Reunion

Anna stood at the nurses' station as Mac cleared Maxie's room, making sure Peter wouldn't return, calling in the PCPD to guarantee his absence.

Standing away from the scene, resigned to watch, she felt completely alienated from those she loved. Everyone was mad at her, justifiably, she thought. She blew up her wedding. She blew up Maxie's wedding, but she knew it was ultimately for the best. She had to protect her nearest and dearest from Peter August and the legacy of Cesar Faison and, unfortunately, that meant sacrificing this most special day. It meant hurting so many of the people she loved most.

She checked her phone, hoping for a message or call from Finn, but there were no notifications. She'd texted and called him several times but he hadn't responded. Equal parts worried and hurt, she wished he would allow her to explain everything to him and was frustrated at his silence.

Valentin came up behind her, placing a concerned hand on her shoulder.

"Can I give you a ride home?"
"I drove," Anna said, focused on Mac and the activity around Maxie's room.
"I know, but you seem a little distracted. I don't want you driving like this."
"I'm fine," she protested.
"You're not," he observed.
"Fine," she sighed, "I just need to check on a few things with Mac, I'll be right back," she said as she walked over to the madness around Maxie's room.

She moved into the swarm of staff and cops, conferred with Mac for a moment then, looking back to make sure Valentin was distracted, she disappeared beyond the crowd and down the hall, running into Amy Driscoll.

"Nurse Driscoll, could you do me a favor?" Anna asked the bubbly blonde.
"Of course, Ms. Devane! I'd be happy to help!" she said with a wide smile.
"Could you wait about 10 minutes then go to Mr. Cassidine at the nurses' station and let him know I've left and I'll text him tomorrow?"
"Um… sure… Can I ask why?" she asked, her wide eyes blinking.
"I just need time to myself… after everything that's happened today…" Anna confessed.
"Of course, I heard about the wedding," Amy said empathetically, "I totally understand. I'd be happy to relay your message… and sorry about today. I always liked you with Dr. Finn… you seemed to make each other very happy."
"Thanks," Anna said, fighting the urge to cry in front of the perky young woman, "and thank you for your help," she said as she rushed to the stairwell.

She ran down the stairs to the parking garage, fighting tears all the way.

Anna sat in her car, heart pounding. How could it all have ended so badly? She wasn't sure what she expected, but, if she was honest, she still expected to be in Finn's arms, maybe not married, but still together. Instead here she was alone, everyone mad at her while Finn ignored her calls.

She started the car, "Where The Streets Have No Name" playing loud enough to drown out any thoughts, and drove far too fast to an all too familiar location, one free from any memories of Hamilton Finn.

She'd returned to the cabin years ago, after losing Duke, her need for connection so acute she sought out any tangible link. But when she arrived her heart broke. It wasn't the cabin she remembered, it was in disrepair, looted by squatters, gutted by fire, a literal shell of the place she'd once known. Soon she was on the phone, buying the property and arranging for its restoration and renovation. Within a year it'd become a safe place to hide when Port Charles and international espionage became too much. She'd kept the layout the same, familiar and cozy, but added her own touch with materials collected from her travels; reclaimed wood floors from the Hudson Valley, doors from a French chateau, a Spanish mantle, Portuguese tiles, an antique tub from England, each piece making the cabin a reflection of its owner.

Before Finn, she'd spent most of her free time here, finding comfort in old memories, hiking, exploring, even fishing… though she never mastered the skill, didn't even like fish, but it reminded her of Duke, so it brought her peace. She'd go to the cabin and find solace in thoughts of Duke and Robert… even Casey, finding herself wondering about life on Lumina, hoping he was safe.

After Finn, she ignored the place, left it to the spiders, covered in dust cloths, only coming by to make sure no one had broken in. She'd even considered selling it, but now it was the only place she wanted to be.

The two hour drive took an hour and a half that night as she pulled up to the cabin in a swirl of dust. Grabbing the go bag that lived in her trunk. She welcomed the respite, away from Peter, away from Finn, away from everyone.

Anna took in the dusty scene. In her wedding dress surrounded by spiderwebs and covered furniture, she couldn't help feeling like Miss Havisham, jilted and alone. She sighed and laughed ruefully at the maudlin indulgence of comparing herself to Dickens' bitter bride, but then what was she here for if not for a weekend of maudlin indulgence?

"Get it together, Devane," she said to herself, switching on the lights. Thankful she'd remembered to pay the bill.

She made her way to the kitchen, knowing she had to straighten and clean before she felt comfortable, but desperately needing a drink. The pantry was bare, aside from a box of stale crackers and a few cans of expired soup, but, thankfully, there was wine. She opened a bottle and rinsed off a dusty glass, filling it with the garnet liquid, drinking deeply before filling the glass once more.

"Well, it's not gonna clean itself," she said with a sigh as she kicked off her heels and got to work.

With a wine glass in her hand and determination in her eyes she began to tidy up, uncovering furniture, evicting spiders, dusting tables and running a sweeper over the antique Persian rug. She took a moment to appreciate her work and felt a chill, the warmth of exertion subsiding as she felt February's cool touch. It was time for a fire.

Emptying her glass, she stacked logs and fatwood then reached to open the flue, soot and ash covering her arm and chest. It was only then she realized she was still wearing her wedding dress.

"Damn," she said, standing, soot covering her, "Of course…"

She sighed, crossing to the bathroom, taking in the wreck she'd made of herself in the mirror, hair wild, makeup gone, soot and dust on her hands and face, her dress as messy as her wedding day.

Exhausted, Anna emptied the bottle into her glass and retired to the bath. Hot water pouring into the deep cast iron tub, scented with bath oil, warm orange blossoms. She turned on a comforting mix of favorite songs, turning the music up, enveloping the room in sound and scent. Peeling the soiled dress from her body, a dusty pile on the tile floor, then removing the lingerie chosen for Finn's enjoyment, she tied up her hair before sinking into the water's warm embrace with a deep sigh.

Moving about, she allowed the water to swirl around her, relaxing for the first time in weeks, the wine and warmth doing their job. Maybe she could figure out how to fix this mess, if only she could concentrate. Then Buena Vista Social Club began to play, and she was tossed from present problems to Cuba and Finn with his two left feet. She smiled. What he lacked in ability he made up for in buttons undone. Her heart felt heavy and her fingers tingled, sadness swelling once more. Then, as if to tell her she was being ridiculous, "Single Ladies" blasted and the sentimental spell was broken.

She climbed out of the tub with a new resolve, dried herself vigorously, and donned a cozy robe, turning off the music and popping her phone in her pocket.

Then she heard movement in the other room.

"Damn it," she whispered, realizing her gun was in her bag.

She scanned the bathroom for something, anything she could use to defend herself against an intruder, finding only a spray bottle of bleach. It would have to do. It was either that or a curling iron.

"Whoever's out there, I have a black belt and I'm armed!" Anna called out from behind the door.

Brandishing her new found weapon, like her Walther PPK, she opened the door with force to find Robert standing there with two glasses of cognac.

"Please Annie, don't bleach me."

All the tension in her body dissolved, replaced by exasperation.

"What are you doing here, Robert?" she sighed in irritation.
"It didn't seem like you should be alone."
"If I wanted to be with people, I wouldn't have come here."
"I'm not people, Anna, I'm Robert." he said with a smile, handing her a glass.

"How did you even know where to find me?" she asked with equal parts curiosity and annoyance, accepting the glass and taking a soothing sip.
"When I came back to town I was feeling nostalgic, so I came up here. Saw some guys on the roof and was curious so I pulled the work order and saw your name."
"If you've known all this time, why didn't you say something?"
"You'd tell me when you were ready," he said, sipping his drink.
"And why are you here now?"
"Valentin called me, he's worried about you, said you'd disappeared on him and weren't home, so I figured you were here… It's nice… you've changed the place. I like it. Familiar, but modern… very you."
"Thanks," she said with a proud smile, "It was a wreck when I found it, pretty much had to rebuild, so I thought I'd make it more my own. I'll always love Duke, but our styles were so vastly different. I like how it is now, a little less 'granny chic.'"
"And more chic granny," he said with a wink.
"Shut it, gramps," she said, eyes narrowed with a hard smack against his shoulder, before melting into his arms for a hug, "You're not going anywhere are you?"
"Nope. You're stuck with me," he said gently, kissing her forehead.
"Story of my life."

She looked up at him, finding comfort in his embrace.

"You built a fire," she said nestled in his arms.
"Well, you built it, I just lit it. That's why we make a great team," he said, brushing the loose hairs away from her face.
She smelled the air, "And you brought food," she said, with a soft smile.
"Lobster Cantonese, rice, sesame noodles, and an extra egg roll for you, Luv. Didn't want you stuck up here with nothing but anchovies in maple syrup and capers with peanut butter," he said with a wink.
She laughed, "I don't even have that in! Best I could offer is some tomato soup from 2017, so thanks for your forethought. I'll get plates while you unpack."

Anna grabbed silverware and plates, washing them as she watched Robert lay out food, in full caretaker mode. She smiled tenderly as she watched him open each carton with care and manage the chopsticks, breaking them apart, rubbing the rough parts together to smooth out the edges before placing them on top of neatly folded napkins. Finally, he pulled two bottles of water from the bag, opening them and setting them on the table.

"I wasn't sure about the water here," he said, sheepishly.
"It's fine, but I appreciate the attention to detail," she said as she crossed to the table.

She put down plates and they sat down to eat, making small talk as they served each other.

"Thank you, Robert," she said, "I didn't want you here, but I'm glad you came."
"Bobby's always here for you, you know that Annie," he said with a wink and a sip of his cognac.
"You're the only person who can get away with that."
"What?" he asked, grinning.
"Calling me 'Annie.' I hate it," she said, nibbling on an egg roll, "but from you I don't mind it all that much."

They sat and ate quietly, sneaking furtive glances at one another. Robert marveling at how she was still so beautiful after all these years. Time had taken its toll on him, but she seemed virtually untouched. She looked at him, still so rugged and handsome, her first love, the one who convinced her she could love, the man who changed her whole life in one caper.

Robert caught her staring.

"What?" he asked, wondering if he had something on his face.
"You've always been there for me…" she said, quietly, barely audible.
"Not always… I wasn't there in Paris…"
"That doesn't count," she said quickly.
"It should," he whispered, his voice rough with regret.
"It doesn't."
"And when I lost you in Venezuela… Look how much they hurt you…" he said, guilt squeezing his heart.
"That's not your fault."
"I thought I left you in safe hands to recover… I thought staying away would keep you safe, but they still got you. I hate that I couldn't protect you from that damn memory transfer project."
"No one knew what Alex and the DVX were up to back then," she said, placing a gentle hand on his arm.
"I just wish I'd gotten there sooner, that's all…" he said, his voice trailing off, realizing he said too much.
"Wait… What?... What do you mean?" she asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.
"Well," he said before taking a long sip of cognac, "I heard they had you so I abandoned my mission to rescue you, but I was too late. When I found you they'd already messed with your head, you didn't even know who you were."
"When you found me? YOU found me? It was you… you saved me… it was always you, wasn't it? Even Bart…"
"Yeah, we worked together years ago in Tangiers, he was an army medic before the Bureau and a firearms expert, seemed like the perfect person to look after you. He knew you by reputation and knew how important you were to me so he promised to protect you like a bulldog."
"He did. To his dying day. Why didn't he tell me you were still alive?" she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.
"I had to promise myself to an ultra deep cover mission to keep you and Robin safe. I hate that I had to stay away… damned Bureau…" he said, trailing off.
"I know," she said, "If anyone knows, I know…"
"You weren't so understanding when we finally reconnected, though, I think I still have an ache from that roundhouse kick," he said with a smile as he grabbed his side.

Anna laughed, grabbing a handful of soy sauce packets and tossing them at his head.

"It was a rough time, I felt so lost, I remembered who I was but thought you were gone, thought you were dead and nobody told me otherwise. I was convinced you'd stayed dead to stay away from me."
"That's not what happened, Luv," he said, taking her hand.
"I know, but my life was a shambles. I was recovering from a broken heart and a lost child… It was a lot. I just wanted to make my heart hard, like Sean taught me, like I was before I met you, then there you were, alive again."
"By the time I was able to see you, you'd moved on. I didn't want to ruin things. I wanted you happy. I didn't know. I'm so sorry."
"I know," she said, moving closer to him, staring deep into his warm blue eyes, squeezing his hand in reassurance.

They'd forgiven each other so many times, it was the core of their relationship, there was no point in bitterness, it only hurt and never helped.

"You didn't eat much," he said with concern.
"I'm fine. I'm full. Thank you for feeding me. Thank you for being here," she said, taking a sip from her water, pushing back from the table.

Robert stood in front of her, taking both of her hands as he helped her from her chair. He brushed the loose hairs from her face, allowing his thumb to linger along her jaw, gazing into her sad brown eyes.

"You rest, I'll do the washing up," he said, guiding her to the couch.
"I don't have flu Robert, just a broken heart and a sociopath to stop." she said indignantly.
Robert shook his head with a grin, "Now, now, do as Bobby says or you won't get your fortune cookie."

Anna sighed and rolled her eyes as he led her to the couch. She collapsed dramatically. Robert grabbed a throw to cover her and handed her a refilled brandy glass. He tucked her in, a doting nurse, before clearing their dinner plates and cleaning up. When he was done he returned with more brandy and settled in on the couch. Anna curled into him finding strength in his presence, reaching up she removed the pins from her hair, letting it fall free. Without even thinking, Robert began to play with the stray tendrils as he sipped his cognac. Anna sighed, resting her head on his shoulder feeling peace for the first time in a long time, watching the fire dance.

"You promised me a cookie," she said, looking up at him, her eyes big and soft.
"You're right. I did," he said, producing two fortune cookies, "Choose your fate, Devane," he said, eyes twinkling.

She smiled big and broad, the smile that first melted his heart when she walked into Sean's office so many years ago, as she examined the two cookies before making her choice.

"This one," she said, plucking the cookie out of his hand. She unwrapped it and broke it open, reading the small slip of paper contained within its sugary shell.
"So, what's your fortune?" Robert asked, curiously.
She looked at the tiny paper, then up into blue eyes, with a small chuckle, "This is a little too on the nose… 'The greatest achievement in life is to stand up after a fall,'" she read, eyes narrowing, "Did you plan this, Robert?"
"Me?" he asked, innocently, "I wouldn't even know how to manage that. Sometimes fate gives you the fortune you deserve."
"Okay, so what does yours say?"
"I can't tell you," he said matter-of-factly.
"Excuse me?" she said, blinking as she pulled away, her legs curled beneath her, a cat ready to pounce.
"If I tell you it won't come true," he said, "I don't make the rules."
"But I told you mine!"
"Poor form, Devane! You need to be better at keeping your secrets."
"Robert Xavier Scorpio! If you don't tell me your fortune I'll throttle you!" she said, her voice angry but her eyes playful.

Robert laughed as he placed the fortune deep in his pocket, never breaking eye contact. Anna flew at him, laughing, pressing her body against his, her hand reaching, searching for his pocket.

"Your seduction techniques have no effect on me, Mata Hari," he said with a thick German accent, unable to stop laughing, placing a chaste kiss on Anna's lips.

Anna pulled back slightly, looking deep into ice blue eyes, the laughing had stopped, the sound of hearts pounding filled the room. Robert looked down, noticing her robe had shifted, realizing it was the only thing she was wearing. When he looked back up, Anna was kissing him, this time passionately, the kiss of a lover, not a friend, soft and slow, her teeth lingering on his bottom lip. Her hand searching for more than a fortune, caressing him through fabric.

"Anna, what are you doing?" he asked, his voice rough, her lips moving along his jaw.
"What does it feel like?" she whispered, her hand stroking him.

He grabbed her hand and stared into eyes, dark with passion.

"Anna…" he said, full of questions.
"I want to feel something other than guilt and heartbreak… I want to feel wanted and needed and loved… I want to feel you," she pleaded, eyes damp with tears, "Please Robert," she sighed before kissing him again, invading his mouth with her tongue.

He gave into her, and to his own passion, letting his hands rediscover a body he thought he'd never touch again. He kissed her deeply before moving his lips down, the scent of orange blossoms on her skin.

"Oh, Anna," he murmured into her neck, brushing her hair aside and pulling back the collar of her robe, nibbling and tasting his way to her shoulder.

Anna deftly unbuttoned the studs of his shirt and slid the fabric down, then reached at his waistband for his t-shirt. Robert stilled her hand as she grabbed the soft cotton fabric.

"I look different now, Anna, I'm not young anymore."
"None of us are," she said with a gentle smile, as she resumed untucking his shirt.
He grabbed her hand again, "I'm an old man now, Anna," he said, a tinge of sadness in his voice.
"You're my old man," she said with a sly grin, grabbing the fabric and pulling the shirt over his head.

It was true, his skin wasn't as taut as it once was and the golden hair on his chest had turned to silver, but he was perfect because he was Robert. She nimbly addressed the belt, button, and zip of his pants, then let out one of her signature laughs.

"Boxer shorts Robert!? Still!?" she exclaimed, her face alive with amusement.
"Hey, when you find something that works, you stick with it," he said with a smirk on his lips and mischief in his eyes.
"Yeah… that's how it's been for us," she said as she grabbed him by the waistband of the antiquated undergarment and led him to the bed.

They stood in front of one another, gazing into each other's eyes, amazed at the moment about to happen, 30 years in the making. He touched her hair, hand trailing down her neck and chest to the belt of her robe, shaking with want, untying the knot at her waist, fabric opening for him, then falling off her shoulders to the ground.

Robert let out an audible gasp.

"How are you still so beautiful?" he said in wonder.
"Well… I exercise...I moisturize… I'm younger than you…" she said with a small pirouette as she climbed onto the bed.
"Low blow, Devane," he said, trying not to laugh.
"Now that's an idea," she said, her voice dropped, a mischievous look in her eye.
"Anna!" he laughed incredulously.
"Robert!" she mimicked with a broad smile which soon became a passionate pout, her eyes growing dark with desire, "oh Robert…"

She reached for him. He stepped closer, caressing soft skin.

"Sorry I don't have a nightgown for you to peel off," she said as his fingers lingered beneath her collarbone.
"I'll manage," he said, his voice gruff, as he shed his shorts.
"I know you will," she said with a grin, reaching for him as he joined her.

They fell into each other, hands and mouths reclaiming a treasure both thought forever lost.

Robert lingered over her, tracing the features of her face. She opened her lips, allowing his fingers to dip into her mouth, her tongue dancing over each digit. He caressed her chin, his nails slowly tracing down her neck, across her clavicle, drifting over her breasts, her skin tingled, back arched, responding to his touch. His hand turned, spreading, cupping the tender flesh as his mouth moved down to take her in, teeth, lips, and tongue enjoying the taste and feel of her. As his lips savored her skin his hand floated down, grazing her soft inner thigh, her legs opening in response. Fingers finding their destination, dipping in one, then two, his thumb pressing and coaxing her ecstasy.

Her hips rocked at his attention, lips releasing a series of soft moans and sighs.

"Robert," she whispered.

His mouth found the spot on her neck that drove her crazy, a spot only Robert knew. She shivered in acceptance, her arms encircling him.

"Oh… yes… please…" she breathed.

Her body quaked, squeezing his diligent fingers, her eyes rolled back as she came.

Taking her face in his hands, he devoured her mouth, both gasping for breath, 30 years gone in a sigh. She reached down to stroke him, feeling him twitch at her touch, a wanton smile spreading across her beautiful face.

He sunk himself into her and she gasped in acceptance, moving to a dance whose choreography they'd learned decades ago. Her body rocked beneath him as he moved into her, legs opening and wrapping around him, pulling him deeper still. Fingers tangled in his hair as he placed kisses along her chest. It felt both familiar and new, like discovering something new in a song you'd always loved. It felt like home.

"I missed this," she sighed, between heavy breaths.
"Me… too…" he replied in stuttered breath as she moved beneath him.
"To think… all these years we've been fighting, we could have been…" she growled, taking control, moving over him, lowering herself onto him with a moan, "this…"

"Oh... my... Anna…" he rumbled into her neck, his hands working her body, holding her tightly as she rocked above him.

Her rhythm increased as she began to shake once more, passion overpowering as moans became screams. She came and he followed, both calling the other's name as if it were a prayer.

They collapsed into each other, their breath and hearts syncing, one breath, one beat, filling the cool night air.

Anna rested her head on Robert's chest, her fingers curling through silver hair.

"How are you?" he asked, caressing her shoulder.
"Good. Great. I forgot how good we were together," she said with a smile as she placed soft kisses on his chest, tasting the salty brine of his sweat.
"We really are." he said with a grin, fingers combing through her hair.
"Shame we don't have Italian ice," she said, looking up at him with a grin, remembering a cozy bed and a warm Sanremo summer.
"I tried, but it's February…" he said, drawing lazy circles on her back.
"You did!?" she burst out, looking up at him.
"I did, but the vendor doesn't open until May, I guess I owe you…" he said with a raised eyebrow.
She moved up his body, planting kisses on the way to his lips, "I intend to cash in this IOU, Scorpio."
"You better, Devane," he said before kissing her again.
"So… I guess you sort of owe me… since I didn't get my cherry ice…" she said, with a coy smile.
"Oh?" he asked, with a raised eyebrow, "I feel like I just gave you my all, what could I possibly owe you?"
She kissed him long and slow, taking his bottom lip in her teeth as she sucked it into her mouth, lingering in the pleasure of control, "Your fortune… What was it?"
"Alright!" he exclaimed with a loud laugh, "I surrender, Agent Devane! It's in my pocket."

Her smile would make the Cheshire Cat seem glum as she climbed out of bed, slinking, firelight playing on the curves of her naked body.

"I knew you'd succumb to my charms," she said, her hand digging into the fabric of his pocket.
"I always do," he said with a resigned, yet satisfied, sigh.

She found the slip and read the words, her face shifting from sultry to soft as tears began to well in her eyes.

"Oh, Robert…" she sighed, placing the tiny paper on the side table.
"Is it true?" he asked hopefully.
"You know it is, always has been, no matter what." she said as she made her way back to him, back to his open arms.
"Never?" he asked with a kiss.
"Never ever, you know that," she said, staring deeply into steel blue eyes, hands running through his hair.

He placed a light kiss on her nose, then her eyelids, then down to her mouth as she wrapped her arms and legs around him longing to be a part of him once more.

The fading firelight played on both their bodies as they rediscovered one another, the air filled with soft moans and sighs. Light flickering over the small fortune finally out in the open, one that was always true, "Your first love has never forgotten you."