"Do you want to get together tonight?"
Robin looked up at Patrick from where she sat on the bench between lockers. She was clad, like the last time he barged in, only in a bra and pants. This time a rose colored bra and jeans. She didn't even bother to comment because it wasn't like he hadn't seen it before. Or touched it. Touched her. The thought sent a shaft of lust through her body.
It's been two days, one night, since she left him gaping behind her on the bed. Since then, they hadn't really spoken except as their jobs required and she assumed that, like her, he had been engaging in avoidance tactics. She can't imagine that he's happy about how she walked out on him, but then she can't imagine that he'd really complain either. He was the one who refused to give emotional intimacy a try while she, though rusty, was willing to give it a shot. She reminds herself that she agrees that it's for the best.
"Sure." Her shirt is hanging forgotten in her hands. His gaze felt like it was burning her bare skin.
"I have two more consults and a surgical follow-up." He stood with his hands on his hips flaring out the white lab coat he wore over blue scrubs. He wasn't exactly glowering, but he definitely wasn't smiling either. Whatever the expression was meant to convey, it made Robin nervous, but not nervous enough to pass up another opportunity to feel the weight and fill of him.
"I'll meet you at the hotel in a couple of hours." She wondered if he could hear her heart beating, echoing, in the locker room or if that was just her hyperactive imagination.
Patrick opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it and nodded curtly before gruffly agreeing and walking out. Robin guesses this means that he didn't spend last night with another woman, at least not having sex. There are a lot of things she could say about Patrick that would not be flattering, and she has, but she knew he would keep his word in this. She also assumes that hadn't gotten his fill of her either.
As she finishes changing back into street clothes she wondered what he had been about say.
>>>>>>
A little over an hour after she left the hospital she was cleaning up after her hurried dinner when the telephone rang.
"Hello?" She said into the cordless phone she took down from its cradle on the wall near the kitchen entry.
"Robin, how are you, luv?"
Robin closed the dishwasher and leaned back against the kitchen counter and smiled. "Hi Mom. I'm great. How are you? Where are you?"
"Back in London. Have you heard from your father?"
"He was just in Port Charles, not that he let me know, and then he blew out of town again to chase Luke to the Markham Islands." Robin bit her lip, fighting back the anxiety thinking of her father churned up these days.
"Robin, what happened? There's something in your voice. What did that bastard do?"
"Nothing. It doesn't matter." Robin shook her head and toyed with a pencil she had sitting with a pad near the phone. She never could get one over on her mother. She didn't know if that was motherly instinct or WSB training. Probably both.
"Robin!"
Unable to resist her mother's authoritative tone she told her what her father had said to her. She refused to cry over him and the hurtful words, but how she wanted to.
"I'm going to find him and kill him."
"Please don't, I can't go to another funeral for him."
"Ah, luv, I'm so sorry. He doesn't know what he's talking about. He hasn't had the joy of knowing you."
"The thing is, Mom, some of what he said was true, but I'm intent on changing that."
"You don't need to change, but a little fun might be in order." Anna's voice was a loving lecture.
"I thought so too. Remember I told you about Dr. Patrick Drake?"
"The, what did you call him, insufferable pig who took such good care of you when you were sick?"
"We're, uh…" Robin broke off. Maybe this wasn't something she should be telling her mother?
"Dating? How wonderful, Robin! I could tell from the way you spoke about him that you were quite taken with him."
"Not exactly dating, Mom."
"Robin Anna Scorpio, what does not exactly dating mean?"
Robin winced at the censorious tone. "We're having a fling."
"I take it this was his idea. What I can't fathom is why you agreed to it!"
"Because I want to." Robin closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. Did no one in her life think her capable of having fun? Were these not the same people who kept nagging at her to do just this?
"Robin, darling, you can't have a fling with someone you already have feelings for. For someone like you it would be hard enough anyway."
Robin didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Why was it the only person who thought she was a sensible adult was Patrick? "I'm fine, I'm enjoying myself." Or at least they would be once they adjusted to the situation, she told herself as she remembered the past two days of uncharacteristic avoidance at the hospital. If they continued to see each other maybe they would start to spend time together outside the hospital and outside bed?
Wait, Robin paused, wasn't there a rule against that?
"Darling, I just worry for you. Mother's prerogative. If you hear from your father, let me know."
"Is there something wrong?" Robin frowned as a familiar feeling washed over her. Something she hadn't felt in years. Her mother didn't hold the exclusive on being able to read tones of voice.
"No, luv. I just want to finally see my ex-husband. I love you."
"I love you, too." Robin hung up the phone unable to shake the feeling that something was going on with her father that her mother didn't want her to know.
>>>>>>>>>
"So eager, Dr. Scorpio, that you're waiting by my door?" Patrick commented as she pulled out his key card and leaned down to press a kiss to Robin's lips.
"You're late." She followed him into the room.
"Dr. Quartermaine wanted to talk to me before I left."
"About what?" Robin put her purse down on the chair closest to the door and watched as Patrick began emptying his pockets out on to the dresser. It began to feel too domestic so she walked over to the window and looked out at the view of Port Charles.
"He got wind of the competition between me and my father and wanted to warn me not to be reckless." Patrick's tone was dismissive, but Robin silently agreed with Alan's concern. Both Noah and Patrick were amazing doctors in her estimation, but bravado had felled others before them. She opened her mouth to say so, but before she could speak Patrick, his white shirt unbuttoned, walked over and put his hands on her shoulders and began to knead the tension out of them.
"It's a pretty night." Robin grimaced at the inane comment, but once again she was feeling constrained by their situation. Normally they would talk about work or Noah or her concern about her father, but this was a situation that was anything but normal and she was afraid to bring anything too personal into the conversation while he was touching her. She leaned forward and pressed her forehead to the cool glass. Her breath formed a fog and then disappeared.
"You're pretty." Patrick bit his lip and traced his fingers over her jaw line, watching her reaction in the window. "Still can't take a compliment."
"You still need to teach me." She leaned back and looked up at him. As she looked into his deep brown eyes she reminded herself that the entire point of agreeing to do this was to break down some of the guard that held her back from life. There was nothing in the rules that said she had to pretend she and Patrick were complete strangers having sex appointments. Part of the reason she decided to have the fling with him was because of that fact. It would be tricky, but she decided to try and relax.
He leaned down and gave her a soft kiss with just a hint of tongue. "What's wrong? You're tense." His eyes darted around her face obviously looking for some clue as to what she was thinking.
"My mother called, she was asking about my father. I got this old feeling that something is going on. That he's in some kind of danger." She let him turn her around and stood pliant as he looped his arms around her.
"You're worried about him. That's a good sign."
"I lived through him being brutally murdered once and I have no mind to do it again."
"You care about him, there's nothing wrong with admitting it. You heard me admit it to my father."
Robin stared hard at Patrick. "Fine, I care about him enough to not want to see him murdered."
"Such a generous concession, Robin," Patrick said dryly. "Do you want a glass of wine?"
"No."
"What do you want?" he asked huskily, pulling her more tightly against him, showing her how much he wanted her.
In answer she stood up on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss her. She let herself get lost in the kiss, but at the end of the night she knew she would still sleep alone.