Just a touch of naughty in this one. Use discretion; and if you're too young to do that, don't read past the first part.
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Meddling – Robin 10
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"Where's your latest victim? Patrick get tired of you already?" Carly Corinthos, as she was calling herself again these days, says as she props her head on her hand and leans into my space, setting my nerves on edge.
I count to ten inside my head and try to ignore her usual intimidation tactics and go about finishing the notes I am writing in a patient chart as I stand at the nurse's desk. After a minute, I look back up at her still there and smiling in that infuriating way she has with the taunt shooting out of her hateful eyes.
"Did you get bored with the newest kid in your collection so soon, Carly?" Clearly, she just wasn't going to go away until she got some kind of satisfaction and against my better judgment I am unable to ignore her and my pride bristles at the idea of walking away. iI/i work here, not her.
"At least I can have children." She shrugs and smiles malisciously at me.
"Being a slut isn't exactly something to be proud of, Carly. Why don't you go bother someone else?"
"Being called a slut by the sexually repressed and physically incapable doesn't exactly hurt you know." She cackles. There was really no other name for the sound that emanates from her. "Patrick is probably already bored with the challenge and finding someone who can satisfy him in ways you never will. Just like Jason did." Her voice rises up in glee at that last, tired, boast; tired, but still effective.
"You know Carly, bragging about taking advantage of Jason really doesn't do you any favors. It's right up there with bragging about the fact that he hasn't wanted you since." My blood is boiling now, but not so much that I don't know exactly what I'm saying and the effect it will have, which is why I take a precautionary step back before I finish speaking.
In true Carly-trash fashion she snarls at me and tries to physically grab at me over the counter. "You bitch! You start something you want me to finish!" She screeches nonsensically, her face blood red and her over-processed hair flying as she vibrates with rage.
"I'd check that kind of behavior around here." I nimbly step back again and smirk at her. I'm feeling particularly vicious and victorious in this moment and the words are just rolling off my tongue. "How many times have you been committed now? Is third time going to be the charm and we'll be rid of you for good?"
The moment the words slip out of my mouth I feel badly. It's small of me to make fun of her mental health, anyone's mental health. As someone with HIV I understand how devastating the ignorant stigma around mental illness is, but I'm so sick of this witch parading around town like the sun shines out of her ass while she leaves victims strewn in her wake. At this moment I am more tired of that than I am of feeling degraded by the way she always manages to make me lose my composure. Besides, the bitch started it.
"You sanctimonious bitch hiding behind your little counter!" She screeches again and starts to climb up and over the counter.
My eyes widen and I wonder if maybe my comment about another commitment isn't too far off the mark. I can't even understand what she is screaming when she is restrained from behind. I blow out a relieved breath and see that Alan Quatermaine, the Chief of Staff himself is the one who has grabbed her.
It's another minute, and a couple of other male doctors helping Alan, before security shows up and take the still struggling older woman to the psych unit at Alan's direction.
"Call Sonny," Alan tells a nurse before turning to me. "Dr. Scorpio, are you all right?"
"I'm sorry, Dr. Quatermaine." It's suddenly occurring to me that I have behaved very unprofessionally. I rub my sweaty palms on my lab coat and look around to see that I've managed to draw quite a crowd. I start to feel queasy.
"You need to sit down." Alan puts a hand on my arm and walks me away from the center of the crowd and into a nearby exam room where he makes me sit down.
"I'm sure she started it, Robin, but I need to know from you what happened."
I tell him honestly and succinctly, not even bothering to hide my own fault.
"I would never say what that…woman said or did was right or that she didn't provoke you. God knows if it were up to me she'd be in prison for what she did to my son, both of my sons, but you're a doctor Robin. Not to mention a sane, classy young woman. You shouldn't let her bait you."
"She pushes every button I have and I lose my temper." It's not without shame that I make this admission.
"She can only get to you if you don't have clear-cut boundaries."
I know, of course, that what he says is true. My insecurities, my hurt, are mine not hers and if I plan to stay in Port Charles, which I most definitely do, I need to deal with myself. What she says about me shouldn't matter, shouldn't have an ounce of perceived truth that can shred at me.
"If you want to talk to someone about this, work through it, I could make a recommendation…"
"You think I need to see someone?" I bury my face in my hands for a moment. Despite my sense of personal responsibility, I can't help really hating that witch right now. "Is that an order?" I ask plaintively.
"It's not an order, but it will be if this happens again. I don't want anymore scenes in my hospital." He puts his hand on my head. "And I don't want her to be able to hurt you anymore."
"Thanks, Alan." I smile up at him weakly.
After Alan leaves I sit feeling the full force of the embarrassment I inevitably cause myself in my interactions with that woman. It's stunning to me that in everything else in life I think through every possible consequence before acting, but with her, even knowing I'm going to end up here with a sour taste in my mouth, I keep exhibiting the same degrading behavior. I believe that's the perfect illustration of the definition of insanity. Talk about glass houses.
I will do just as Alan advised and conquer these insecurities, get my boundaries in order. Never again, I vow as I stand up to march out there and get back to work, will this woman get to me.
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"Hey, slugger."
I looked up from my computer to see Patrick standing in the doorway of my lab office with an amused grin on his face.
"I didn't hit her." Despite the topic of conversation, I can't help but smile at the sight of him. Since the very first moment we met I've been able to sense a change in the very air when he's present. And damned but if he isn't gorgeous.
"That's not how I heard it." Patrick chuckles as he saunters his way to my desk where he sits himself down right in my space. I breathe in his scent and flash back to the past few nights I've spent in his bed.
We haven't made love yet, but our foreplay, both in and out of bed, has been amazing and I am constantly aching for him. I can see the same in his eyes, along with the self-satisfied knowledge of how much I want him. It's far too late for me to worry about pride so I wait for his next move. It occurs to me for just a moment that Carly really has no idea what she's talking about, but before I can give the thought more attention Patrick licks his lips, a movement that always distracts me, and sticks his hand into the pocket of his lab coat.
"Have I ever told you how sexy you look in that coat?" I asked, leaning back in my chair and crossing my legs, deliberately letting my skirt ride up my thighs. Two can happily play this game.
"I don't believe you have. Just for that, a reward." Out of his pocket he pulls out a small paper bag and holds it out to me. I flash him a gleeful smile and grab it.
"Training me like Pavlov's dog to feed your ego?" I ask as I greedily pull out what I knew would be my favorite chocolate fudge ice cream bar. I make sure to let out a squeal of delight as I know the sound makes Patrick hot.
"My boyfriend is sexy and thoughtful, how'd I get so lucky?" I ask as I open the ice cream and take my first rapturous taste.
"You're killing me, Scorpio."
Surprised by the ragged huskiness of his voice I look up from my ice cream to see Patrick adjusting his pants over what I know to be a pretty impressive erection and fixing me with his dark, heated eyes.
"Oh, Patrick." I lick my lips and smile at his discomfort. "Just four more days."
"Three. Three more days." He grabs the arm rest of my chair and pulls me towards him and buries his fingers in my hair and tilts my head back before crushing his lips onto mine and kissing me senseless. Our tongues taste and duel right up until I feel the ice cream dripping over my hand.
I pull back with a gasp and begin to lick the dripping sweet cream off my hand, eliciting another frustrated moan from my soon-to-be-lover.
"I can't wait, Robin. Please don't make me wait."
As much as I really, really don't want to wait, I really do. In three days Noah will either be cleared to stay on his own or will go stay with Bobbie, and we're off to stay for a week at the Drake family beach house in Cape Cod. Patrick says it's fairly isolated, which is good because I'm pretty sure that once we start we're not going to be able to stop and I know we'll be fairly loud. Keeping quiet with Noah in the next room has proven to be quite a challenge.
"You can handle it big boy."
He mutters something unpleasant under his breath before flashing me an evil grin. "I have plans for you, Scorpio. Payback's a bitch." He points his finger at me threateningly.
"I can't wait." I slowly slide my tongue around my ice cream bar.