A/N2: The flower I have chosen here is deliberate. White roses stand for a few things - most notably "I Am Worthy of You." A single rose in full bloom stands for "I Love You, I Still Love You." And a thorn-less (dethorned!) rose stands for "Love at First Sight."
A/N3: For you youngsters and non-NYers, 976 numbers were bill-by-the-minute naughty telephone numbers on the New York Telephone system. They were big in the 1980's. It's 0898 in the UK (I write because I'm an anglophile and that factoid being apropos of nothing).
>>>>>>>>
Meddling – Robin 12
>>>>>>>>
As I walk back to my office after my lunch I decide that this is rapidly turning out to be one of those days I should have, right from the getgo, locked myself in the lab and buried my head in all those thick, dense textbooks Patrick teases me about. Lunch was a disaster, the perfect follow up to the sad and awkward scene with Jason right before it. I blow out a breath and wait for the elevator to get to the labs basement.
At the time it seemed like a great idea for Liz and me to enjoy the fresh spring air and head to Kelly's to meet up with Lucky. I always enjoy going there because no matter the time of day there's someone there that I don't get to see often enough. Today, Nikolas came along with his brother and Mike was working. I was thrilled to see them both at first, but midway through the meal an argument broke out about Baby John and Lucky had to physically remove his brother from the diner. It was just grief talking because at the heart both men are simply broken up about Courtney's death. I don't even think they actually dislike each other or even disagree; they're just venting the best way they can find right now. I tried to console Mike after Nikolas left, but he soon disappeared himself. I'm afraid that he's hiding himself in a bottle. I tried to call Sonny, but all I got was his voice mail.
This is odd, I note as I turn on the light and walk into my office. Sitting at the edge of my desk is my Yale coffee mug and it's half full of cold coffee. I look over and see that the coffee pot is half full too. I could swear I cleaned them both out last night. It's pretty much a habit. Maybe I was in such a rush to meet Patrick that I forgot? Or maybe someone in the lab did it this morning, someone who wears, what is that? Barbie pink lipstick, I note as I hold the mug up to the light. My team is usually good about cleaning up after themselves, though. Well, the computer is password protected and the paper files are locked so I'm not too concerned. It's annoying, but not alarming.
I take the coffee pot and mug into the small kitchen we're lucky enough to have in the labs basement in order to clean them out. As I rinse the pot under the hot water my earlier exchange with Jason suddenly starts playing through my mind. It comes at me so vividly that my hands start to shake and I need to put the pot down so I don't break the glass. I brace my hands on the edge of the sink and close my eyes.
Back when it was happening, when Jason and I were facing each other in that hall, I felt so clinical, so detached, like I was watching it all through a microscope. As it's playing through my mind right now I feel the emotion that was missing before. It's like I'm dropping down from the top of a roller coaster. I feel like I've done something irrevocable, something I desperately want to take back. Sheer panic is overloading my senses and I sink down onto the floor and rest my head on my bent knees.
I've finally let go of Jason Morgan and the girl who loved him.
I rock forward and back again, trying to catch my breath. It feels like something essential to my identity has been wrenched from me. This is what it felt like when I realized that the daddy who loved his little girl first and best was a fairytale. I feel a punch of grief as I say goodbye to the boy with no past and the girl with no future. Tears are running down my cheeks, soaking into the cotton of my pants.
All of a sudden I hear a crashing noise from a nearby lab and I'm jerked back into awareness of where I am. I wipe my cheeks with the sleeve of my black jacket and stand up and finish washing the pot and getting fresh water for a new pot of coffee to get me through the rest of the day.
Work is the best thing to lose myself in right now, it always has been. It's not a hardship today because I'm excited to be working on the protocols for a new round of trials I'm starting in cooperation with a clinic in Geneva for the drugs I used on Jason. I'm certain that the tweaks I've made in the last few months will improve its efficacy dramatically. If this works we can start applying for government approvals for other doctors to begin using this combination.
I walk behind my desk to turn on my computer. As I go to sit down I see something that brings a smile to my face and the queasy feeling in my stomach turns to excited butterflies.
I reach down and lift up a single white rose in full bloom that has been very thoughtfully stripped of its thorns.
Patrick.
I close my eyes and breathe in the lovely scent and think of him and realize that I'm wrong. The best thing to take my mind off my past is my present. I sit down and pick up my desk phone and dial.
"Hello, Dr. Scorpio. How come you're not calling me from your cell phone?" Patrick's husky, humor-filled voice lifts my mood another notch.
"Damn, I thought I was calling a 976 number?"
"Calling me to talk about telesleaze, Robin? Have I completely corrupted you already?"
"It was the cellular porn that pushed me over the edge. I'm going to be wearing my leathers to work from now on. Bye bye good girl Robin." I grin and sniff my flower.
"I don't know whether to be happy about that or worried." He actually sounds seriously uncertain about the conundrum. I always knew that he liked to get a rise out of the good girl. Or got a rise from her. Okay, he iis/i seriously corrupting me.
"Thank you for the flower, Patrick. I really needed it today." My words are more wistful than I had intended and Patrick picks right up on it.
"Rough day?" His low, husky tone sends shivers down my spine. This guy is seriously sexy. I sigh and lean back and consider the question. "It's had its moments, but it's looking up." I twirl the flower by its stem, breathing in the scent the movement releases. "Liz thinks I'm a lucky woman, by the way. She was with my when I got your probably illegal messages."
"You're just short, not actually a child so I think your Uncle Mac won't have to arrest me. She's right you know," he says, not one iota abashed.
"You have no shame."
"Pointless really when you're as blessed as I am with good looks and a big…"
"You're unbelievable!" I interrupt with a bark of laughter.
"I was going to say heart, Robin. Really, dirty mind you have."
"I bet you were and if I have one it's your fault." I am feeling a thousand times better than just five minutes ago.
"Would you like another present now?"
"Is this more the flower kind or more the pornographic kind? Don't tell me, a life size naked poster for my office door?"
"Close!"
"Now, I don't know whether to be happy or worried." Suddenly there's a knock on the door to the hallway that I hear in stereo. I hang up the phone and go open the door.
Standing there with his phone still at his ear is the very sexy Dr. Patrick Drake. His brown eyes are glowing and his overly gelled hair is pointing out every which way.
"You're wearing clothes," I say with pretend disappointment. Mostly pretend.
With a growl he pushes me into the office and closes the door. He crosses his arms and looks down at me sternly. "Is that the thanks I get? Excellence is supposed to be rewarded you know. That flower was a very excellent boyfriend present."
"And the photos? Is that more like pimp excellence?" I roll my eyes and walk back over to my desk. I sit down on the corner of my desk and anticipate his witty rejoinder.
"Does that mean you're taking cash now, Dr. Scorpio?" Laughing, he sits down in the chair in front of me and puts his hands on the arm rests and looks expectantly at me.
"What?" I spread my hands out palms up. "What are you looking at?"
"Why the rough day? Come here." He holds out his arms.
With a quick look to see if anyone in the lab can see us I settle myself into his lap and loop my arms loosely around his neck. "A run in with Jason. Nikolas and Mike had a fight about Baby John while we were at lunch. They're both so sad about Courtney." I stroke a hand down his face, reveling in the feel of him very much alive.
"What happened with Jason?" I didn't particularly want to tell him about it, but I was trying to be better about communicating what was going on with me. I'd hoped he'd let me brush over it, but it was a faint hope. I bite my lip and think for a minute. I want to choose my words carefully.
"Jason and I broke up a long time ago. I'm not in love with him anymore."
"I know, you said it under oath. I knew you wouldn't lie under oath, not even to save face." Patrick smirks as he says it.
The man knows me well. Knew me so well, even back then. "Even so, I've always felt there was some kind of connection between us because of the history we shared."
"You came back to save his life because of it." Patrick toys with my hair, his brown eyes still looking unconcerned.
"No, that's not it. Everyone thinks that, but I would have done the same for anyone. It just so happened that the person who needed what I could do, or thought I could, was Jason. And so you know I didn't move back here for him either."
"No, that was for me." He bites his lip and winks. I roll my eyes and move on.
"I thought that we'd always have a soft spot for each other based on what we once shared, looking at him today I just realized it wasn't true."
"What changed? What happened?" he asks softly.
"He came up to me demanding I help him get Carly released and I realized that I don't really register with him and that I didn't owe him anything anymore. Neither of us are who we once were. Those people are gone, that tie is over." I sigh and toy with the top button on Patrick's shirt.
"Robin, he suffered a hypo-perfused frontal cortex and he's suffered more damage since. You've treated it, I've operated on it. It's no reflection on you." I heard the unspoken "jerk" in his voice and it made me smile a little bit.
"I know his ability to connect is limited. Maybe he doesn't have room for more than a few people at a time and I'm no longer one. It's not an ego thing." I study Patrick's face, looking for any sign that he is bothered by how I'm feeling. I don't see anything in his eyes but understanding.
"If you need to be sad about it, that's okay." There he goes again, shocking the hell out of me. I remember when I thought he was a shallow jerk and every once in a while he'd say something so insightful or empathetic and I'd be so surprised. It's part of why I started falling for him right from the start.
"After that hellish lunch I came in here and saw your flower." I stop and press my forehead against his. "I'm still a little sad about the past ending, but really happy about the present." I stroked his face. "You're my present."
"Better than flowers and porno?" He licks his lips and gives me sultry eyes.
"Hey, I want a package deal. Flowers. Patrick Porn. And you. Your heart." I lean in and sink myself into a long, tender kiss.