Three

"You really didn't want to see this did you?" Robin asked Patrick as they slowly walked hand in hand out of the theatre and towards their car amidst the rushing crowd around them.

"What makes you say that?" He smirked.

"You looked like you were practicing sleeping with your eyes open. The only thing you seemed to enjoy was intermission."

"During intermission I had your full attention." He leaned down so he could speak closer to her ear. "Besides, sleeping has become one of my favorite activities of late, or rather going to bed."

"Just bed? How about linen closets, empty exam rooms, office chairs, couches…" she started ticking off, eliciting a bark of laughter from him as he pulled her closer and put his arm around her shoulders and thumped her arm companionably.

"I did like how the wife and the mistress got along. I mean if you're going to get married you might as well have everyone be amiable," Patrick teased.

"You're a pig."

"Nothing new there." Patrick chuckled. "What was with that whole doctor as a poet thing anyway? I didn't get it when I was in college, don't get it now. Oh, and now he's a singer," he said in reference to the musical version of Dr. Zhivago they had just seen.

"I've known plenty of doctors who are also poets," Robin said.

"Yeah, in France." Patrick snorted. "I don't have any poetry to recite, but I can show you my favorite French activity when we get to the car."

Robin rolled her eyes. "Well, I think it was beautiful. I wasn't sure about turning this story into a musical, but they really pulled it off. Now, more people will get to see this great work in a more accessible way."

"Well, I would have preferred the musical to having to read the book."

"So much for being cultured." Robin rolled her eyes as she and Patrick arrived at Patrick's sleek, sporty car and walked over to the passenger side.

"Exactly," Patrick said and instead of opening the car door Patrick leaned back against the car, bent his knees and put his arms around Robin's shoulders and pulled her to stand between his legs.

"This where you're going to give me your French demonstration?" Robin smirked up at him.

"Why not?" Patrick grinned. "Look around. We're not going anywhere for a while in this traffic. We might as well entertain ourselves," he said in reference to the back up of cars waiting to either back out of spots or to get out of the parking lot. "Can you think of anything else to do while we wait?" He licked his lips.

"Word games?"

Patrick laughed. "Are you warm enough?" He straightened her dark blue pashima around her shoulders.

Robin nodded and put her hands on Patrick's chest. She looked at him with a teasing light in her eyes and ran her hands down his chest to rest on his stomach. "So, no on the word games?"

Patrick cupped the back of her head with a hand and assaulted her with a heated kiss. He moaned into her mouth as he tasted the tea and cookies they'd shared between kisses during intermission. His other hand slid over the silk of her baby blue slip dress, down her hips, to the back of her thigh and over her firm butt then up her back to tangle in the thin strips of silk crisscrossing over her bare back. He pulled back slightly to mutter, "I should have ripped this dress off you the moment you opened the door tonight."

"Just to avoid the play?" Robin teased her fingers inside the waist band of his pants.

"Added bonus." He leaned back in to continue kissing her. He gasped when Robin cupped him. His hips thrust forward pressing his arousal against her hand. Taking his dare, Robin unbuttoned his slacks and slid down his zipper. When it was open she teased his length with her fingers pulling from him a moan. "You have to stop that," Patrick whispered in her ear.

"Why?" Robin asked as she nipped kisses over his collarbone.

"Because you're going to get us arrested."

"Good thing my uncle is the police commissioner."

"And who will explain to him you giving me a hand job in the parking lot of the Port Charles Performing Arts Center, me or you?"

Robin froze. "Good point." She immediately zipped up his pants and put her hands more safely on his arms.

"It might have been fun to see the expression on his face," Patrick murmured against her neck. "Before he shot me."

"Ahem."

Robin and Patrick froze. Patrick lifted his head and looked at the security guard who was standing behind Robin, while Robin hid her face in Patrick's chest.

"It's time for you young people to take your performance elsewhere. We're locking up the lot now."

"Yes, sir." Patrick grinned and bit back a chuckle as the security guard whose wink belied his stern tone. He walked off and Patrick peeled Robin off him and helped her into the car.

"That was so mortifying," Robin giggled.

"A lot less so since you're hands weren't in my pants."

"He could have seen that!" Robin groaned and covered her face.

"Get in the car, perv," Patrick held her door open.

"Where are you going?" She asked a few minutes later when he turned right instead of left on Port Charles Boulevard.

"My place."

"Let's go to my place."

"Mine is closer."

"By like two minutes and mine has a shorter distance between the car and front door, not to mention a more private route. It's also closer to the hospital and we get to stay in bed longer."

"You're five minutes closer than I am."

"Yeah, five more minutes in bed tomorrow morning. Or the shower."

Patrick pulled a u-turn.

Robin's hand shook as she tried to get the key into the front door. That was because Patrick was running his hands over her body and his lips under her ear. "I'm never going to open this if you don't stop."

He reached around her, took the key and opened the door without looking. Once they were inside the door Patrick picked her up, kicked the door closed and walked to the bedroom where he put her down on the bed. He loomed over her and licked his lips. "I have wanted to do this since you opened the door tonight." He slid his hands up her thighs and pushed her dress until it was crumpled around her waist. He bit his lip as he saw her white thong underwear and sheer thigh high stockings. He slid his fingers under the strings at each hip and put his knee on the bed and leaned down and slid his tongue into her welcoming mouth. Robin wrapped her legs around his waist as he moved his hands under her dress to knead at her bare breasts.

"Why did we waste time at that damned play?" Patrick asked as he slid down her body and took off her shoes.

"Because you were a sweet man who bought the tickets when you heard me say I wanted to see the play."

"Sweet?" I'm not feeling very sweet." He stood up and undid his pants and pushed them and his underwear down his legs. "Does this look sweet?" He began to unbutton his blue shirt.

"Actually." Robin licked her lips.

Patrick grinned and sat down on the bed and began to slowly and seductively roll her stockings down her legs. When her legs were bare he traced his fingers up and down enjoying the little sounds of pleasure she made. He didn't stop until she began to moan his name over and over again in a pleading litany. Pleased with himself, Patrick crawled up her body, settled himself between her legs and initiated a kiss that led to hours of long, slow love making.

Hours later Patrick lay awake looking at the ceiling that Robin had a friend paint in blue and white clouds, with little pixies and fairies flying around and peeping out at random. When he had first seen it he had teased her about it, but she had simply said that it made her happy. He couldn't make fun of that. Tonight, with the moonlight streaming in the window making it glow he realized that it made him sad.

Robin was sleeping, her naked body pressed against his, her head resting on his shoulders. He was gently stroking her hair and savoring the feel of her breathing on his chest. He put his other hand on her naked hip and, as expected, felt himself get hard. He wanted her again. Worse, he needed her and that scared him to death.

No strings. No commitment. Friends and sex. That's all this was supposed to be. But that's not all it was he finally admitted, his eyes on the fairy that always reminded him of Robin. The moment he heard her mention her desire to live in Rome he had felt like he was being dropped from a great height. Moments later he set out to strike back and only had the experience of sheer panic at the possibility that he had just blown it. He was feeling things he had never felt and he was losing control of himself. The only thing he could think of to get control back over himself was to disengage from Robin and that only led back to the panic.

What the hell was he going to do?