Made With Love

A GH Fanfic

Part 2

(by Janeka R.)

Trina was dressed and standing in the hallway, preparing to leave the hotel suite, toying with the strap of her purse. It was well past two in the morning and she knew she would worry her folks if she wasn't there when they got home. Spencer stood at the opened door, leaning against the doorframe, looking down at the petite but sturdy frame of the curvy woman before him.

Neither spoke. So much had been said tonight and so much remained unspoken.

The hallway was quiet in the dead of night. Only the distant ping of the elevator interrupted the silence.

Trina took that as her cue and took a step back from the door, away from the tempting sight of the bed-rumpled, exhausted man who obviously would love nothing more than to whisk her back into the room and have his way with her again.

He must have been on the wave-length because his gaze deepened following her thoughts which were very well aligned with his. "Trina.." He cajoled in his low voice.

Trina took another step back, this time despite her will, laughing at their shared lustful thoughts, "I have to go… it's late. And you really need to rest."

"What I really need is-"

"Goodnight, Spencer!" She giggled she took another step backward, still facing him, loving the tortured expression on his face. They both knew he was bone-tired.

But if the flesh is willing. Spencer opened the door a bit wider, "Are you sure?" He loved teasing her.

Someone had to be the voice of reason here, right?

"No." She laughed softly, "But, I'm leaving anyway. Go get some SLEEP." She quietly commanded and then added, "Call me when you wake up, okay? We'll figure out how to deal with everything else."

Spencer smiled warmly. We. He liked the sound of that. He signed in mock resignation, "Well, if you insist. Then fine." He pouted playfully. "I'll go to sleep. Alone." He couldn't resist adding with a seductive tone, "In my big King-sized bed that smells like you."

She blushed, looking around to make sure no one else was overhearing him, "Spencer!" She was scandalized.

"Goodnight, Trina." His voice was deep with longing and finality.

"Goodnight." Her words were soft with yearning.

As she finally turned to walk away, she heard him murmur, "Sleep well."

Trina walked on unsteady legs to the elevator, not looking back, knowing he was still watching her. When the doors opened and she stepped inside, she glanced back to see him still at the end of the hallway.

When the elevator doors closed and took Trina away from him, he finally closed his door slowly and leaned his forehead against the solid wood. He took a deep, steadying breath and was delighted to find that he really could still smell the sweet, warm scent of her in the air. He turned off the lights, went back to the bedroom, and slid beneath the covers fully dressed. He inhaled and indeed, smelled her even more strongly there.

It was the last thought he had before slipping into a deep and surprisingly restful sleep.


Part 2

Trina couldn't sleep.

Her drive home required every bit of effort she could muster to stay fixed on the present and not let her mind drift back to the vivid memories of what just happened moments before. She forced herself to check and double-check mirrors and to be hyper-vigilant, even though the late hour meant that there was very little in the way of traffic.

She was relieved to see that no one else was home. The idea of facing her mother, Curtis, or even Marshall right now was a bit more than she was ready for. She couldn't imagine how she looked at the moment and couldn't even conceive of what she would say if she were confronted.

Not even she could believe it.

Spencer and I made love to one another, she paused and reframed the thought, made love withone another. She sank to the edge of her bed, her hand lifting to touch her love-swollen lips. They were sensitive to her touch. She licked her lips and tasted him, and maybe the faint flavor of cocoa.

She stood up, restless, and walked to the full-length mirror on the back of her closet door to look at herself. She felt different. She wondered if she looked different, too. She studied her petite frame and stepped closer to consider her features. Her lips were fuller from the pressure and rasp of his lips. Her cheeks were still flushed with color. Her big eyes had a new sort of glow to them. A knowing.

She now had a better understanding of her body. How it could move, shift, and accept another. How it felt to be touched, caressed, and stroked with the lightest pressure or with a near-painful grip. She knew better how to move her lips and tongue to return passion in equal measure. She now knew the timbre of voice that made her center melt and heard how her voice changed in the throws of pleasure. She learned how to cede control and give in to erotic bliss.

With Spencer.

She saw her gaze widen and soften as she thought of the other things she had learned tonight. She learned the landscape of his body. From the broad strength of his shoulders to the lean, muscled plane of his abdomen. The surprising softness of his lips to the textured strength of his tongue pressing against hers. His hands, she had to take a breath as she remembered how his lean, long-fingered grip felt gathering her close, laying around her neck as his deep voice…

Her heart was racing. She was stunned by the power of the memory, incredibly aroused by it. She saw herself in the mirror as she imagined Spencer must have seen her, her eyes dreamy, mouth open, and gasping for breath. Her nipples were rigid in excitement, disrupting the fall of her cotton t-shirt.

She should feel embarrassed or awkward at the thought that Spencer could visibly see how turned on and excited she was by him. Yet she wasn't. He was just as visibly taken with her. His dark eyes were lit with a fire that promised that her pleasure was paramount. His erection was visible against the denim of his jeans, she tried to act as if she hadn't noticed. She did.

It's past 3 A.M. I should go to bed now.

Trina didn't bother to switch back into her pajamas from earlier. Instead, she pushed off her jeans and crawled directly under the covers. She rested her cheek on her blue satin pillowcase, reached over to turn off her lamp, rolled over, and tried to go to sleep.

But she couldn't.

Her body still hummed, wanting him. She shifted and turned onto her other side, her gaze fixed on the window. She remembered how the evening began with Ava's call and a look out onto the lake to see the miserable figure sitting on the edge of the dock. Her heart hurt for him. To think that they went from 'Trina trying to help Spencer in a time of need' to declarations of love in only a few hours…

She closed her eyes and allowed herself to fully sink into the depths of recent memory. The stroke of his hand along the side of her face, down her neck, her clavicle, down the middle of her chest between her breasts, and further down….

Trina's hand traced the path, fingertips gliding lightly along her body, and further down, slipping under the soft fabric of her panties. Her fingertips trailed over the soft triangle of hair and parted her lips to lightly touch the rigid, throbbing flesh there. Her soft gasps were loud in her ears, accompanied by the pounding of her heartbeat as she hesitated for just a moment, before allowing herself to indulge in pleasuring herself. Her back arched and her hips began to move in a slow, winding rhythm as she remembered the feel of him, the scent of him, the weight of him on top of her—the deep, fullness of him as he pressed inside her to the hilt.

She moaned softly, the sound goading her to increase the speed of her hand and the urgency of her hips. She remembered his voice in her ear, as she was closer and closer to the brink then, and now. Remembering the dark tone of his voice and the force of his will commanding her to come.

The orgasm was intense. Different than with Spencer, but still toe-curling. She couldn't tell how long her climax lasted, she was so fixed upon both the now-and-then of it all, it was indistinguishable in the moment.

As she panted for breath, feeling the rush of warmth between her legs, she could only think one thought, I love him so much. Slowly her limbs relaxed and a languid satisfaction came over her.

At still and at peace, Trina drifted off to sleep.


It took a few minutes after Trina woke up to come to the full realization that last night was not a dream and truly did happen. From comforting Spencer to masturbating in the aftermath of the evening. She waited to see if she would now, in the full light of day, feel awkward or off-kilter by everything that happened in the last twelve hours.

To her surprise, she felt…good. Better than good.

She was happy. She stared up at the ceiling, her hands toying with the ends of a braid as she enjoyed the moment's contentment. She felt calm, sexy, and centered.

Then she frowned, What if what happened last night only happened because of the alcohol and Spencer's vulnerability? Would he have ever confessed these feelings and everything else without liquid courage?

She didn't doubt for a minute his love and regard for her. That was real, as her feelings for him in return. She will need to speak with him about holding things back or hiding from her. She loved him, but she wouldn't allow him to gatekeep or control her. She understood him trying to protect her, but they have to be equal partners in this relationship. He has to offer help and she gets to decide if she accepts it or not.

Also, knowing Spencer, he may wake up in the morning believing that what happened tonight was too good to be true or better than what he deserved or whatever else weird broodiness will come over him. Self-inflicted wounds seemed to be a special ability within the House of Cassadine.

Trina frowned again thinking of her call with Ava. With Spencer sharing the news of his father's betrayal, Trina's understanding of why Ava's voice was so strained became clearer. Trina's hand lifted to her heart as she imagined the heartache her dear friend must have been going through. Ava was probably staying at the Metrocourt. Trina sat up, making her plan for the day: She would visit Ava and then Spencer.

She stood up and paused, the physical effects of last night giving vague aches that she didn't expect. She glanced at the clock, it was nearly 8:30 AM. She probably won't make it to the hotel until 10 since she had a few stops to make along the way. She grabbed her phone and sent a text to Ava, I will be at your room at the MC at 10. She thought about sending a text to Spencer as well but was worried she would wake him. He needed all the rest, in a comfortable bed, he was going to get.


Trina stepped into Kelly's and smiled when she caught sight of Cameron behind the counter in his apron, pouring coffee into a travel cup. She was dressed in a pretty blue sun dress tied into a bow at the back of her neck and exposing her back. The hem of the dress brushed at her knees and she wore a pair of white, sandals with wedge heels that gave her a good inch and a half of height. Her braids were woven into two large, chunky braids that fell over her shoulders, framing the delicate features of her face.

As Cameron placed the lid on top of a cup, his true blue eyes caught Trina's and smiled with genuine warmth. "Good morning, Trina. You're just in time! Your order is almost done." He grabbed another travel cup and began to fill it with coffee, "I would ask if you're going out on another date with Rory, but there are a lot of coffee cups here. Having breakfast with your folks?"

Trina began to speak and then stopped awkwardly, blushing, "Um, no. I have a few stops to make this morning. Rory, Ava, and… Spencer."

Cameron's head tilted as he added a lid to the cup. Hearing her hesitation, he glanced up fast enough to see a lot of emotions cross Trina's face. He put the pot down and leaned forward, a hand resting on the bar top, his concern obvious as he asked, quietly, "You're talking to Spencer now? What's going on?"

Trina shook her head, "No time to talk right now. Everything's… mostly okay?" The more she thought of it, the less she was sure of it herself. "Let's just say that some really interesting truths came to light last night at the Quartermaine picnic and the fallout is going to take some time to settle."

Cameron frowned, unable to put any pieces together but nodded, "Well, if you ever want to talk, you know where to find me." Cameron finished the last cup of coffee and slid the cardboard beverage tray, loaded with four coffee cups and a paper bag with Trina's name written on it, over to her.

Trina smiled in relief that she didn't have to try to explain the last 12 hours of her life, "Of course! And you will hear all about this once I get a handle on everything going on. Speaking of…" It took her a moment to wrestle handle the tray and bag of pastries, "Cam, would you mind?"

Cameron was already on his way around the counter to help Trina out of the door. Just as she crossed the threshold outside, Cam asked, "Will you tell Spencer hello for me?"

It wasn't a test, but the way Trina's cheeks reddened and she nodded, Cameron was able to put at least some pieces together. Interesting truths, indeed. He hoped this meant that Spencer finally confessed his feelings for Trina. She deserved the truth, for sure.

As he stepped back into the diner, he mused to himself, I wonder where this puts Rory.


Trina spotted Rory sitting on the park bench, people-watching. His smile was easy, with an open expression taking in the morning walkers in casual delight. Trina's pace slowed as she took the sight of him in. Rory was a very handsome man, dressed casually in a dark blue polo shirt and khaki pants, sterling white sneakers on his feet. When he saw Trina, he stood and smiled sweetly at her, stepping forward to help her with the coffee and bag.

"Morning Trina." He smiled, taking in the lovely sight of her. She was so small, but such a fierce woman. He was so pleased that she agreed to be 'official' after the debacle of her trial. He took in the number of coffees and his brows went up, "I got your text. I'm always happy to see you, though it looks like I'm the first stop of a tour or something. Is everything alright?"

He set the coffee down on the bench near the arm, sat, and gently guided Trina to his side. They instinctively turned toward each other though Trina's gaze was lowered and her hands gripped each other in obvious nervousness.

Rory's attention shifted to observing her body language. Something was upsetting her. He was earnest as he spoke gently, confidently, "I can see something's wrong, Trina. Why don't you tell me what's going on, and maybe I'll be able to help in some way?"

With that, he waited patiently, wanting Trina to speak in her own time.

Trina wasn't sure of what to say or where to start. On her way over, she'd rehearsed a few things but in the light of day, outside in the park, and in front of Rory, she began to feel guilty and uncertain. She was going to hurt him and there was nothing she could do about it. But, she had to be honest. If there's any lesson she or Spencer should learn from all of this is that being honest IS hard, but it's necessary.

Everyone deserves the truth.

Trina took a breath, looked up into Rory's eyes, and spoke softly, "I'm sorry. We have to break up."

Rory blinked, of all the things he thought she was going to say, that was the last thing on the list. He watched Trina carefully, there were a lot of conflicting expressions on her face. There was only one person who could stir Trina's emotions like this.

Cassadine, he thought. Aloud he simply said, "What happened?"

Trina looked Rory in the eyes and said, "I kissed Spencer last night."

Somehow this news wasn't surprising, though disappointing for sure. Rory wasn't sure of how he felt about it, but he could sense there was more to it. "Okay." He waited, knowing through his police training that silence can be both strategic to drawing out details of a confession; and also to allow the interviewer to stay level-headed to not make assumptions or jump to conclusions too quickly.

Trina squirmed a bit under the calm regard of Officer Cabrera. She could sense that he didn't like what she was saying, but she was also taken aback because she was expecting an explosion of anger or something. Rory was always compassionate and thoughtful. She sighed inwardly because these were the very same traits that made her care for him.

"Well," she began, "I got a call last night from Ava that Spencer was in a bad way and needed my help. I found him next to the lake, brought him home, and tried to give him water and hot cocoa because it was cold outside. We talked for a long time and he told me about some of the stuff he's been up to lately and why. Eventually, I took him to the Metrocourt because he couldn't go home and..well, that's where it happened."

Rory's hand lifted to the back of his neck to massage a little of the tension there as he began to connect some dots. Though he still needed further elaboration, "So, Spencer was drunk, you took him to the Metro Court, and he kissed you?" Did he take advantage of Trina? Rory was growing concerned by the silence at his question.

Trina slowly came to realize where he was going with this line of questioning and spoke quickly, "Yes and no. I mean, yes, he kissed me but I… wanted him to. And I…" she blushed, "...kissed him back."

"Oh. I see." Rory looked down at Trina's hands which were twisting with anxiety. Yes, he did indeed see. He knew Trina had feelings for Cassadine, though he thought they were in the past. He didn't want to judge her for it then because she was always honest, capable, and believed in the good in people. It's what made him care so much for her. He looked down at his own hands, unable to think of what to say next.

Her voice was soft, "I don't mean to hurt you, but I do need to be honest with you. You know my feelings for Spencer are complicated, and I thought I was over him but-"

"But you aren't." Rory looked back up and examined Trina's sad and guilty face as she nodded.

"I'm not." She affirmed, "And…" she swallowed hard and said clearly, "I love him."

Rory could see that no matter how sad or guilty Trina felt about it, there seemed to be a quiet joy for her at the revelation.

Rory nodded, still unable to find words. His emotions were mixed. He was hurt, disappointed, and a little angry. He was also happy for Trina. If she was happy, then that was a good thing. But with Cassadine? There was something sad about that. Rory knew that Spencer would hurt Trina again and that she'd have no defense against it.

Unless Spencer became a better man, Trina was going to suffer.

She chose him, regardless.

Rory took a breath and released it, "Well, I'm not sure of what to say. I don't like that less than a week after we decided to be boyfriend and girlfriend, you kissed another guy. But, I do appreciate your honesty about it and not…stringing me along. So, I guess that counts for something."

He reached over and laid his hand on her knotted fingers, "Look Trina, I like you. I think you're a wonderful woman and I'm lucky that you chose me, even if it was only for a few days. I don't like Cassadine but if he makes you happy? I'm not going to make you feel bad about it." He withdrew his hand and thought aloud, "I guess it's a good thing this happened before we got too far along, you know? Hopefully, we can still be friends?"

The knot inside Trina eased slightly and she smiled in relief, "Absolutely. You've been there for me in ways no one else has and I'm not going to forget that. I'm not going to forget those brownies either!" She smiled and was relieved to see him chuckle. "I didn't want to lose you, Rory, but I would have completely understood if you didn't want to be friends anymore."

Rory's gaze was thoughtful, "I don't own you, Trina, and I can't hold your feelings against you. Besides, maybe it's a matter of timing. Who knows what the future will bring?" He stood, "Anyway, I should get ready for work."

Trina also stood, reached for a coffee, and handed it to him, "Peace offering? It's from Kelly's."

Rory accepted the cup, "Sure. Thanks, Trina." He took in one last sweeping look over her delicate frame and then nodded, "I'll be seeing you."

"Don't be a stranger." Trina countered as Rory walked away, sipping from the cup.


Ava's bloody mary arrived just as Trina did.

Ava waved the young woman into the room and reached into her purse to tip the hotel employee after he set the domed, silver tray on the side table, "Thanks." She walked him to the door and closed it.

Ava was dressed in a black silk blouse and flowing slacks, barefoot for the moment. Her hair was in its signature blonde bob, not a hair out of place. She was luminous and carefully made up. A person who didn't know Ava well would probably think she looked glamorous, well-rested, and ready for the day.

Trina knew Ava better than most, Ava was putting on a good front, but was hurting, "I brought coffee and croissants." Trina set the tray and bag down on the coffee table. Ava smiled, "Aww, thank you." She hugged the young woman warmly and then squeezed her a little tighter. Trina returned the pressure, hoping to convey her love and support to the woman.

Ava loved this young lady so much! She felt so lucky that Trina cared for her so. Ava smiled and let her go, putting her hands on the young woman's shoulders, "And how are you?"

"I'm…fine." Trina smiled reassuringly, her expression open, her mixed feelings at present obvious.

Ava didn't immediately press though her brows raised in silent inquiry. She moved to the silver dome to unveil her bloody mary, "Somehow, I don't quite believe that." She took a sip and immediately took the mini-bottle of vodka that came with the drink, opened it, and added the liquor to the glass, swirling the cocktail with a straw, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"You first. I heard about what happened."

"Ah. From Spencer." Ava mused as she sipped her drink, nodded, and turned to view Trina. "So, you heard about my husband cheating on me with that… that."

Trina frowned and nodded in sympathy, "Yes. I'm so sorry, Ava."

Ava sank into a chair, waving her hand grandly, "No apologies necessary, Trina. I'm the one who should be apologizing to you for sending you after Spencer last night. I hope things weren't too difficult for you."

Trina knew a diversion when she heard one, fortunately, it was one she very much wanted to discuss as she grabbed her coffee cup and held the warmth of it in her hands. She sank into the seat opposite her mentor, "It was surprising, though not too difficult…" She didn't know where to start.

Ava sipped her drink, observing Trina. Her voice was soft, "You want to tell me what happened?"

Trina nodded and spoke softly, "I found him at the lake, brought him home to give him some water and something to eat to try and sober him up. We talked for a while, then I drove him here to the hotel. And then…"

Ava's head tilted at the silence and then she frowned in concern, "And then…?"

Trina took a fortifying sip of coffee, "And then we kissed."

Ava slowly nodded, sensing there was more, "I see. Was it…good?"

Trina blushed and looked down at the cup in her hands, a bit of a smile on her lips, "It was very, very good, yes."

Ava relaxed from a tension she didn't realize she had at seeing the young woman smile, relieved to note that she didn't send Trina into a disaster.

"Okay." Ava spoke gently, "So, what does this mean? Do you know what it means for you, just yet?"

Trina looked up at Ava, her eyes bright, "Maybe. I mean, yes and no. There's a lot more talking we're going to have to do. We didn't, um, get into much of anything last night because we…" her voice trailed off but she conveyed the rest of the sentence with her eyes.

"Oh!" Ava's tone was both surprised and not. She saw how those two looked at each other. She was just surprised that things happened so quickly, "I guess, that kiss was good if it led to other things." She gently teased.

Trina sipped at her cup again as she thought of what to say next, "Mmhmm. He said he's in love with me."

"He is." Ava confirmed readily, "I didn't realize it at first because of how close he kept to that little harpy to his side, but when your trial started? Every time I saw Spencer, he looked tortured and a little sick. I thought it was because he'd come to realize how awful that woman was." She took a beat to put her thoughts in order on that, "I think now that I look back at it, he was heart-sick because of how upset and hurt he made you." She stirred her drink with her straw, "So, have you forgiven him for that?"

Trina took a breath, "Knowing why he hurt me hasn't erased the hurt." She acknowledged softly as she traced a pattern on the side of her cup, "Knowing that he loves me? Does put some things into perspective, though. As I said, we have some things to talk about."

Ava took another hefty sip of her beverage and nodded, "Mmhmm. And did you tell him how you felt about him?"

Trina lifted her gaze to meet Ava's gentle expression and nodded, "I wanted to be honest with him, so, yes. I told him that I love him, too." It was odd to Trina how the more she said it aloud, the more solid she felt.

Ava's expression turned thoughtful, "Yeah. So, what's going to happen with Rory?"

Trina's expression turned sad, "I just met with him before I came here. I told him the truth- or most of it, anyway, and told him that we couldn't date anymore, that I kissed Spencer, and that I'm in love with Spencer."

Ava was impressed with how forthright and honest Trina was. She's such a special person. Ava smiled softly, "You are an amazing woman. I admire you so much, Trina. Spencer is a very lucky man. And with that luck, being around you could make him into a better one." An edge came to play in her tone as she continued, "And if he ever forgets how lucky he is? Or doesn't improve? Just leave him to me, honey." Her smile promised terrible retribution on Trina's behalf.

Trina blushed again as she laughed, "I'll keep that in mind."

"Don't worry, Trina-dear. I'll tell him myself the next time we cross paths that I've got your back. What he did to me was awful but if he ever hurt you again?" She shook her head slowly, seriously, "Don't you ever hesitate to call me if you need anything. A night out, money, an alibi." She grinned, "About Spencer or anything else, you hear me?"

Trina's gaze was soft and appreciative, "I do. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Trina's head tilted, "So, are you going to be okay?" Trina returned the conversation to its original topic.

Ava took another powerful sip of her drink, finishing the tall glass and setting it aside with a sharp laugh, "I'm a survivor, Trina. I'll always be okay, no matter what." The tone of her voice promising retribution was back, "Nikolas is going to suffer just as he's made me suffer. We still have that delightful pre-nuptial agreement and I'm going to get what I deserve." Ava's smile wasn't friendly as she stood, "And so will he."

Ava rubbed the condensation on her hands onto her hips and reached for Trina, "And with that, you should go and find Spencer before his coffee gets cold."

Trina rose, smiled, and hugged Ava back fondly, "Okay. Thank you, Ava."

"Welcome, my dear." Ava pressed the dear girl close to her heart one last time and then escorted her to the door to usher her out. "Tell Spencer I said 'Hi.'" Her tone wasn't quite sincere but she wanted to keep things civil for Trina.

"'Bye, Ava," Trina smiled over her shoulder as she headed to the elevator to find the 14th floor.


When Spencer opened the door, he was standing in the doorway, dressed in a suit, talking to someone behind him, "I would like my phone back now so I can text Trina. She's going to be worried if I don't text her like I promised before I disappear for the next three months."

Trina's heart dropped and her hand lowered from where she was about to knock on the door. Her expression was stunned, her voice a little louder than she intended, "You're going to prison NOW!?"

Spencer's head whipped around at the sound of her voice, "Trina! Oh my god, I'm so glad to see you!" He started to step forward in joy but stopped at the expression on her face. He took a breath, sobering, "Something's going on. Martin Grey just called and told me to put on a suit and get down to the courthouse. I thought I had a few more days but-" He looked suddenly so defeated, "I guess my time's up." His voice softened, "I'm sorry, I wanted to tell you but-"

The charming, accented voice of Victor Cassadine rang clear, "Spencer has other priorities at the moment, Miss Robinson. You understand." It wasn't a question.

Trina nodded, "Oh yes. I see, um... I was bringing you coffee and croissants but it looks like you have to go so.. Um.."

"Goodbye, Miss Robins-"

"Come with us." Spencer insisted suddenly.

Trina blinked, "To the courthouse?"

Spencer nodded and took the beverage tray and bag of croissants from Trina's hands, setting them down inside his suite, on the table near the door, "Yes! If I'm about to go away for the next three months, I want to have you by my side as long as I can. If that's okay with you?" He seemed suddenly uncertain, it's been both forever and not so long ago since he saw her last, standing at this very door, looking beautiful.

She always looked beautiful, even more so today.

Trina nodded easily, blushing a little at the intensity of his expression, "Of course. Thank you for inviting me along-"

"Spencer we really must go." Victor insisted as he steered Spencer out of the doorway and into the hall, closing the door behind them with a definitive snick. Victor stepped around Spencer and began his long-legged stride to the elevator.

Spencer grabbed Trina's hand firmly and followed his Great-uncle, matching his gait to Trina's. Her toenails were a pretty peach color, made more vivid by the white wedge sandals. How she could walk in those wedges was a mystery to him.

Then again, for all of Trina's honesty, she was still a little mysterious to him. The idea that she would even talk to him, let alone let him hold her hand after everything he's put her through was unfathomable. Maybe the unforgiving nature of being a Cassadine didn't prepare him for dealing with people with actual hearts and kindness. In his family, decorum, obedience, and influence ruled their interactions with one another, especially outsiders. Strategy, elaborate scheming, and betrayal were hallmarks of his cursed lineage.

He squeezed Trina's hand, heartened as she squeezed back in reassurance. Loyalty was also a Cassadine trait, as was Honor. Spencer hoped those things would serve him well as he started to rebuild trust with Trina when he got out of prison. He sighed, he did this to himself. There's no blame to go around. Although his plan didn't work, hearing Trina tell him how much his sacrifice meant to her?

I would do it again in a heartbeat.

The trio walked through the lobby to the front door where a car was waiting. The driver nodded to Victor and moved around the car to open the door of the front passenger seat. Spencer put his hand on the small of Trina's back, guiding her toward the back seat so he could open the door. He took her hand in a courtly fashion, as she carefully stepped into the car, smoothing the hem of her dress down to her knees with the other hand. Spencer bowed, brushed his fingers against her knuckles, and closed the door shut before quickly jogging to the other side of the car, nodding to the driver as the door was opened for him, and he slipped in next to Trina.

He smelled wonderful, sort of woodsy but not pine-like. He immediately took her hand in his and looked into her eyes, smiling despite his anxiety. He turned his eyes to the front and leaned his head down toward hers to murmur, "You smell amazing. You look amazing. Apologies for not telling you the moment I saw you." He squeezed her hand gently.

She blushed and smiled in pleasure, murmuring back, "Thank you. As for you, Spencer, you look very handsome in a suit."

He brought their joined hands to his lips and brushed her knuckles again with a soft kiss, "Thank you, Trina." He sighed in near contentment, the worries of the hour pushed aside for the moment.

Trina wanted to talk more but was wary of Victor and the driver's presence. Instead, she chose to give Spencer a few last moments of peace before they arrived. Trina laid her head on his strong shoulder and closed her eyes. She relaxed, the warmth and press of him against her side reminding her of what transpired between them hours before.

He murmured, "I'm thinking about it, too." It was nearly telepathic, their connection.


All too soon, the car slowed, "Spencer, we're here." Came Victor's impatient voice as the driver parked beside the courthouse and walked around to open the door for Victor, helping him to his feet. The driver opened the door for Spencer, and Spencer carefully ushered Trina out of the car until he was certain she was stable on her stilt shoes. He made a mental note to tell Trina about the chopine, the platformed shoes that women wore in Venice during the 15th, 16th, and 17th centuries to make women fashionably taller. The higher the heel, the higher the station. He knew she'd appreciate the knowledge. She was a cultured woman who appreciated art and history, after all, he thought with pride.

They walked up the court steps, Spencer careful to give Trina his support, and they met with Martin Grey in the lobby. Martin was dressed in a dove grey suit, and navy tie, with his black leather briefcase, held confidently in hand. He nodded his head as he took in Spencer's appearance, his Kentucky-fried-Southern-twang bombastic as he greeted him with a handshake, "Spencer! Right on time. We've got to move quickly." He glanced at Trina, "Miss Robinson? Nice for you to join us."

He turned and led the way, Victor smoothing his navy vest beneath his jacket and checking his watch, "We are cutting it close, aren't we? Come along, Spencer."

Spencer flashed a worried look at Trina, whose hand he still grasped. She squeezed it back reassuringly and they proceeded to the courtroom.

District Attorney Robert Scorpio was present and waiting, checking his watch. Martin gave Scorpio a look and motioned for Spencer to join him at the front. Trina squeezed his hand one more time and slid into the bench directly behind him, willing support to him through the few feet of distance. Spencer was just sitting down when the bailiff arrived to instruct everyone to rise. Spencer shot back up to his feet, smoothing his jacket and clasping his hands together in front of him, a bit shell-shocked by how quickly everything was happening.

The judge was an older Black woman with a short coif of hair. She walked onto the dais, sunk into her seat, examined the room, and then instructed everyone to join her in sitting. "District Attorney Scorpio, what are we doing here today? You're asking for a re-sentencing?"

Spencer was confused and looked at Martin in shock. Martin staved off any further reaction with a shake of his head and a hand on his shoulder as if to say, Let me deal with this.

He stood, "Your honor, if I may? This is news to us. The defendant willingly turned himself in after acknowledging in court that he violated his sentence at the Spring Ridge Minimal Security Correctional Facility. He even turned down a plea deal! What more penalty does the Port Charles Police Department demand!? It's a disgrace of the justice system-"

Robert Scorpio's Australian accent was tinged with irritation as he spoke over Martin, "Your Honor if I could be allowed to answer your question?"

The Judge nodded, "Yes, please do so."

"Thank you." He glared over at Martin and looked back to the judge, "Due to an over-sized prison population and understaffing of critical personnel, we are sending our prisoners to other facilities, and on the tax-payers dime. It will be at least six months until staffing returns to normal levels. Therefore, we are asking if the judge would reconsider sending the defendant to Pentonville Prison. Instead, we would assent to 90 days of home confinement as long as the defendant wore an ankle monitor and agreed to randomized house checks for the next three months."

Spencer was stunned, he didn't even know this was an option! He looked over at Martin, blindly. Martin was stroking his white beard as he considered this turn of events. He stood, "Your Honor if this offer is really on the table, we will gladly accept home incarceration for 90 days."

Spencer frowned as a thought occurred to him and he whispered a question up to Martin. Martin looked over at Robert Scorpio, "If we may, where will the location of this incarceration happen? My client is currently staying in the Metro Court hotel."

Robert Scorpio laughed, "Of course, we're not going to let a criminal stay in a luxury hotel to complete his sentence." He looked to the judge, "Your honor, this offer is only on the table if the defendant agrees to stay in his home of record, known as Wyndemere on Spoon Island."

Spencer began to surge to his feet in protest and Martin shoved him back down and hissed at him, "Sssit!" Martin's expression instantly was replaced with a confident smile to the judge, "Of course. Wyndemere is Mr. Cassadine's childhood home, and is an appropriate venue for his sentence."

The Judge's comment was pointed as she observed Spencer's silent fury, "Does your client agree with that?"

Martin smiled, "He will, if I may have a moment to confer with him?"

The judge nodded, "I will give you ten minutes to talk to your client about this offer. When I return, I'll issue my decision." She banged the gavel, the bailiff instructed everyone to rise, and the official departed with the bailiff close behind.

Trina put her hand on Spencer's shoulder, and he turned immediately to her, ignoring everyone else, "What do you think?"

Trina's brows arched at the question, "What do you mean? Of course, you have to take the offer! Anything to avoid prison, right?" She was confused as to why this was even a question.

Spencer's next words were quiet and heated, "Confined for 90 days in the house with my father, in the place where he cheated on me with… her." He didn't even want to say her name, especially not in Trina's presence.

Trina finally understood and squeezed his shoulder, "I know it's not ideal-"

"Frankly, I would prefer prison than to have to see my father day in and day out while-"

"SPENCER CASSADINE, what are you on about, now?" Victor's tone was demanding as he pushed the low, swinging doors aside and crossed to stand in front of the defendant's table, hands fisted in his pockets, "It is no longer about your preferences, my boy! If you have an opportunity to avoid prison, you are taking it. There is no question about it." Victor's tone brooked no argument.

Robert Scorpio leaned back against his table with his arms crossed, watching the circus with amusement. The fact they were even still in the courtroom was absurd to him! This was the best offer the lad was going to get, and even this wouldn't have been possible without a quiet word from Spencer's grandmother, Mayor Collins.

Not that I would ever share that tidbit with anyone.

Spencer sighed and looked back at Trina. Trina responded to the silent look, "Listen, I know you and your father are going through something terrible right now, but no one wants you in prison. Don't let him be the reason you make things worse for yourself."

"Listen to the girl, Spencer. We all have your best interests at heart here."

"Yes, we do." Trina said firmly, glancing over at Victor before imploring Spencer quietly, "And, if you're at house arrest, you can have visitors, right Mr. Grey?"

Martin nodded, "Depending on the conditions, yes, you may have visitors."

Trina's expression brightened, "See? Joss and Cam and I can come over, we can do movie nights and bring take-out! And Wyndemere is so big, you can avoid anyone you want to!" She paused and then said, "It's ultimately your choice, of course. I know you need to make the best decision you can for yourself."

Spencer was deep in thought, his eyes on Trina's face, but for once looking beyond her for a few seconds. His focus returned and he asked quietly, "You won't think I'm being a coward? Or undermining all the things I said about doing the right thing if I take the easy way out and accept this deal?"

Trina shook her head slowly, "My opinion doesn't matter here. What matters most is how you'll think of yourself."

Spencer shook his head, "No. You matter to me, Trina. Your opinions matter. Please, be honest with me," he implored.

It was as if they were both in their own world, despite the other older men standing on their periphery. Trina struggled a moment and then was honest, "I don't think you're a coward, Spencer. And I don't think being confined to your house with your father for 90 days constitutes taking the easy way out of things. If anything, it's probably going to be the hardest three months of your life, despite having me and your friends visit."

Spencer nodded soberly at her words, "Thank y-"

"And selfishly, Spencer…" she blushed, knowing how much scrutiny this conversation was having, "I would prefer to visit you at Wyndemere than Pentonville."

That decided things.

"Say less." Spencer turned to face Martin and his Great-uncle Victor and nodded, "Okay."

As if on cue, the judge returned and everyone quickly returned to their places.

"All rise."

The judge sat, brought the courtroom to order, and looked at Martin, "So, what has the defendant decided?"

Martin stood, "Your honor, my client graciously accepts the offer and looks forward to fulfilling his sentence without further incident."

The judge looked to Scorpio, who rose to his feet, "Your honor, we are pleased with the decision and ask your permission to grant this request. In twenty-four hours, we ask that Mr. Cassadine present himself to the station for processing, and to be presented with his ankle monitor."

The judge nodded and looked at Spencer, "Because the defendant is not a violent offender and is not a risk to the public's safety, and because the District Attorney, himself, has come to present the offer, I will rule for the Plaintiff's petition. Mr. Cassadine, please rise."

Spencer and Martin stood as she warned, "You have already violated one sentence and committed a crime in so doing. This is your last chance. Any other infraction and the court will not grant you any form of leniency. I better not see you back here again. Heed my words, Mr. Cassadine."

Spencer nodded gravely, "Yes, Judge."

She nodded slowly and looked at Scorpio, "If that is all?"

"That is all, Your Honor."

"Then I call this courtroom adjourned." She struck the gavel, stood, and departed again.

Trina jumped to her feet, clapping in excitement, "Spencer! Oh my god, I'm so happy for you!"

It was a bittersweet moment for Spencer. The only thing making the moment bearable was knowing that there wouldn't be physical bars separating him and Trina. He ran his hand through his hair, unaware of how agitated it made him look. He sought out Trina's face, her smile somehow finding one buried deep within him and pulling it up to the surface. He smiled back, rewarded with an even brighter one. He could feel Victor's gaze on his profile and he gave Victor a polite smile, "Thank you for your wise counsel, Great Uncle."

"You're welcome, Spencer. Happy to help." The older man's gaze shifted to observe Trina's exuberance. Spencer could see the dots connecting and spoke to distract Victor from whatever dire thoughts were going through his mind, "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm starving. Shall we grab a bite to eat?"

Victor demurred, "I have some business to take care of. You go on."

Martin piped up, "I have another client to meet, but thank you. I'll join you tomorrow when you head to the PCPD to make sure everything runs smoothly, alright?"

At Spencer's nod, Martin grabbed his briefcase and headed out of the courtroom, Victor close behind, though he stopped just before the door closed to take in the sight of his great nephew before he left.

Robert walked over to Spencer and warned cheerfully as he patted him soundly on the back, "Don't screw this up!" And with that, he turned and exited the courtroom as well.

Spencer and Trina were alone, separated by the low partition. He walked closer and reached for her hands, holding them in his, "Thank you for coming with me today."

Trina nodded, "Thank you for asking me to come."

There was a moment of charged silence and they both blushed, laughed, and stepped back, "You know what I mean…" Trina searched for her composure.

Spencer's gaze was heated, "Indeed I do." He loved watching her think of him and their passionate night together. Though right now, in a government building where anyone could walk into the courtroom at any moment, wasn't the time or place to pursue this conversation, he walked over to the low, swinging doors and crossed the threshold, holding out his hand for hers. "Shall we?"

Color still high on her cheeks, she walked to his side, and gave him her hand, "Where are we going?"

"It's my last day of freedom before I'm trapped in my house for the next three months. I want to take you out for a proper lunch."

Trina smiled and then glanced over at the clock, "Well, if that's the case, we need to go now. My shift at the gallery starts in an hour and a half."

Spencer nodded and took her arm in his as they walked out of the courtroom.


They stopped by Kelly's for lunch because it was on the way to the gallery and not too far from the Metro Court. Cameron was still working, pouring water in a patron's glass when he saw Trina and Spencer arrive. "Hey, what's going on?"

Trina smiled warmly at Cam, "Well, there's good news and bad news, the good news is that Spencer doesn't have to go to Pentonville to serve out his sentence!"

Cam blinked and smiled, "That's wonderful," Spencer's expression was less than enthused and it tempered Cam's celebration, "Congratulations?" He looked at Trina for help.

"The bad news is that he'll have to be confined to Wyndemere for the next three months."

"Oh no, you have to serve your prison sentence in an actual castle? It's a hard-knock life for you, Prince Cassadine."

Spencer pouted and threw his napkin ineffectually at his cousin, "Yeah, well, see how excited you'd be to stay trapped in the same house with the man who slept with your ex-girlfriend."

Cam did a double-take, "Wait, what? Are you serious!?" He looked around and lowered his voice, moving closer, "Your dad slept with Esme!?" Cam looked at Trina to get confirmation that his ears weren't deceiving him.

Trina nodded gravely.

"Oh man, I'm so sorry to hear that. Kinda? I mean," Cameron frowned, taking it all in, "I don't understand why either of them would do it. But I'm sadly not too surprised?" Cam looked at Trina, "Ava must be devastated."

Trina nodded sadly, "Yeah. She's heartbroken, but you know Ava.."

Cam nodded, "Scorched earth."

Trina nodded.

Spencer watched the interplay between the two dearest people in his life, remembering how Esme tried to manipulate Trina that night at the cabin by insinuating that Trina was jealous of Cam and Joss. Trina was upset but more for feeling left out rather than being jealous.

Spencer's thoughts turned dark when he also remembered that Esme drugged Trina with the very same substance that put a grown man into a coma. His blood ran cold to think of how ill Trina must have been feeling, left alone without anyone checking in on her- he had to stop that train of thought or he would rage. Spencer was nearly homicidal thinking about what she did to Trina. Esme better stay long gone.

"Spencer?"

Attuned to his mood, Trina noticed that Spencer got quiet and broody. Cam noticed the same and they both were trying to get his attention.

Spencer snapped out of his reverie, "Sorry, I was a million miles away. What did you say?" He wasn't sure of who was talking or where the conversation left off.

Cam repeated himself, "Since you're officially getting locked up tomorrow, I was going to suggest that you join me and Joss for dinner tonight."

It took a minute for Spencer to pull a facade of appreciation together, "Ah, that sounds… like a good idea?" He looked at Trina, he wanted to be alone with her more than anything tonight, but he also wanted her to be happy.

Trina nodded and looked at Cam, "Actually, if you don't mind, I was hoping to spend some time alone with Spencer." Her gaze met Spencer's considering for a moment and returned to Cam, "I told Spencer that while he's serving his sentence at Wyndemere, we would visit often so we could have movie nights with the four of us."

Cam smiled, "Movie nights at Wyndemere sounds like fun. I'm in. I'm sure Joss will be, too."

Trina nodded, Cam was the best, "So it's decided!"

Spencer's nod was now genuinely enthusiastic, thrilled to hear that Trina wanted to spend time with him alone too, "Yes! Now, what do you want to eat, my treat?"

Cam reached for his pad and pen to take their order and for the next hour, Trina and Spencer relaxed, ate B.L.T's, french fries, and shakes while occasionally chatting at Cam about this and that. When it was time for Trina to head to work, Spencer stood and walk her to the door of Kelly's. "Are you sure you don't want me to walk with you to work?"

Trina smiled, "It's a five-minute walk, and the Metro Court's in the other direction, I'll be fine. See you later?"

"Absolutely. I will text you the details." He promised.

He was looking forward to tonight.


She was looking forward to tonight.

Time was moving a little too slowly for Trina's taste.

"Trina? Just go to him." Ava's voice was teeming with amusement, and only a touch of impatience as she watched Trina stare off into space for what seemed like the fifth time that afternoon.

"I'm sorry?" Trina turned her attention back to the present.

"I said, 'Go. To. Him.' No offense, my dear, but you're not all here right now. I think I've wrapped half of these paintings in the time it's taken you to wrap that in bubble wrap."

Trina blinked and looked down at her hands. She had a miniature portrait, barely the size of a postcard, and she wound so much bubble wrap around it that it would probably bounce if she dropped it.

Trina was so embarrassed, "Oh Ava, I'm sorry to be so unprofessional!"

"Nonsense, Trina! You're more professional than I am on my best day." She chuckled and walked over to take the portrait and bubble wrap from her hands, "If I recall correctly from what you told me earlier, this will be Spencer's last night before he's stuck at Wyndemere for the next three months. Why don't you take him out and show him a good time? Or," she gently teased, "You both could stay in…"

"Ava!"

"Trinaaaah." Ava said with gentle humor at Trina's scandalized tone, "You're a young, beautiful woman. Spencer is…." She waved her hand about, "Spencer, but you love him, so I'm not going to say anything mean or snarky. At least not today." She made a face and then lifted a shoulder to look coyly over, "So, go and be with your man. One of us should enjoy being happy and in love right now."

"Ava-"

"For god's sake, Trina, do I have to physically push you out of the door?" Ava grabbed Trina's small, black purse and handed it to her, "Go! I don't want to see you again until tomorrow, you hear me?"

Trina slipped the strap over her shoulder, "I hear you."

"Good. Bye!" Ava walked to the door and opened it.

Trina smiled gratefully at the older woman and left.

Ava's phone rang. She reached into her pocket and checked the screen. Well, speak of the devil…

"Spencer?"

"Ava, I need your help."

Ava's head tilted to the side, her eyes narrowed in suspicion, "Go on…."


Trina stopped by General Hospital to visit her mother briefly as she hadn't seen her much except for a few minutes earlier in the morning. Portia smiled with tired joy at the sight of her daughter, "Hello, Baby Girl!" She exclaimed and enfolded Trina in a warm hug, "To what do I owe this surprise? Is everything alright?"

"Yes. I just wanted to check in and say hello. I also wanted to tell you something."

Portia nodded and looked around the floor, spying two empty seats and steering Trina toward them, "Okay. What's going on?" She studied Trina carefully, her daughter seemed to be in good spirits, so Portia was more curious than concerned.

"Well, first of all, I want you to know that I broke up with Rory."

Portia blinked, "Already? I mean- okay? Did something happen?"

Trina nodded, suddenly shy. Portia's head tilted, "What, is there someone else?" She leaned in conspiratorily, intrigued by the possibility of her daughter being in some sort of romance novel-like situation, "Trina Robinson, don't leave me in suspense! What happened?"

Trina's dark eyes met her mother's, "I kissed Spencer."

Portia's levity evaporated, "Wait, what? You cheated on Rory with Spencer?! What is wrong with you?"

Trina blinked at the sudden attack and stood up, "Mom?"

Portia also stood, her tone apologetic, hand over her heart, "Sorry, that was uncalled for. You surprised me, is all." She tried another track, "Baby, Spencer Cassadine?" She lowered her voice and leaned closer to her daughter, "You kissed Spencer Cassadine? After everything that he's put you through? Baby, why?"

Trina didn't care for her mother's tone, but she did understand how fiercely protective her mother was, so she hoped that by being honest, her mother would come around, "Because I love him."

Portia's hands didn't know what to do with each other, after lifting, flailing into fists, and releasing, she finally folded them to her chest. "I don't know what to say."

Trina watched her mother with a worried expression and laid a hand on her mother's arm, "You don't have to say anything. I'm telling you this because I love you and I don't want you to find out some other way."

Portia nodded, "Right, but he's going to Pentonville for like, three months! Isn't this the worst time in the world to…be involved?"

"Actually, mom, he's been put under house incarceration and will be confined to Wyndimere instead of going to prison."

Portia bared her teeth in a semblance of a smile, "Of course he is." That privileged little-

"Mom." Trina's voice was quiet and insistent, "Please don't hate Spencer. He had his reasons."

"Baby girl, I don't care. I'm not going to forgive him for hurting you and staying by that… person's side. I just can't. I'm sorry." She shook her head, her multitude of dark curls bouncing with the movement.

Trina sighed, "Well, we can talk about this later. I just wanted to stop by to share the news and tell you that I love you."

Portia nodded and hugged her daughter tightly, "I know, baby. I love you, too. And I trust you, and I trust your judgment. It's going to take me some time before I can trust his, okay?"

Trina nodded and kissed her mother's cheek, "Okay." She smiled, "It's a start."

"Mmhmm," Portia responded, obviously unconvinced.

"Bye, Mom."

"Bye, Trina." Portia sighed as she said inwardly, Bye, peace of mind.

Portia shook her head and walked back to her office. She needed some quiet to think this through.


Trina stepped off of the elevator to the 25th floor of the Metro Court elevator wondering why Spencer changed rooms, though she was more excited to see him than to ponder over the location change. She was dressed in a knee-length, sleeveless, rose-red dress with a scooped neck. She wore matching red lipstick and a grey smokey-eye to complete the look.

She knew she looked pretty considering the reactions of the driver Spencer sent to pick her up, the doorman when she arrived at the hotel, and the admiring glance of several onlookers. She walked to the hotel room wearing another pair of tall wedges, this time they were black patent leather. She felt a little like a ballerina as she laced the thin ribbon straps up her ankles to her calves, tying them into a slim bow just beneath her knees.

Her hair was arranged into a braided crown on the top of her head. She was sure she put in what felt like a hundred pins to hold the look in place. She thought it made her look elegant. She wasn't exactly sure of what the night entailed, but she wanted to look like a fitting companion for a prince. She smiled at her silliness and stopped at the door.

The door opened before she could knock. Spencer was there, looking tall, handsome, and- flustered, though immediately happy to see her. He was dressed in dark slacks and a crisp white shirt, all covered by a gray Metro Court apron, his rolled sleeves showing off his toned forearms. He drank in the sight of her as he dried his hands on a towel.

"Trina!" She was a vision. He was honored that she'd gone to such trouble for him. He stepped back to usher her into the room, tossed the towel aside, and closed the door behind her, "Forgive me, I don't have the words to tell you how utterly stunning you look right now!"

Trina glowed with pleasure at the compliment, "Thank you." She looked at his apron, "Am I early?" She was a little confused since he sent for her. She set her purse aside on the coffee table of the suite. It was much bigger and more luxurious than the room Spencer had last night. This was more a studio apartment than a hotel suite with a functioning kitchen, living room, dining room, and no doubt more things beyond her sight. She turned to look back at him.

"No! You're perfect. And on time! I'm the one who's behind. I underestimated how long it was going to take to get dinner ready." He was giddy in her presence and took a few steps toward the kitchen before turning back suddenly, "No, this isn't how I wanted to start tonight."

Trina was amused even as she was still a bit off-kilter, "Okay? How did you want tonight to start?" she asked curiously.

"Like this." Spencer was suddenly before her in a single stride, framed her face with his hands, and bent his head down to kiss her oh-so-tenderly. Trina's hands took his wrists gently and with that encouragement, the kiss changed and deepened. Spencer's lips probed hers, gently parting so his tongue could find and mate against hers in a long, deep kiss that left them both breathless.

He lifted his head, "Hi." He breathed.

She was breathless, "Hi."

They stared into each other's eyes for a moment, and then Trina remembered and asked with a surprised tone, "You know how to cook?"

Spencer smiled, loving her surprise, "I know a few things." He said with near modesty. His hands shifted to her waist, smoothing his thumbs against her, enjoying the soft texture of the fabric, and the warmth of her body through it. "During the time I thought I was orphaned, Grandmother encouraged me to participate in a myriad of different activities to find the things I liked to do. Besides theatre, I decided on a culinary summer camp." He pulled her closer, unable to resist his desire to feel her pressed against him.

She gasped softly to feel his warm and firm body against hers. She could also feel how excited he was by her presence. It was distracting and made following the conversation a bit of a challenge, "I see. So, you made dinner?"

Spencer could see color rise in her cheeks and her lips part, still dewy from their kiss. He nodded and began to walk backward, steering her along with him, and pivoted to press her against the wall of the suite. "Mmhmm." His voice was deeper now, his hands possessively gripping, "I did, but my timing is off. It's going to be another forty-five minutes until it's done."

Trina's heart was pounding. She looked up into his dark eyes, her own tracking his intense expression, "I see." She whispered.

"Do you?" He pressed his hips firmly against her so she could feel the extent of his desire for her.

She whispered, "Yes."

He kissed her forehead, looked into her eyes, and sought permission as he whispered, "Yes?"

She knew exactly what he was asking for, "Yes." She said again.

He picked her up and took her to the bedroom within the suite. The bed was a California king-sized bed. Trina noted the unlit candles and the rose petals strewn on every surface. Spencer gently set her down on the edge of the bed and sank to his knees before her, his hands hot as they slid down her legs, enjoying the texture of skin and ribbon, careful not to disturb the tantalizing crisscrossing of the straps.

The tapering of her ankles and the sight of her smooth legs behind the ribboned lattice work were unbelievably sexy to him. From the angle he knelt, he could see that she wore a black slip beneath the red dress. Something about that shimmery satin fabric between the buttery softness of her dress and her skin made her seem more feminine and inviting. The shadow from the skirt obscuring his view? The most erotic sight! He was so hard and ready for her.

The way Spencer's gaze moved from her feet to her knees melted her. She was glad she wasn't standing up because her knees would've buckled. She could feel her body stir and melt at his nearness, her nipples pressing through the fabric of her dress to seek his attention.

They were kept wanting because Spencer's gaze was reserved for the shadowed valley between her legs. He leaned in and brushed his lips against the inside of her left knee and then her right. He finally looked into Trina's eyes, his burning with a lust he couldn't contain, "May I?" It was almost courtly.

She licked at her lips, tasting him, riveted as his gaze followed the small gesture. His eyes were on her lips when she murmured, "You may."

His eyes flicked back up to Trina's to confirm what he thought he heard, nodded, and dipped his head down to lay his cheek against the tender skin of her inner thigh, inhaling deeply of her. He enjoyed the slip of her lotion against his skin, the tensing of her body, and the rising scent of her desire. He lifted his hands and drew a line up along the outside of her thighs, drawing the fabrics along with them, unveiling her mahogany flesh to the light, watching as her secrets were revealed, covered in a pretty black lace thong. Heaven.

Trina watched as he slowly revealed her body to the light, vibrating in sensation, tense in anticipation of him doing more than lightly touching and looking. She wanted him so badly but also enjoyed watching his slow, deliberate movements. It was like watching someone very carefully unwrapping a Christmas gift.

But he needed to hurry it up.

"Spencer?" Her voice was higher, anxious with need.

Spencer's gaze was fixed between her legs, as he answered in distraction, "Yes, Trina?"

Her response was a whimper, "Please?"

He looked up and saw the amazing sight of Trina Robinson, flushed, trembling, the shape of her nipples visible through the soft red fabric of her dress, thighs open and beckoning, pleading with him to act.

He couldn't let her suffer a moment longer. He hooked the lacy panties with one hand, pulling them down and off before he gently probed inside her with the other, his index finger gently sinking into the soft wetness of her core, he watched her as he slowly withdrew his finger and pressed himself more deeply within, the pad of his finger feeling the velvety slickness of her. It was maddening to think how he was so deep inside of her last night and was so close to being there again.

Trina was stunned at how strongly her body reacted to the welcomed invasion. He was slow and gentle with his single digit inside her, moving in and out. Then there were two fingers pressing inside! She hadn't realized that her eyes were shut tight at the sensation. She peeked through her lashes to find Spencer's gaze fixed on her face, watching every nuanced reaction she was having to his touch.

She was so wet, so accommodating to him. He moved his hand with more urgency, feeling Trina's hips work to match his tempo. She was so responsive and attuned to him, it felt like he was playing music with her body. Every stroke and withdrawal drew a sigh or gasp, a moan or a whimper. It was heady and sexy as hell.

He increased the rhythm, trying to keep his control, trying not to throw her down and ravish her on the spot. He needed to make this good for her. He turned his wrist and pressed his fingers up inside of her, finding the engorged ridge of her pleasure while his thumb came into play and brushed against her clitoris.

Her orgasm was swift, explosive, and complete. She wasn't even prepared for it. One moment, she sensed a distant wave beginning to build, and the next, she was straining, bucking her hips wildly against him as his fingers dove into her relentlessly. She could vaguely hear his deep voice coaxing her, "Yes, Trina. Give it all to me, baby."

She did just that.

She gasped, her thighs trembling, as she slowly came back to herself. She was staring up at the modern, silver light fixture in the center of the room and tried to catch her breath. Spencer was laying on his side beside her, the apron still absurdly tied around his neck as he watched her with pride and satisfaction, "How do you feel?"

He was always checking in with her, it made her feel special, "I feel.. amazing." She smiled softly at him, reached up, and tugged him down to bring his lips to hers, kissing him deeply. She wanted to express to him through actions what she couldn't with mere words. Her gratitude, appreciation, and love were sent into the kiss and Spencer's rumble of appreciation let her know that her message was received loud and clear.

Many minutes went by and all they did was kiss one another. They kissed each other passionately, they kissed each other softly, and sometimes they were even playful. Trina could feel his member hard, pressing into her side and she reached for him, stroking him through his slacks.

If he hadn't spent all day fantasizing about her doing this to him, he would have scrounged up an objection. He could have suggested that they wait until after dinner. That he could control himself and wait until later.

But it would be a lie.

He couldn't wait.

Trina's hands unfastened his pants and pushed the fabric of the apron to the side. Without a moment's hesitation, she slid to her knees and pushed away the fabric that covered his groin so his member could spring free and ready into her hands. She took the tip of him into her mouth, already tasting the salty sweetness there.

"Trina.." He moaned, his hands gripping the cover of the bed into tight fists as he watched her head begin to move over him. He gritted his teeth, "I'm not going to last if you keep that up."

He could have sworn he felt her response of, "Good." As if she were holding a microphone and the sound was reverberating through him. It made him even harder and he bit his lower lip, trying to stave off his orgasm. He wanted this to last, this amazing moment where he watched Trina learn him, one hand moving along with her soft, wet mouth over his shaft while her other hand delicately cupped and massaged him. Now it was his hips that were moving, he wanted to warn her that he was close to the edge and that it could get messy for her, but instead he pleaded with her, "Don't stop, baby. Please. Don't stop."

She was watching him, just as he watched her, and could feel him stiffen and begin to pulse in her hand. His hoarse shout and the sudden stillness were the only warnings she was given before the hot taste of him flooded her mouth. She swallowed the essence of him reflexively, intrigued by the wet smoothness of him in her mouth. It was strange, but not entirely unpleasant.

The sight of Trina taking him deep and milking him was more than he could bear. He shut his eyes and relinquished himself to the single most incredible moment of his entire existence. There was nothing but light, love, her warm grasp, and her incredible mouth.

He went limp in her hands, sated. Trina licked her lips, savoring him while sitting back, her hands gently resting on his knees, over his pants.

Spencer looked through his thick lashes at her, "That was- You are- Incomparable, Trina Robinson."

She smiled, pleased with herself, "You're welcome, Spencer Cassadine."


Spencer made kleftiko for the main course. It was a flavorful, tender lamb dish marinated with garlic, olive oil, and lemon juice, then baked in a pouch with potatoes and vegetables. It was savory, tangy, and comforting. The accompanying pita bread wasn't homemade, but Spencer assured Trina that it was as close an approximation as it could get because it came from a local Greek restaurant run by a former cook from Wyndemere.

He also purchased delicious dolma as an appetizer, whose grape leaves were skillfully wrapped around rice, meat, and delicious spices; and for dessert, galaktoboureko, which consisted of crispy, buttery thin layers of phyllo dough that covered a luscious custard and were topped with a thin cinnamon-honey syrup. They sipped visináda, a refreshing, non-alcoholic beverage of cherry-lemon syrup and soda water on ice.

They were relaxed and comfortable with one another as they feasted. Spencer shared details about his life that Trina had never heard before. About his life with his father abroad, about what he considered to be his theatrical triumphs on stage. He even declared that he could have had the lead in a musical, had he not returned to Port Charles to enact his schemes for vengeance.

"Okay, then sing for me!" Trina demanded in a playful challenge.

Spencer sat up straight, took in a deep breath, and began to sing what he no doubt thought was a romantic french love song about lovers in a park. Trina tried her best not to wince at a sour note here and there and nodded encouragingly. Spencer abruptly stopped, "It's terrible, isn't it?"

Trina tried to soften the blow, "Terrible? It's not that bad."

"But it is bad." Spencer sighed melodramatically and sat back, taking his napkin off of his lap and laying it beside his plate on the table, "You don't have to sugar coat it. I've had private instruction with the' premier tenor' in France, and he told me I couldn't hold a note with glue on the handle." His pout was hilarious and Trina laughed.

He smiled watching her. "You're beautiful."

"Why, thank you. You're pretty handsome yourself." She easily rejoined, trying to act normal with the rush of pleasure his compliment gave her.

"Did you enjoy dinner?"

She nodded, "It was delicious. You are a very good cook, Spencer."

"Thank you," His smile was sweet. He was so calm and natural with Trina. He loved being with her, she made him feel so alive and present. As his memories turned to the start of their evening together, a stray thought occurred to him that set his heart to pounding. He leaned forward, "Trina?"

Trina was sipping her drink and set it down at the urgency of his inquiry. His expression was changing and becoming intense.

"I know there's a lot of stuff we need to talk about and work through. A lot of apologies and explanations that you deserve. I promise that you will get them all." He quietly vowed, "Yet, there is something else right now that I need to ask you."

She didn't know what it was but she felt the temperature of the room rise exponentially as Spencer watched her. She licked her lips in anticipation, "Okay..?"

"Are you… wearing underwear right now?" He didn't remember her putting them back on after their earlier interlude.

Trina's eyes brightened with a knowing gleam as she slowly shook her head, "No. I am not." She affirmed.

Without another word, Spencer got to his feet, walked around the table, and helped Trina rise to her feet. His hands were a little unsteady as he stood behind her and began to unzip the back of her dress, pushing the soft red fabric until it pooled at her platformed feet. Next, he put his hands on her hips and steered her to the nearest bit of sturdy furniture, in this case, it was the arm of the sofa.

There, he pressed himself against her, his hands sliding over the satiny fabric of her lacy slip and cupped her breasts tenderly in his hands, his lips kissing the back of her neck, nibbling on her shoulder.

Trina was incredibly turned on by Spencer's persistent hands and ready body at her back. Somehow not being able to see him and only feel him behind her made her nerve ends tingle and her heart pound. She gasped as his hands massaged her, his fingers toying with the rigid peaks of her nipples. Her legs trembled and his hands rose to her shoulders, massaging and then gently pushing her, encouraging her to bend forward until her face was pressed against the pillows of the sofa, her derriere lifted enticingly before him.

Spencer stepped back, pointed, and growled, "Don't move." He turned and left the room.

Trina was stunned and it took her a moment to register that she was lying, face-down, ass up in the air and Spencer was gone as if he dissolved into thin air! As she began to straighten, he was back, wearing only his shirt, and holding a fistful of silver foiled packets.

She was waiting just where he left her and she looked amazing. Her black slip hiked around her trim waist, her gorgeous behind lifted into the air while she balanced on those amazing black platform wedges, the black crisscrossing of the straps up to her knees the perfect wrapping of the sexy bombshell that was Trina Robinson.

He ripped open a condom wrapper, deftly sheathed himself within it, and then within Trina in record time. He wasn't rough with her, but he was very decisive in pressing himself inside of her to the hilt.

He feels amazing and is so very deep.

Trina was already close to orgasm, driven there by the power of Spencer's ardor. Spencer must have sensed it because he didn't move at all. He was very still, his hands firmly stroking her back and sides before he bent over her, pressed his lips against her ear, and whispered darkly, "What do you want, Trina?"

She gasped and rolled her hips against him. He kept still. Instead, he sighed his pleasure in her ear and continued to whisper, "Then take it." He shifted his hips back just enough to half withdraw from her, and stayed there, allowing Trina to press herself back against him.

Trina braced herself on her arms and lifted herself so she could control the angle and press herself onto him and away again at her speed. He roughly whispered ungentlemanly encouragement in her ear, as she found a rhythm that worked for her.

Spencer's hands held her firmly, but he allowed her to control the pace. It was torturous feeling her squeeze and slide against him again and again until she cried out with another orgasm. He watched her back and neck arch with pleasure before she sank, now with him supporting her, as her face lowered back to the cushions of the couch.

He rubbed her back again, soothingly, as she collected herself. He didn't give her too much time to recover, however, because he wanted to build on that pleasure and stoke those fires to an even hotter inferno. He began to move slowly at first and then in earnest, bunching the fabric of her slip and wrapping it around his hand like a pommel as he smoothly pressed in and out of her in a steady rhythm.

Trina moaned loudly and did her best to keep up with him, somehow finding the strength to give just as good as she got by meeting his thrusts in equal measure. There were no more words or sexy whispers between them, only gasps and the sounds of their bodies as they made love on the arm of the sofa. Trina's hair was unable to stay in its pinned style, slowly succumbing to gravity and their physical passion, unraveling and sliding out of place until it formed a woven curtain between Trina and the outside world.

All she felt was Spencer and the press of the upholstery against her as another climax began to build, once more, from within. Spencer could feel it, he was close himself, and he dedicated his all to driving his body into her again and again until they both peaked at the same time; shuddering and straining against one another until wave after wave of pleasure began to recede. It left him both limp and boneless on the sofa, his body heavily laying on top of hers.

He gathered what strength he could muster and carefully withdrew from within the woman he loved, sinking onto his knees behind her. He softly kissed each of her prone buttocks and gently eased the black slip back over her, covering her rump.

Trina shivered at the satin slid over her sensitive skin. She joined him down on the floor, her knees together, legs to the side as she used the side of the sofa to support her back, facing Spencer.

He was a beautiful young man. His hair was disheveled, his skin flush, the leanly muscled frame mostly hidden from her for the moment behind the slightly rumpled white shirt. At her regard, he ran his fingers through his hair and balanced his weight on his arm. He was out of words at the moment. He was incredibly mindful of their dwindling time together.

It will be months before he could take Trina out and about again.

Trina reached for his hand. "Three months isn't as long as you think," she said gently, knowing without question what was going through his mind. "And I can come and visit you."

"I know." Spencer said softly, "It's the only thing that makes my incarceration something I may survive. You and Cam and Joss." He looked around the suite and then back at Trina, "Do you have to go now?"

There was the little-boy-lost look again.

Trina shook her head and got to her feet, "Not yet." She reached for him and pulled him to his feet. "Come lie with me and just…hold me."

He smiled gently and nodded.


Spencer held Trina's hand as they walked from the car to the front door of her home. He could see that despite the late hour, nearly every light in the house was on and there was a figure waiting near the window, a not-so-subtle signal that they shouldn't tarry. It was already well past two in the morning.

Trina loved the planes of Spencer's face half illuminated by light and stark in shadow. He was so striking to her. Why or how he came to be in love with her, she can't say she entirely understood but was happy about it. She would dwell on the other side of things later, Spencer wasn't going anywhere, after all.

Spencer's hand found the small of her back and pulled her close for a searching goodbye kiss, ignoring the pointed stares a few feet away. Nothing was going to intercede with his last moment tonight with this amazing young woman.

All too soon, Spencer's thumb brushed just under her lower lip as the kiss slowed and ended.

"Thank you for a wonderful first date, Spencer."

"You're welcome." His eyes glowed with love and fondness.

Hers glowed back with equal affection.

"Sleep well." He murmured as he stepped back, slipping his hands into his pockets.

"You, too." She watched him nod once more, turn, and return to the car.

Trina knew Spencer wouldn't leave until she was safely ensconced inside with closed the door behind her.

So she did just that.