's wearing baggy jeans and one of those funny t-shirts with messages across the front. His says, "The Thing About the Voices in My Head is They Actually Have Some Pretty Good Ideas".

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help but overhear. You're trying to think of something to do to make complete fools of yourselves, right?"

Patrick shifts in his seat, but nods. "Yeah, that's right."

A smile spreads across the boy's lips. "Oh, awesome! That is totally awesome! That makes this stupid, lame trip so much better! My parents," he says, shooting a glare to the front of the bus, "decided to take a cross country trip on a bus. I mean, who does that? I've seen this country from a bus window. You haven't seen Mt. Rushmore until you've seen it through a dirty glass window. At least, I will have visited the best restrooms the U.S. has to offer." He pauses and then sticks his hand out, "I'm Shawn by the way."

Patrick hesitates a moment before shaking his hand. "Patrick." He then gestures to me. "And this is my girlfriend, Robin."

I reach across Patrick and shake his hand. "Nice to meet you, Shawn."

He rubs his hands together. "So, I hope you don't think this is weird, but I have an idea for what you can do to humiliate yourselves."

It doesn't sound so good when he says it like that. I glance at his t-shirt again. I wonder who's idea this is: His or the voices in his head?"

He notices my eyes and offers me a sheepish grin. "Oh, that's only a joke." He then pauses and adds in a deadpan voice, holding up his forefinger, "There's just the one voice."

Patrick and I laugh, as Shawn slaps his knee.

Patrick looks over at him and smiles. It seems as if he actually likes a kid outside his own family.

"So what's this idea of yours?"

Shawn grins and leans forward, putting his elbows on his knees. "Okay, I went to my cousin's wedding a few weeks ago and her parents, my aunt and uncle, got really, really drunk. They forced the band to play this song by this really, really old group. Captain and Tentacle or something like that."

I smile. "Captain and Tennille?"

"That's it!" he says, pointing at me. He runs his tongue across his braces and makes a sucking noise. "And the song was really cheesy and corny and dumb."

"Love Will Keep Us Together," Patrick states flatly.

"Yes!" Shawn says and slaps Patrick's arm, as he jumps up and down excitedly.

I look at Shawn for a moment, wondering about the wisdom in accepting ideas from a boy wearing that t-shirt.

"So, anyway, they completely humiliated themselves. It didn't even matter that they were drunk. That song will make a complete fool out of anyone who sings it."

I glance at Patrick and he nods. I have to agree.

Patrick takes deep breath and slowly lets it out. "Okay, let's get this over with."

Shawn's eyes widen and he jumps out of his seat, throwing his arms in the air. "Really! Oh, awesome! Totally awesome! You guys are awesome!"

I smile at Patrick. "Are you sure about this?"

"I'm all for crossing that one off as soon as possible. This idea is as good as any."

He then stands up and extends his hand to me. I place my hand in his and join him in the aisle.

Here goes nothing. Our intention is to feel completely foolish, so I don't see the point in wasting the energy being nervous. But Patrick and I still stand there, not saying a word.

Shawn leans over the seat and looks up at us. He says quietly, "Love, love will keep us together."

Patrick licks at his lips and I swallow hard. We sing in unison, our voices shaking, "Love, love will keep us together."

At the sound of our voices echoing around the bus, all six Senior Citizen heads and Shawn's parents turn to us.

Shawn smiles at me and whispers, "Own the song!"

I take a deep breath and turn to look at Patrick. "Think of me babe whenever,
some sweet talking girl comes along, singing her song, don't mess around, you gotta be strong. Just stop, 'cause I really love you! Stop, I'll be thinking of you. Look in my heart and let love keep us together."

Despite the corniness of the song, I still find myself reacting to the lyrics as I look into his eyes.

He takes the next part, looking into my eyes as he sings. "You, you belong to me now. Ain't gonna set you free now. When those girls start hanging around, talking me down, hear with your heart and you won't hear a sound. Just stop, 'cause I really love you. Stop, I'll be thinking of you. Look in my heart and let love keep us together, what ever."

I look at Patrick in amazement. I just found another thing he's skilled at. The man can sing! I've heard him sing in the shower a little, but that's it. I didn't think his voice could get any sexier, but it obviously can. His singing voice is deep and husky and sexy as hell. And the way he looked at me when he sang those words? My knees got so weak I nearly fell over.

I must be just staring at him because he elbows me. "I, uh.." I realize then that I don't know the rest.

I whisper to Patrick. "I don't know anymore."

He puts his arm around me and says in my ear, "Me neither. Let's just finish with the chorus."

We then both sing, "Stop, 'cause I really love you. Stop, I'll be thinking of you. Look in my heart and let love...keep us together."

As we finish, our chests deflate in relief. We look at the other passengers. Patrick and I were so caught up in each other that we didn't really let ourselves feel embarrassed. But the moment these passengers burst out laughing at the crazy couple who just stood up and started singing like they're in some damn musical, we'll surely feel like complete and utter fools.

But instead of laughing, they start clapping and smiling. Patrick and I exchange a confused look.

We look down at Shawn who shrugs, "Maybe you do have to be drunk."

They liked us? They enjoyed it? They don't think we're insane?" I ask.

One of the Senior Citizens manages to stand, even with a cane. She has a straw hat on over her curly gray hair. "That was wonderful! I had no idea this was one of those entertainment buses. I thought it was just a Greyhound.

Patrick and I close our eyes and shake our heads. It's then that I realize in order to make a complete and utter fool of yourself you need the cooperation of others. If you fall down and no one's around to see it, do you feel embarrassed? Not really. Embarrassment comes from the reaction of others, from what they think of us and what they do to show it.

And these people are not cooperating!

I raise my hand. "This isn't an entertainment bus."

The woman's brow wrinkles. "Oh."

Just then, Shawn stands up. "But they are entertainers. They call themselves the...uh...Traveling...uh...Entertainers. They go around entertaining people in public places."

Patrick and I look at him in shock.

"Clever name," Patrick says through gritted teeth.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

He whispers at us out of the corner of his mouth. "This way you can keep doing crazy stuff and they won't think anything of it."

I shake my head. "You don't get it. If they think we're entertaining them, then they'll react like they just did. They won't laugh at us and we won't feel like fools. It all depends on their reaction."

Shawn laughs. "Are you serious? Stick with me. I'll make sure you complete number 21. My friends and I come up with ways to make fools of ourselves all the time. I live in a small town. It's our entertainment. I'm an expert. Trust me, it doesn't matter what their reaction is if you make what you're doing stupid and crazy enough. You will feel like a fool."

I cover my face with my hands. Why are we listening to a fourteen year old Ronald McDonald look-a-like?

Patrick and I sit down. Shawn turns to us. I suddenly feel like he's our manager.

"All right, how about this? Have you see the movie 'Speed'?"

I roll my eyes and let out a loud groan. "Oh, God."

Patrick turns to Shawn a smile spread across his lips. "I love that movie!"

No kidding. He's made me watch it six times since we've been together.

Shawn's eyes light up. "Me too!" He pauses and then does his best Dennis Hopper impression, "Pop quiz, hotshot. There's a bomb on a bus. Once the bus goes 50 miles an hour, the bomb is armed. If it drops below 50, it blows up. What do you do? What do you do?"

Patrick laughs. "I love that line!"

I let out a breath. Great. I'm in love with a fourteen year old boy. And here I was thinking he was beginning to mature.

Shawn smiles, "So, why don't you recreate a scene from that movie? It's perfect. We are on a bus."

He must be kidding. That will be really embarrassing. There's no way Patrick would agree to-..."

"That's a great idea!" Patrick says, clapping his hands together.

"What?" I say weakly.

Shawn goes on, "Yeah, you can be like, 'There's a bomb on this bus'."

Patrick nods, as my eyes nearly fall out of my head.

"Yeah, sure, great idea...if you want to get arrested! Patrick, are you insane!"

Patrick smiles and puts his arm around my shoulders. "Robin, they think we're Traveling Entertainers."

"You do know how stupid that sounds, right?"

"Hey!" Shawn says.

"No offense, Shawn," I mutter. "Patrick, I really-..."

I'm cut off by Shawn standing up and yelling, "Scenes from the movie 'Speed'. Action!"

The passengers quickly turn around in their seats, their faces eager to see what we've got planned. Shawn's parents don't seem to be fazed by their son's involvement.

"Oh, goody! There's more!" one of the women says.

I look up at Patrick and I can tell from the look on his eyes that he is fulfilling yet another childhood dream: Playing an action star.

He holds his arms out to the side and his hands up, "There's a bomb on this bus!"

One of elderly women gasps, before being elbowed by her friend and laughing.

Patrick then looks down at me.

"What?" I whisper.

"You're Annie and you're driving."

I groan loudly. I honestly can't believe this is my life. Less than a week ago, I was a respected doctor. After this, I'm not sure my name and the word 'respect' will be allowed in the same sentence. I only have myself to blame. I made the list. I put stupid number 21 on there.

"We're skipping ahead I guess?" I ask flatly.

"Ask me if I'm a cop," he says, out of the side of my mouth.

"Pretend you're driving," Shawn says, motioning with his hands like he's steering.

I roll my eyes for the umpteenth time and bring my arms up, as I say in a monotone, "So, you're a cop, right?"

"That's right."

I state my lines without any emotion. I practically have the movie memorized by now.

"Well, I should probably tell you that I'm taking the bus because I had my driver's license revoked."

Shawn leans toward me and says, "More oomph! You need to feel the character!"

Who is this kid? Dillon? I offer him an icy glare and he bows his head, settling back into his seat.

"What for?" Patrick goes on.

I smile. "Speeding."

The passengers start laughing. I should be feeling like a complete and utter fool now, right? I mean, this isn't normal, everyday stuff. But they're not laughing at us. They're enjoying us. And I can't feel like a complete and utter fool if they like us. I look at Patrick. He's enjoying this way too much to feel foolish.

Patrick looks down at me. "It's a game. If he gets the money he wins, if the bus blows up, he wins."

Moving on I guess.

I meet his eyes. "What if you win?"

"Then tomorrow we'll play another game."

"But I'm not available to drive tomorrow...Busy."

They laugh again and then start clapping.

"Wonderful, just wonderful!" our original number one fan says, as she gives us a standing ovation and nearly falls over when the bus jerks.

Patrick and I sit down. I stare at Shawn. "This isn't working."

"You didn't feel like a fool?"

"Not a complete and utter one."

Patrick shrugs. "Me neither."

I scoff. "Please, you loved every second."

He smiles and nods, "It was pretty fun."

I sigh in frustration. This shouldn't be so hard. We've done such a good job making complete and utter fools of ourselves up until this point. Now, when we want to, nothing. Figures. It's not like anything else has gone right for us while trying to complete this list.

Just then, we pull into a rest stop. Shawn turns to us, grinning.

"I've got it. My friends and I have a whole list of stupid things to do at fast food restaurants. We do them every weekend. This will work."

Again, I'm not sure if it's wise listening to a kid who spends his free time composing lists of stupid things to do at fast food restaurants.

---

Shawn leans in close to us as we stand in the McDonald's at the rest stop. "Okay, this is what you do. You walk up to the counter, look up at the menu for at least three full minutes, squinting, then you point and order something that's not on the menu. Make it something really specific and different, nothing a fast food restaurant would have. I guarantee you the cashier will turn around and look at the menu to check it. Trust me, it's great."

Patrick nods, while I simply shake my head.

He goes on, "Then, when you go to pay, pay in pennies."

"We don't have many pennies," I point out.

Shawn reaches into his backpack and pulls out a freezer size Ziploc bag full of pennies.

"Why on earth are you carrying all of those pennies with you?"

He arches his eyebrows. "I'm on a cross country trip with my parents on a Greyhound bus. I've been doing this penny thing at every fast food restaurant we stop at. It's the only thing that stops me from throwing myself under that bus."

Patrick laughs and I can't help but chuckle.

"Come on, it will be great. It drives the cashiers crazy. And you will feel like total fools. I promise."

He then gives us a shove in the direction of the counter. Patrick and I walk up slowly.

"Hi, may I take your order?" a teenage girl with pimples all over face and pigtails asks flatly, as she plasters on a smile.

"In a sec," Patrick says.

Then we both squint up at the menu, our heads scanning it back and forth. I count in my head. After one minute, the cashier begins to tap her foot impatiently. After two minutes, she begins to sigh loudly. After three minutes, she lets out a groan.

"Are you ready yet?"

Patrick offers her a charming grin. "Yes, thank you for your patience." He then squints up at the menu again and points at the right side, "I'd like one chicken marsala dinner, hold the mushrooms. With that, I'd like a side of your fettucine carbonara, hold the peas. Oh and to drink I would like a...Strawberry...Frizzle."

He then looks back at her and grins. I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing, as her mouth hangs open and she turns her head to look at the menu, as if in slow motion. Her gaze follows where Patrick is pointing.

She then turns back to face him. "Uh, we don't have that."

"Oh, you're all out?"

"No, I mean that's not on our menu."

"You mean because I don't want mushrooms or peas?"

"No, I mean because we don't have stuff like that here."

"So you don't do substitutions? What about having it my way?"

"That's Burger King, sir."

Patrick sighs. "Well, I have a good mind to speak to your manager, but you're lucky that I am exhausted by this trip. I'll find something else. He turns to me, "Why don't you order, honey?"

I nod and squint and point just like him, "I'd like the Lobster Value Meal with a side of Sweet Potato Fried Chips and the Fiesta Corn. To drink...a glass of white Zinfandel."

I smile back at the cashier. Again, her mouth hangs open and she slowly turns her head to follow where I am pointing.

Then she looks back at me. "That's not on the menu."

"Sure, it is. Number 3 on the Value Meal Menu. It's right there," I say, pointing.

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

"No, it's not."

"Are you calling me a liar? What happened to the customer's always right?"

She groans and stomps her foot. "But we don't have any Lobster. This is McDonald's."

I finally sigh. "Fine, what do you have then?"

She rolls her eyes and points at the menu.

"I guess I'll have one of those cheeseburger things, a small fry, medium Sprite. Honey?" I say, looking up at Patrick.

"A Big Mac. It sounds intriguing. Large fry. Large Coke."

The girl lets out a breath, as she punches in our order. I sigh sadly though. This isn't working so far though. I'm just having fun. I look over at Shawn and he gives me a thumbs up. I realize this is what I should have been doing when I was a teenager. Stupid, harmless, fun stuff. I guess it's never too late.

The cashier tells us the total and Patrick reaches down to pick up the bag of pennies. He makes a huge production of lifting it up, complete with panting and grimacing, then plops it down on the counter with a loud thud. The girl's eyes widen and her mouth drops open so wide I could stick a Big Mac in it.

"Just a minute," he says, as he unzips the bag and begins counting out pennies. I help by forming stacks of ten.

I glance over at Shawn who's nearly falling over with laughter.

"41, 42, 43, 44, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50..."

She continues to stare at us in shock. I half-expect her to start drooling. The longer we stand there though, the less fun this feels and the closer I get to feeling foolish. Patrick looks like he's experiencing the same thing. I can tell from his reddening face.

Just then, our biggest fan comes up. She looks at us and laughs. "Oh, you must be doing some improv!" She then looks at the cashier. "They're Traveling Entertainers!"

The cashier let's out a huge breath and starts laughing. "Oh, thank God! I was beginning to think I was on Candid Camera!" Her laugh subsides quickly though and she holds her hand out, "Okay, now quit the games and pay up."

Patrick and I throw a glare at our number one fan. He then reaches into his wallet and pulls out some bills. He hands them to the cashier and we take our food to our seats.

Shawn sits down next to us. "That was totally awesome!"

I dip my fry in ketchup dejectedly. "I didn't feel like a fool. It was fun annoying her."

Patrick smiles at me, "She loves annoying people. It's a favorite past time of hers."

I smack his arm. He shrugs. "She's right. It was fun. It may have worked if that lady didn't interrupt us."

Shawn puts his head in his palm. "Huh, you guys are tough. All right, I've got one more thing. Stand by the trash and don't let anyone throw anything out until they pay the fee. Say it's McDonald's new policy."

Patrick and I sigh, but nod tiredly. We finish our food and then take up spots at garbages across the restaurant from each other. I watch as a boy about ten walks up to Patrick. Patrick speaks to him and then holds his hand out. The boy then proceeds to kick him in the shin.

Ouch! That's gotta hurt.

While Patrick is bending over to rub at his leg, the boy reaches over him and throws his trash away.

Patrick looks at me and mouths, "I'm out", and goes to sit down.

I sigh. Quitter.

A minute later, an old woman comes up to me. Thankfully, she's not from our bus.

"Excuse me, dear. I would like to throw my trash away, please."

"Yes, ma'am. Just pay the fee. $1.50," I say, as I hold my hand out.

She looks at me for a moment, then opens up her purse. "Okay, that seems reasonable." She pulls two dollar bills out of her wallet. "Here you go, dear. Keep the change as your tip."

I stand there wide-eyed, as she places the money in my hand. I do manage to move aside. I look over at Patrick and Shawn who are smiling. I let out a guttural groan and then walk over to them, sinking down into my seat.

Patrick looks at me. "Hey, get back over there and make us some more money. We're running low."

I scowl at him. "Funny. How's the leg, quitter?"

"I gave it my best try."

I drop my head onto the table. "I give up."

Shawn pats my arm comfortingly.

---

Patrick and I spend the rest of the trip sleeping. Turns out, actually trying to make complete and utter fools of ourselves is very tiring. We sleep for hours and hours. Shawn and our fans get off in New York City. We thank Shawn for his help and wish him luck on the rest of his journey.

We continue onto Port Charles.

I glance at Patrick. "I never asked you. What did you say when you called Alan and told him we were using a few of our vacation days after the conference? I know it wasn't the truth."

"I told him we got to talking with some of the presenters and wanted to spend a few days picking their brains and getting their input on some possible experimental procedures and drug protocols we're thinking of developing."

"And he bought that?"

"It sounds a lot more plausible than we were robbed by Ken and Barbie, don't ya think?" he asks with a grin.

I smile and shrug. "And when are we expected back at work?"

Patrick looks at his watch. "Oh, two hours."

"Two hours? We won't even have time to go unpack or shower or change," I say in a voice bordering in a whine.

"Throw some scrubs on and shower in the locker room when you get a chance." He pauses and then adds. "And remember, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas."

I nod. "And Cawker City."

He smiles and puts his arm around my shoulders. "So, about number 21?"

"We'll cross it off eventually, but I'm done trying for now."

He kisses my forehead. "Who would have thought it would be so hard making complete and utter fools of ourselves? We seemed to be naturals at it."

"Speak for yourself," I say with a grin.

---

Two hours later, Patrick and I drag ourselves into the nurses' station. We changed into scrubs and our labcoats, but that's all we had time to do. Patrick still looks amazingly fresh and rested. I, on the other hand, look like I just got back from a vacation in hell. Which isn't altogether untrue.

Epiphany comes walking to us. "Well, well, well. Look who's back."

"Epiphany, it's good to see you," I say with a smile and a nod."

"Miss me?" Patrick asks with a grin.

She cocks her head. "Miss you? The absence of your oversize ego in this nurses' station made moving around so much easier."

"I know that's just your way of saying yes. You can't find the words. I know, sometimes I can't find them either," he replies, his grin widening, as he puts his arm around her shoulders.

Epiphany smiles and shakes her head. "Oh, I nearly forgot," she says. She then leans down and pulls a bag out from beneath the counter. "The hotel you were staying at overnighted your wallets. Apparently, they found them in the dumpster behind the hotel, nothing in them but your hospital I.D.s."

Patrick and I exchange a look. I swallow. "Oh, uh, yeah, someone broke into our hotel room and stole Patrick's wallet and my purse...while we were out of the room."

"Oh really."

"Yup, that's what happened," Patrick says, nodding.

"Huh. I guess they lied to me then. Because I called the hotel to make sure you were all right and they said you checked out a few days ago after having your keycards replaced because they were stolen. They also said several other guests reported that two people named Ken and Barbie posed as a couple that was getting married, engaged them in conversation, and then stole all of their personal belongings. So, I put two and two together. But if you guys are telling me that someone stole things out of your hotel room while you were out, then the hotel staff must have lied to me because I know you two wouldn't lie to me."

Patrick and I drop our heads.

"Put your hands up!" a familiar male voice comes from behind us.

We raise our head just in time to see Epiphany bite her lip to keep from laughing.

"Give us everything you have!" a familiar female voice says.

Patrick and I squeeze our eyes closed and then slowly turn around. We open our eyes up to find Dillon with a brown wig, plaid shirt, khaki pants and sweater over his shoulders. Lulu is wearing a long platinum blond wig and a short, white skirt, pink blouse and matching sweater over her shoulders.

They're pointing pink water guns at us.

"Come on, give it up. Barbie and I need to renovate our Dream House," Dillon says.

"That's right. And my Barbie-mobile could use a tune-up," Lulu adds.

I sigh. "Very funny, guys."

Patrick throws a look over his shoulder at Epiphany. "I guess Epiphany told you."

"Epiphany told everyone," Dillon says with a grin.

We both groan. I rub at my face. "Okay, joke's over. You got us. You can put the guns down now."

Lulu shakes her head. "Not until we get what we came for."

"You mean our dignity? Sorry, but you're a little late. We lost what remained of it about five days ago," Patrick replies.

Dillon shakes his head, trying his best not to smile. "No, your best Captain and Tennille impression."

Our mouths drop open. How did he know?

Dillon allows his smile to cross his lips. "Shawn picked up one of your bags by accident. Inside, it had your work number. He called here, told Epiphany who he was, and just happened to mention what happened on the bus."

Lulu and Dillon then laugh and walk off.

Patrick's eyes follow them. He speaks without looking at me.

"Cross it off."

"Way ahead of you," I say, smiling and nodding, as I'm already digging into my labcoat pocket.

---

The List: To Do # 11 - Scuba Dive the Great Barrier Reef

Thanks for reading. Please let me know what you thought. -Steph