Fall Out

Chapter Two

(Themes: Touch me, Tease me & Always)

"Oh my god, Trina!? Are you alright?" Spencer rushed to help the young woman, soaked from head to toe by the pouring rain and half-covered in mud.

Trina smiled with pained embarrassment and then squealed with dismay as Spencer immediately stepped onto the flagstones in front of the main entrance of Wyndemere and swept her up into his strong arms. "Your clothes!"

"Can be cleaned." He countered absently, his heart pounding as he kicked the door shut behind them and immediately turned toward the stairs to take them to his third-floor bedroom suite.

He spied one of the maids along the way and called out to her, "Miss Rhea! Would you mind putting on a kettle and bringing us tea?"

Rhea, an older, motherly-looking Greek woman dressed in a simple black sweater and jeans with graying hair in a long braid and a solid physique, immediately surmised the situation. She spoke with an accented, quiet voice that brooked no argument, "Earl grey for you and Lemon, Ginger Echinacea with honey for the young lady, yes? It will stave off a cold and warm her insides." She nodded, "I will also bring avgolemono soup, and we have fresh pita from town."

Spencer nodded, "That sounds perfect, thank you."

Rhea nodded and glanced at her watch, "Twenty minutes." She immediately passed them, lifting a phone or walkie-talkie to her ear to softly relay commands as she disappeared down the stairs.

Trina sighed, "You didn't need to do all that, and Miss Rhea didn't have to go through all that trouble!"

Spencer was amused as they neared his suite doors, "Yeah, you're going to have to fight her on that yourself. I'll slay a dragon for you, but I'm not going to argue with Miss Rhea when she's in protective mother-bear mode. No, ma'am."

Trina chuckled and sighed, nuzzling Spencer's neck and giving it a soft kiss.

Spencer entered his suite and set Trina down, immediately grasping onto her when he heard a sharp inhalation of pain. "You're hurt! Why didn't you say something?"

"When was I gonna get a word in edgewise when you're whisking me up like a superhero and smelling all good and distracting and…stuff?"

Spencer smiled despite himself, whisking her off her feet again and setting her gently on the sofa.

"Spencer, your furniture!"

"Can also be cleaned. Honestly, you're so materialistic, my love." He gently teased as he knelt in front of her, his gaze roaming the slightly soggy, muddy frame as he tried to locate her injury. As of now, all he could see was the black, hooded raincoat she wore, jeans, and platformed converse on her feet. Half of her was covered in a fine film of mud, though streaky due to the rain.

Trina's amused scoff of disbelief didn't deter him as he continued, "Let's focus on the matter at hand. You're hurt. Please tell me where and what happened!" His light-hearted tone was in complete opposition to his expression. He was as serious as a heart attack- which he was nearly having at the idea that he could have lost this remarkable woman.

Trina sighed and relented, "I got off the launch and headed up the path to Wyndemere, as I've done hundreds of times in the last two months. Along the way, I got distracted because this gorgeous primrose was growing on the side of the path. So, I stepped a little to the side to take a closer look at it, and I slipped. I lost my footing and twisted my ankle, and.." she gestured.

Spencer steadied himself with a slow breath, trying not to imagine the other hundred possible outcomes that could come from slipping in the mud on the way up an incline of an island, surrounded by turbulent waters during a near torrential downpour.

He watched her face intently, "How much pain do you feel? On a scale of 1-10, with ten being we need to airlift you to GH right this instant."

Trina was going to make a joke. Then she caught Spencer's expression. There was a wariness to him, a tension in his shoulders. He was holding himself very still. He was terrified for her.

Trina reached out, laid her palm against his strong jaw, and spoke softly, reassuringly, "It's a three. I swear it doesn't hurt that much. It's just tender."

He studied her expression and was surprised by how hard it was to just…let it go. Hard to release the panic and drama of the situation.

"Spencer?" Trina leaned forward until her forehead touched his, her hand resting along his neck.

Spencer closed his eyes, inhaled her sweet scent, and reveled in her nearness and touch, "I'm sorry. I've been working with Kevin on being more aware of my triggers."

He could feel her brow furrow. Her voice was soft and intimate as she murmured, "Do you want to talk about it? You don't have to, but I'm here if you want."

Spencer's dark brown eyes opened, and Trina could feel the warmth and affection of his gaze. This close, she could see that his irises weren't one shade of brown but that there were subtle whirls of chocolate and chestnut fringed by thick dark lashes.

Trina sighed to herself in appreciation.

He was such a beautiful man; and a troubled one.

Spencer felt Trina's regard and nodded, "I do, but first, let's get you out of these wet clothes and into a hot bath."

Trina blinked, "Wait, I just need a towel. I'm fine!" She insisted.

"Trina, I'm grateful that your pain is minimal, but you have mud all over you." He gently touched her cheek, temple, and neck and showed her her hand- all covered in a layer of drying mud, bits of grass, and cracked dirt.

Trina got to her feet and was pleased that her ankle felt a little better already, though there was still an unpleasant twinge. Spencer stood with her and immediately began the work of unbuttoning her coat.

She waited until he peeled it off before limping around him to look at her reflection in the full-length mirror mounted on the door of his bedroom closet. He set the coat aside and followed a step behind her to be sure she didn't need any assistance.

Trina observed her appearance with dismay. The rain completely melted away most of her mascara or let it leave its dark, watery tracks down her face. Her lip gloss was barely visible, and most of her makeup was gone. Luckily her long, thick black hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail which missed out on all of the muddy fun.

She looked at her arm and found one particularly icky blob of mud that oozed its way up her wrist to her elbow, gluing the fabric of her sweater to her. She sighed, "Okay, fine. I need fresh clothes and a shower, but a bath? That is too much trouble."

Spencer wrapped his arms around her and hugged her from behind, watching the image of their embrace in the mirror, "It's just enough. Rhea will be back soon. Let's wash up a little, have our tea, eat something delicious, and then have a soak. Together."

Trina's gaze met Spencer's in the mirror, "Together?"

His eyes darkened with sensual promise, "Mmhmm. I also need a bath." He shifted to press his hips up against her backside. His voice held a teasing note, "I'll scrub your back if you scrub mine."

Trina shivered, blushing, and responded softly, "Deal." Her eyes met his with an answering gleam in her dark eyes.


Rhea arrived in twenty minutes, as promised. She brought a small cart laden with food, drink, clothing, and a small tub of ice, just in case. Spencer was whole-heartedly thankful, and Trina was just as grateful for the older lady's thoughtfulness. They sipped at their tea as Rhea set the food on the dining table in Spencer's suite for the two of them. Trina was now a regular dinner companion for the young Cassadine prince. Two place settings were always ready for her arrival.

Trina was still slightly uncomfortable with these small demonstrations of affluence and privilege. She was helped by watching Spencer interact genuinely and politely with the people who kept the house in order. Some staff proudly shared that they could cite generations of service amongst themselves. It was a very foreign way of life, and Trina wasn't sure what she thought of it.

The other matter she couldn't make heads or tails of was Spencer's continuing estrangement from his father. Trina occasionally saw Nikolas when she was coming or leaving the house. Spencer was determined to keep her away from his father. He felt like Nikolas even seeing her was too much to share. The most Nikolas would get from Spencer now was a stilted formality.

Dinner was a savory and relaxed affair. The food was delicious and warm. The tea chosen for Trina was sweet and citrusy with an herbaceous undertone. The conversation was light-hearted and fell into their familiar rhythm—fun, insightful, and expansive. Yet, simmering beneath the near domesticity of the meal was an undercurrent of anticipation.

During the meal, Trina looked up to see Spencer's dark eyes watching her, causing her to blush. Not one to be a shrinking violet, Trina asked with mock innocence, "Something on your mind, Spencer?"

Spencer studied the mischievous gleam in her eyes and played oblivious, "Not really. Just looking forward to dessert. You?"

"How can one think of having dessert when dinner is so appetizing?" Trina lifted her spoon to her lips, slowly savoring a sip of soup. She licked her lips and then licked the spoon's bowl with her tongue with apparent deliberation. She could feel the temperature of the room rise as Spencer's spoon lowered, nearly forgotten in his hand, as the weight of his entire focus was on her. To see him blush and carefully set his spoon aside before he dropped it into his bowl felt like a small victory.

Spencer smiled, watching her, loving her, enjoying her sexy playfulness. The only thing that kept him from standing, and crossing to her side to kiss her until they were both breathless, was his ever-present concern for her well-being. His need to take care of and protect her was paramount. She insisted she was okay, but he would only be able to relax his vigil once he could see her full, relaxed, bathed, and pampered.

Trina noted a different expression on Spencer's face. It was loving and intense. She wasn't sure she wanted to delve too much into whatever was going on in his mind at the moment. It made the butterflies in her tummy flitter a bit. Sometimes, Spencer seemed to exist with a depth of feeling that seemed frightening to observe from the outside. People may see him as simply an arrogant, spoiled brat with way more money than sense, but Trina now knew that the arrogance, money, and selfishness were fronts. They were shields that kept him safe and kept the world at bay.

It made her heart ache for him.

After dinner, Spencer stood, took Trina's hand, and led her back to the sofa. There, he sat her down and fussed with the pillows until he was satisfied that her back was well supported and that she was propped up comfortably. He settled onto the sofa beside her.

"I thought we were going to have a bath." Trina winced as Spencer carefully set her ankles on his lap and covered the sore one with an ice pack.

"We will. I want to reduce more of the swelling first."

She sighed, both in impatience and not a little sexual frustration. Agitated, she reached for her messy hair and slipped the scrunchie off. She pulled her long, thick black hair over her shoulder, running her fingers gently through it before she began to braid it, twist it into a bun and secure it with the scrunchie.

Spencer watched her with a soft smile on his face, happy that she didn't argue with him taking care of her. He looked down at her toenails; they were bright fluorescent pink. The sight of them made him feel so oddly peaceful. He would never have imagined having Trina sitting with him on a sofa, relaxing with her feet in his lap while they just enjoyed each other. He loved her dearly, and though he tried not to say it aloud, he owed her so much.

He looked over at Trina, "So, I promised you I would tell you more about the trigger stuff I've been working on with Kevin."

That got Trina's attention. Her hands were folded on her lap. Her dark eyes studied his expression as he began to explain.

He looked down to gather his thoughts and then back at Trina as he spoke quietly, "It is hard for me to feel helpless. It is hard for me to see someone I care about in trouble. The idea of physical harm coming to you, even if it's as innocuous as a sprained ankle-" He swallowed hard and took a steadying breath, "It triggers something.." He lifted his right hand and gestured to his heart, "here. It's almost like a panic attack, but I don't hyperventilate or pass out. Instead, I get this sort of… tunnel vision. And I have to fix it because if I don't- if I lose anyone else..?" He shook his head and looked up at the ceiling, taking another deep breath. "I don't know if I can survive it."

He shook his head again and looked back at Trina. His eyes were dark and haunted, "Despite knowing logically that tragedies happen and that they're no one's fault. Sometimes, I irrationally feel like..." He swallowed hard and then continued, "I feel like people would rather die, choose death, than be with me." It was a source of deep shame and bitterness to him.

Trina shook her head in silent denial of his self-recrimination, "This is one of the most rational motivations I've ever heard of, Spencer! Yes, your mother died at birth and left you with that void; but Spencer, your father, has pretended to be dead for years. He did that, and that was abusive. It was life-altering. Feeling the way you feel is completely natural and understandable. It didn't help when you came back, and you wanted him to leave Ava so it could just be the two of you."

Her voice was soft as she continued, "I know you hate Ava, but I think it's easier for you to hate her than your father."

"I do hate my father."

"You're angry, yes. Maybe you do hate him a little, but you also love him more than anyone. That's why you keep pushing him away, right?"

Spencer shook his head weakly, his voice a rough whisper, "It's like a thousand papercuts, Trina. Every time I see him, I think of how he left me for years. Then I think of how he suspected me of stalking Ava and pretended to attack me. How my father kept her by his side after all the times I pleaded with him. I want to be the most important person in his life." He sniffed and corrected himself, "I wanted that. Not anymore."

Trina watched him, her expression sad, "Spencer, from one person whose father pretended to be dead to another, you have to think about how horrible, and gray the world was without him. Can you remember the joy you felt when you learned he was alive? I know you felt it, at least for a minute."

Spencer closed his eyes and nodded, his jaw working.

"As long as he's alive, you can throw everything you want at him- anger, harsh words, crazy schemes... And he'd probably take it. But if he really did die tomorrow? I think you would regret not mending things with him."

He wanted to deny her words, but he couldn't. So he said nothing at all.

Trina continued, "So, I guess you should decide if you want to be right or if you want to have your father back. And I don't mean completely forgiving and forgetting with no questions asked. I mean- take him to therapy with you. He seems to have issues to work out, and maybe Kevin can help the two of you come to some sort of understanding."

Spencer finally opened his eyes and looked at Trina incredulously, but he could see she was serious. Instead of immediately shutting down the suggestion, he shook his head and looked down at her dainty feet.

"Just think about it, Spencer."

Spencer nodded, "I'll think about it, but not now. Right now, I want to be with you and take care of you, if that's alright?" He was in desperate need of lightening the mood.

Trina nodded and reminded him, "I believe you promised me a hot bath."

Spencer smiled, "And a hot bath, you shall have! Stay here and relax while I get everything prepared."

Trina was about to ask what exactly 'everything' entailed, then decided not to. Spencer was suddenly animated and excited as he gently set her feet aside, replacing the ice pack, and took long strides to the bathroom.

He was gone for nearly ten minutes.

Just as Trina was about to call out and ask Spencer what he's been doing, he returned. He came to the sofa, slipped his arms beneath her knees and around her back, and lifted her, taking her to the gorgeously appointed bathroom of his suite. The bathroom was a decadent affair of lush emerald greens on the walls, rich dark wooden cabinets polished to a shine, and lightly veined stone countertops with golden bits of mica glimmering. The double sink was spacious and pristine; Trina knew Spencer kept his things in the multiple drawers below.

He took her into the bathing room, where a large sunken tub waited. The water was gently steaming, and a layer of thick, fluffy bubbles was on top. It made her smile as she inhaled the soft, vanilla-scented air. She hugged Spencer and took it all in, "This looks nice." She sighed softly, smiling as his lips brushed the crown of her head.

He gently set her down on her feet and knelt before her, reaching for her foot to remove her socks, "My lady, if I may?"

Curious, she nodded, and to her surprise, he went about the task of efficiently disrobing her from toe to head while taking no liberties along the way. She understood that he wanted to take care of her, which was sweet. And in no way sexually frustrating. Nope. Not at all. Mmhmm...

Once she was undressed, Trina took his face gently in her hands and kissed him softly once, twice, and then with a thorough but slow passion that left them both breathless and yearning. "Thank you for taking care of me."

His face flushed with passion. His eyes were a melty, chocolatey brown of emotional affection and desire, "Always."

Trina's heart flipped over, taking in the incredible moment. Here she was, naked before the fantastic man she loved, and instead of feeling self-conscious or awkward, she felt simply beautiful and loved. In Spencer's eyes, she not only saw herself reflected but felt how the mantle of his love enfolded her and grounded her. She felt seen.

The emotion that came over her was staggering. Her dark eyes filled with tears and her breath grew unsteady.

Spencer, attuned to every nuance of Trina's expression and mood, was sincere in his dedication and adoration of her. It was rewarding to see that she recognized his feelings, acknowledged them, and felt as profoundly impacted as he.

He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, dear to his heart, while she took the time to compose herself. Her arms wrapped around him, and to his surprise, he felt her slight frame begin to tremble. He squeezed her even more and began to rock with her gently, rubbing her back. He didn't want to quell or silence her; he wanted her to be honest and emotional with him. He wanted to prove to her that he could be relied on and trusted; and that he could be a safe place for her. It was such an honor to have her here with him.

He reluctantly loosened his hold when she shivered slightly from the cool air, "Here, let's get you in the bathtub." He pulled back enough to see her tear-streaked face and brushed the rest of the tears away with the pad of his fingers. He gently teased, "At least most of the makeup is gone now."

He smiled and steered her to the tub, "Oh, this is for you- because I do my research." He said with false modesty as he reached for a small shopping bag she had missed earlier and pulled out a decorative shower cap to cover her hair while in the bath.

"You researched this?" She was thrilled as she took in the monarch butterfly pattern before slipping the protective covering over her hair, securing her thick braided bun beneath.

"Of course I did. I want you to feel comfortable with me." His expression was proud to see Trina so delighted by his thoughtfulness. He did a spot check and confirmed that all of her lovely hairs were tucked away and protected from the ravages of soapy bath water. He assisted her into the sunken tub.

Trina was so happy. There were so many small complexities to being an interracial couple that she never considered. The idea of Spencer researching Black hair was surprising to her. Though, in retrospect, maybe not too surprising. Spencer was an intense guy who loved nothing more than to impress. She certainly was that. She watched him, her adoration for him written across her face.

Once Spencer was satisfied with Trina's comfort within the steaming suds, he began to remove his clothing. At the shift in Trina's gaze to something more heated, he decided to give her a bit of a show. He slowly pulled his shirt over his head, making what could have been sexy look comically awkward. Trina tried to hide her smile, but he continued by undoing his jeans and pushing them down his legs to remove them. Or rather, to bounce unsteadily from one foot to the other as he rested the denim free. By this time, Trina's giggle was audible.

Finally, Spencer got to the good part. He slipped his thumbs beneath the band of his boxers and turned, facing away so all Trina could see his derriere. He kicked his underwear up and off his foot. It went flying and landed on top of his head. From there, Spencer began to wiggle his behind, and Trina's open laughter and applause were the reward for his silliness.

Mission accomplished, Spencer turned to face Trina. He tilted his head to let gravity free him from his boxer hat and stood naked for her admiring gaze. Of course, his penis was erect. He was around Trina, and he always wanted her. He wasn't ashamed of it. It was like breathing, a baseline of his existence. It just.. was. Spencer stepped into the tub and happily sighed as he sank into the hot water.

Trina immediately drifted over to him. She straddled his thighs, sat back, and allowed her hands to roam over his chest and shoulders as she smiled, "That was pretty impressive, Spencer."

Spencer laughed softly as his hands gently gripped her hips, "Hollywood is missing out on such a talent."

She grinned, "Indeed! It's a shame that you only have an audience of one."

His voice deepened, and he murmured, distracted by her lips, "One is all I need." His gaze flickered up to meet hers.

Trina melted into him, her hands dripping as she took his face and kissed him passionately, wrapping her arms around his neck as her kiss grew as if to devour him. She pressed her body close, her hips moving urgently against him. His fingers clapped hard on her hips. He directed her in a rhythm that allowed the friction of their bodies to build a fire between them.

There were no words now between them. There was only a growing erotic heat that enflamed them, despite the water gently lapping around them, the bubbles delightfully swirling in their wake. Trina reached down and took a gentle hold of Spencer's member, causing him to give a throaty groan, his eyes molten as they dared Trina to go further.

Which she happily did.

She positioned him at her entrance and slowly, deliciously sank onto him, allowing him to stretch and fill her deeply. She moaned his name at the feeling of completion, staring into his eyes.

She felt incredible. Her body welcomed and embraced him so tightly, and it was rapturous. With her dark, sable eyes locked onto his, entranced by her. She was beautiful, sexy, kind, generous, funny, intelligent, and most importantly- his. He wanted every act of intimacy between them to convey his love and towering respect for her.

He shifted the angle of his hips to deepen their connection and began to direct her hips again in a slow, deliberate rhythm to pleasure her. Watching her eyes close, those unique portals of her soul hidden by the thick fringe of lashes, a wanton expression on her face as she gasped and moaned with each long, deep stroke.

The water helped him move smoothly and created an enticing view- Trina's dark mahogany skin wet and glistening, her pert breasts with dark, erect nipples rising and falling before him. It was one of the most erotic sights he'd ever seen, and it quickened him, brought him closer to the edge. He had to be sure she was there with him.

Trina gasped as the steady rhythm of their coupling increased. Spencer began to drive into her relentlessly. She was breathless, and her nails dug into his shoulders as she rode him, the pinnacle to climax suddenly within reach.

Spencer could feel the change in her, hear her whimper of desperation as she was close, oh so close, to the edge. He wouldn't let up, and it became his single-minded purpose of existence to make Trina come.

She came with shattering intensity, sobbing, engulfed in the power of her orgasm. Spencer was there with her a moment later, gripping her hips and holding her fast as his member pulsed within her, his harsh cry of joy loud in her ear.

Slowly, they caught their breath and faced each other in the water, still joined. Spencer's eyes were full of love and wonder, "I love you."

Trina leaned in and gave him a tender kiss, "I love you, too."


Spencer was wearing a white robe with the Cassadine family crest embroidered on its lapel as he gently wrapped Trina in her matching robe. Spencer gathered her clothing and placed it in a basket, taking it out into the hallway for cleaning.

Trina made her way over to the sofa and poured herself another cup of tea from the self-warming carafe. She tucked her legs under her, glad her ankle barely registered any discomfort.

She checked her phone for the time. Curfew was now at 10 PM, and there were only a few weeks left of Spencer's sentence. She was looking forward to spending the entire night with Spencer. She wondered if he would snore or steal all of the covers...

"And what are you smiling about, Miss Robinson?"

Spencer poured himself a cup of tea and joined her on the sofa, laying a hand gently on her exposed knee, unable to keep from touching her as he took a sip with his other hand.

"Do you snore?"

Spencer blinked and nearly spilled the tea in his cup, caught off-guard by the question. He laughed, "Um, What?"

Trina laughed, delighted to have the mighty Prince Cassadine off-balance, "Do you snore? At night? When you sleep?"

Spencer was still confused but game, "I'm sure I do a little. Where is this coming from?"

Trina sipped at her cup and said gently, "I was thinking about when I could finally spend the whole night with you."

Spencer's expression softened, "Ah. I have been dreaming of that myself. The idea of just laying with you all night in my bed has been a constant fantasy of mine."

At Trina's lifted brows, he laughed, "It's true! I'm not going to lie and say that some of those dreams aren't sexy.." He waggled his brows, "But I will say that the idea of us being in bed at midnight while you read a book for school and I work on Sudoku or something like that- it's a literal dream I have about you sometimes."

Trina smiled, pleased, "That's nice. I look forward to making your dreams come true."

Spencer smiled and gently moved his teacup to tap against hers in a toast. His eyes lit from within with joy and promise, "To dreams coming true."

Trina smiled, "To dreams."