"You know I always want to see you. I'm just a little tired tonight, that's all," Anna repeated into the phone as she drew her legs up onto the sofa beneath her.

She'd gone to see Duke the day after the fight at the office, and after a long conversation and a bit of romancing, had finally managed to convince him that he had nothing to worry about where Robert was concerned. To her relief he had promised her there were no hard feelings, and since then their relationship had returned to a reassuring normalcy.

"And it has nothing to do with Robert?" Duke queried.

Anna sighed. Maybe he wasn't completely convinced. "No. He's not even here. He's still at the office."

"Well, that's ok, then," he replied, sounding mollified now and perhaps even a bit mischievous. "But I want to see you tomorrow night. No excuses. At the club, seven thirty. We'll have dinner together – and that will be just the beginning of our night."

The sultry note of suggestion in his voice made Anna feel warm all over. "It's a date," she promised.

"All right, then."

"All right. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Seven thirty."

"Seven thirty," Anna reiterated. "I love you."

"Not as much as I love you."

Anna smiled into the receiver. "Good night."

"'Night."

With a happy sigh Anna hung up the phone and uncoiled herself from the couch. It was getting late and she hoped Robert would be home soon so she could get an update on the Ashley case before bed. A cup of tea was just what she needed to tide her over while she waited.

But she had only taken a few steps towards the kitchen when she felt her heart seize in shock. The figure of a man had suddenly loomed out of Robin's bedroom directly into her path.

It was Roger Barrett, and he was pointing a gun straight at her head.

The car had barely rolled to a stop before Robert was out onto the pavement and half way down the sidewalk. He'd called the PCPD from the car phone on the way, but they wouldn't arrive for another ten minutes or so. He hoped Anna had that kind of time.

He'd parked, if you could call it that, on the block behind Anna's house, so as not to give away his presence if Barrett was already there. Fortunately it was already dark as he slipped between the two homes bordering Anna's back yard. So it was unlikely anyone would see him from the house.

His footfalls were light and silent as he quickly made his way towards the back door – only to have his attention arrested by the sight of an open window along the side of the house. It was the window to Robin's room – and the evening was too cool for anyone inside the house to have left it open on purpose.

So, Barrett was already here.

Robert broke into a run. There was no time to fish for his key and go in through the door to the kitchen. Instead he hoisted himself through the opened window and dropped noiselessly into Robin's bedroom. It, too, was dark, with only a crack of light showing through a small gap in the door leading into the hallway and living room beyond.

He could hear the sound of a voice coming faintly through the door – Anna's, he was sure. Was there another voice with her as well?

Needing to know for sure he strode forward, one hand on the automatic sitting snugly in his jacket pocket, navigating his way as quickly as possible across the dimly lit room. As his free hand stretched towards the door handle his hip brushed against Robin's desk, rocking it and nearly capsizing a pile of drawings and a bowl of marbles that sat a little too near one corner. Like lightning he shot out his free hand and caught the bowl before it fell, holding his breath in fear of a sharp clatter of glass suddenly giving his position away.

To his infinite relief the shiny baubles made no sound as he righted the bowl and set it back on the desk.

Robert exhaled a relieved sigh and slowly, with infinite care, began to inch the door open.

"Don't move!"

Anna froze. It was definitely Roger Barrett – she recognized him at once from earlier in the summer when she, Sean and Robert had caught and interrogated him about Elena's whereabouts. But he'd given them the slip in the Biscayne Islands, and apparently he'd now given the NYPD the slip as well.

"Hands where I can see them."

Very slowly she lifted her hands in compliance.

He nodded. "Now. Where's Scorpio?"

Anna licked her suddenly dry lips. "He's – he's probably still at the office."

Barrett gestured towards the telephone. "Call him. Get him over here. Now."

Anna didn't move.

The gun in the man's hand twitched. "Do it, now."

She stood still, her mind racing, assessing the situation. It was easy to see what he wanted her to do. Wanted her to phone Robert and have him come back to the house, where Barrett would then have them both at his mercy.

Anna felt a preternatural calmness settle over her. He was going to kill her, that much was clear. He was a professional, he was out for revenge, and although she could try to jump him he was standing too far out of reach for her to bring him down before he fired on her from point blank range.

She was going to die, then – so be it. But she would never let him take down Robert too. Her chin rose in defiance. "No."

Barrett took a step forward, his weapon fixed on her unwavering, menace in every line of his body. "I'm not fooling around here," he snarled. "Call him!"

"No."

"Do it, or you're dead!"

"Then kill me," replied Anna without a trace of fear. "I will never lift a finger to help you hurt Robert."

Robert just barely caught himself from bolting into the living room as her calm, level words pierced like an arrow through his heart.

Without time for conscious thought he scooped up a handful of marbles from the bowl on Robin's desk and tossed them into the hallway behind the intruder.

They landed on the wooden floor with an ear-splitting clatter, like the sudden eruption of fireworks, shattering the tense silence. Barrett jerked in surprise and turned instinctively towards the sound.

The instant the gun wavered, Anna pounced.

As a shot rang out and a bullet whistled over Robert's head he saw Anna take two long strides and then leap bodily at Barrett, crashing into his midriff and sending the gun flying. The impact sent the two sprawling down the hallway and as they fell together Robert launched himself after them, bringing his fists together and clubbing them down hard on the back of the man's head.

Barrett collapsed like a felled tree.

Anna rolled smoothly onto her knees and, as if performing her part of a routine that the two of them had long rehearsed, straddled the prone figure on the floor and forced his hands over his head while Robert quickly collected the discarded gun and moved to stand beside her, covering the man with the weapon.

But although Anna was still tensed for a fight, expecting resistance, Barrett was limp under her hands. Cautiously she reached down and lifted his eyelids to check for movement. There was none.

He was out cold.

Yet they couldn't be too certain. Still moving in tandem, Robert stripped off his tie and none too gently bound the motionless man's hands behind his back while Anna grabbed a sturdy scarf from the hall closet and did the same for his legs, leaving him trussed in an untidy heap at their feet.

Finally she straightened, breathing out with a sigh of relief as the realization washed over her that the danger was over. Then her eyes met Robert's and for a stark, blinding moment she was aware of nothing but him.

They stared at one another as time seemed to slow to a stop around them.

Then at some point one of them must have moved, for all of a sudden the space between them vanished. His arms came around her, crushing her to him, as her hands slid up the hard planes of his back and she buried her face in his neck.

They clung tightly to one another, just grateful to both be alive.

They stood together for a long time before their heads lifted in unison. Their mouths were inches apart and suddenly his lips were coming towards hers and hers towards his and they crashed together with a moan that reverberated through both their bodies. Their mouths met with bruising pressure, avid and needy and desperate all at once.

She felt his tongue, probing, questing, and parted her lips beneath his with the eagerness of a new bride. His hands tightened in the small of her back, pressing their bodies even closer, and she slid hers into his hair to pull his head down to hers as their tongues tangled and dueled. It was only when the need for oxygen became essential that they finally broke the kiss with a gasp.

They leaned their foreheads together, arms still locked around each other, breathing as hard as if they had been running.

In the distance, sirens wailed as the Port Charles Police Department raced to the aid of two of their own.