A/N: Hello! Thanks to BoandNora-ItsOneWord, Pound68 (thank you for the compliment and I SO agree about the gravity/subtext in this storyline), 4gcrazyme (very true, all of that lol), and Wanda Sawyer for your reviews! I tried to put this out yesterday because Robert's back, but I didn't make it in time! Hope you enjoy it all the same!
Chapter 15:
Katherine should have known that Robert would show up tonight, the moment she had taken the call from the man who called himself P.K. Sinclair; but still, she felt a prickle of dread when she saw her former fiancée attempting to discreetly look at her guest reservation list. She swung over to him, smoothly flipped the book closed, and spoke near enough that they wouldn't draw attention. "It's in there. I made the reservation myself. I don't recall making one for you."
"Well, you knew I'd drop by," Robert said, appearing so unbothered and smug that a prickle of agitation flared pretty much immediately.
"Especially since your ex-wife is having dinner with the man that broke the two of you up."
Robert gave a little abject smile, but he recovered far too quickly. "Hmmm, well I have a little secret that I should let you in on."
Katherine was uncomprehending, and stoic. "That's a switch."
He leaned in slightly. "She's not gonna be here tonight."
Kate blinked twice before pleasantly asking, "Drink?"
"Yeah," as she moved, he touched her arm, realizing too late that he'd be imposing on her, "uh, let Decker get it!"
"No really, allow me," she insisted with a touch of sarcasm. Just a touch enough to give the man some pause, which was all good and well considering…
Robert followed her and took a seat as she went around the bar. The truth was that she was horribly curious as to what they were up to, and she supposed that was her own fault; but that feeling of being shut-out apparently didn't go away just because she broke up with Robert. She fumed to think that even that little tidbit of information about Anna not appearing tonight could intrigue her.
That was, if it even was the truth and not some sort of deception that Robert was concocting for his precious mission.
But why make something like that up?
She couldn't think about it, not with Robert sitting there. She pushed it out of her mind and he watched as she poured.
"I have another little secret." When she was silent and merely set down a cocktail napkin in front of him, he took it as permission to continue. "I'm… uh, I'm very sorry about how I made you feel as if… before, you know."
She pushed the drink towards him. "That'll be a dollar-fifty, please."
He rummaged in his pockets for his wallet, as if he forgot that people typically paid for these services. Though he probably had, because when they were together, she hadn't charged him. She almost wanted to leave his apology unacknowledged, but then she thought better of it. It seemed like he wanted to clear the air, and she wouldn't feel right denying a man she had shared a lot with from such a simple thing.
"What exactly are you sorry for making me feel?" she asked.
"Just… making you feel not a part of things."
"Well, I wasn't, was I?" she said ruefully.
He proffered two bills, laying them in front of her. There was a sudden humility in his manner that surprised her, and he spoke again. "Then, I guess I'm sorry that I ever let you love me. I knew what you were getting into. You didn't."
For a moment, Kate considered him. And then she gently pushed his money back towards him. "Don't ever apologize for that," she said quietly. "It's on the house."
It was probable that Anna had told Robert about their conversation, and if so, that would explain the sudden apology. She thought maybe she was seeing things a little more clearly now… Robert hadn't wanted to hurt her. And whether or not Robert still had feelings for his ex-wife, he had loved Kate and cared for her. Maybe their lives just weren't compatible in the way they had hoped.
"Commissioner?" Angel poked his head over.
"Yeah?"
"I think there's someone looked for you." The shorter man jerked his thumb at the door, where Sam was standing, waiting for her boss.
"Excuse me." Robert slid off his stool and guided Sam away from the dining area, leaving Kate with her thoughts.
Anna probably wasn't coming tonight, she decided. Robert was clearly going to be lying-in-wait for Mr. Sinclair, doing something that involved his police department. He was probably going to make a scene. If the man on Spoon Island had the same temper that Robert did, there would almost certainly be fireworks. Did Kate really want to be in the middle of that, on a professional level and a personal level?
She couldn't bring herself to say 'yes'. She didn't think she would get over Robert so quickly, no. She would always want to know what was going on, of course. But being a part of this danger and strangeness? …no.
She recalled Robert's behavior over the past few months—he and Anna and Sean and their secrets. Kate had seen a corner of their relationship that had never been unearthed before, and she hadn't liked it. She wanted so badly to be there for Robert when Anna had gone off, and the two exes were at-odds over Casey Rogers. A part of Kate might have even been viciously pleased at the new distance between them. Finally, she could become Robert's rock—the person he trusted above all.
But Robert had really just been waiting for Anna to signal and to go running after her… And something had switched in them by the time they had returned, with Robin in tow and without the elusive Casey Rogers.
There was tension in Robert, tension in Anna, and tension between them. Kate hadn't known how to deal with it, so when the last straw came, she broke. And watching this play out from afar, she was still happy that she did.
P.K. Sinclair's voice over the phone was another intrigue. He was foreign, seemed well-mannered and aristocratic, in a different way than Katherine's own roots. She even got a slight suspicion that the man might have known who she was.
"Mrs. Lavery..."
"You know the name? Well, of course, everybody does in Port Charles, but… I have the advantage here. I knew her when she was Mrs. Robert Scorpio."
He couldn't have picked a better remark to make to Kate, specifically. She couldn't help but think it was suspicious. And how could such an innocuous comment sound so much like the opposite? Maybe the little she knew about the man on Spoon Island had her imagining the undercurrent of some threat. That was probably it.
Kate was going to drive herself crazy before the night was out if she kept this up. She needed something to take her mind off it, so she puttered around the bar for a bit, assisting Decker before returning to hostess. After meeting Sam at the door, Robert had disappeared at some point without another word to her, but she preferred it that way; it made it easier to at least somewhat concentrate on her work! Her eyes kept going to the clock, as the minutes ticked down to 9pm.
It was a little after that when Katherine heard a voice behind her that caused her to jump, "Good evening."
"Good evening," she said automatically, spinning around to face the guest. He was dressed sharply in a tux, white gloved, overdressed in the way she might have expected to see in circles far from Port Charles. All she could think was that this had to be him, the man on the island.
"Ms. Delafield?"
The accent was familiar from earlier that afternoon. He was slight, nearly skeletal… but still somehow suave. There was confidence in the way he briefly looked her up and down, appraising her. It had to be him, and she could only stare.
"I believe you have a reservation for me, the name's 'Sinclair'? P.K. Sinclair."
This was the man who had three WSB agents scared, and destroyed Robert's marriage so thoroughly and painfully that Robert wouldn't even speak about it? Katherine hadn't known what she had expected, but it wasn't the man standing before her now. His white-gloved hands gestured to her, and she didn't know what it was for.
"Do you want me to… repeat that?"
Katherine unfroze immediately, realizing how foolish she must have seemed. "Oh! No, no… no. I'm sorry, I know who you are… Mr. Sinclair…"
"Well apparently we… have a problem." Again, what he said sounded the opposite of what he meant, as if there was not a care in the world and certainly no problem.
Kate frowned, adamantly returning to her hostess persona. "No, no, no, oh no problem," she assured him.
"Good!" he rubbed his palms together with stately enthusiasm, again almost comical for the atmosphere. "Tell me, has my dinner guest arrived? Anna Lavery."
But he hadn't seen Robert and Sam come through the doors in that moment.
"Mr. Sinclair will be dining alone this evening,"
Katherine caught how the man's face transformed before he turned to the voice, the charm melting off and replaced with dark familiarity at the sound of Robert's Australian burr. Even if she hadn't been aware, Kate thought that she could have guessed that Sinclair knew Robert better than anyone would have reason to expect. And that he didn't like him.
Robert took assured steps right up to the man, "In a cell in the Port Charles jail." He was both enjoying this and posturing with his typical macho attitude. Kate rolled her eyes behind them.
"What's the meaning of this, Scorpio?"
Her ex-fiancée clicked his tongue. "At the risk of sounding boring, I'll repeat myself: I have a special cell reserved for you."
Katherine hated when Robert got like this, even if the person deserved it. She knew this was a humiliating experience for Mr. Sinclair and that Robert wanted it to be so. It was hard to watch when she didn't understand the situation. She glared off to the side, half-ignoring it.
"Now, Ms. Delafield doesn't like scenes, so we'll come quietly." Robert was only smirking a little. "I got a warrant… for your arrest."
Katherine caught the shift in Mr. Sinclair's stance, from tense to relaxed, after a pause. Then there was a soft chuckle. "Alright, Scorpio. I'll come along with you and we can sort this out in a more… private location." His tone was one you might use when placating an unreasonable child. He turned back to Katherine and smiled politely. "I apologize for any trouble this has caused."
"Not at all," Kate said wearily. She knew there was more going on than met the eye, but it was amazing how this man so easily made her feel a sense of sympathy. She didn't know what it was, but with it came a sense of revulsion. "Please, sort out your issue."
No sooner had they disappeared out the door then Frisco was at her elbow, his blue eyes focused outside. "That's… I wanna see what that's about." He began to walk past her, "I've got to—"
"No, no!" Kate protested. "No, don't go now! You have another set to do… all these people—"
He briskly kissed her on the cheek, his mind already at the police station, clearly. "You'll be terrific, they'll love you!"
"Frisco!"
He pointed at her. "You owe me a night, don't forget it!" And then he was out the door.
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Everything Faison did was an irritation to Robert. He kept his sunglasses on in the car and through the police station, even though the sun had long fallen.
But you won't be able to hide away much longer, Robert thought to himself as he opened the door to his office.
Faison strode right in, not appearing worried at all. Another infuriation. "Thank you."
Robert didn't respond, moving to sit at his desk.
"How many phone calls do I get?"
"Two is customary."
They sat across from each other. "Well, I guess it will be difficult to find an attorney who's specialized in the horrendous crimes I am accused of… living on Spoon Island without a properly signed lease…? Conducting an archeological dig without a city permit?" Faison finally removed his sunglasses and looked at Robert with exaggerated gravity. "Is there anything else, Scorpio?"
Robert signed the document he was looking over and capped his pen. "I'll repeat once more, you're simply being detained for questioning. No charges have been filed. Yet."
Faison smiled softly. "We both know why I'm here… You're perturbed over my dinner date with Anna. Well, frankly, I'm flattered you consider me a rival."
Robert kept his expression flat as Faison mentioned Anna's name, but allowed himself a slight upturn of the lips. "You've got it all figured out, haven't you?" he mocked.
Faison tucked his sunglasses into his coat. "Unfortunately for you, these obvious tactics are bound to turn her off. But, that's your problem."
Due to Anna running interference, Robert had had little personal interaction with Faison thus far. So he wasn't quite sure whether Faison knew something or whether he was making a sloppy attempt at baiting him. Regardless, it wasn't hard to maintain a stone expression.
"Right now, I would like to use your phone to call Anna to tell her why I can't join her at Delafield's tonight."
"Be my guest," Robert said.
Faison sat on the side of Robert's desk to dial, because the little annoyances were apparently worth piling up. And Robert watched keenly as Faison called Delafield's and discovered that Anna hadn't shown up. And then realized that she was never going to show up in the first place.
"I see," Faison said emphatically to the voice on the other end, the pieces now falling into place. He turned back to Robert, smirking with devilish realization of being fooled. "No. No message."
Faison continued to watch Robert's all-too-innocent expression as he returned the phone to the cradle. It wasn't difficult to figure out, but the fact that Faison was surprised by it did tickle Robert. And the man adopted an exasperated tone as he asked the obvious question.
"What have you done with Anna?"
Robert let the question hang in the air for a moment too long, only allowing it to be more apparent that Faison was correct. "You think I've done something with her?"
The way that the man was looking at him was different now: Robert wasn't just a petty annoyance now, he was a bug… a bug of particular interest to Faison. "I know what kind of man you are, Scorpio. And I saw how you acted when you were over at Spoon Island," he shook his head slightly, "don't insult my intelligence."
"And do you know what kind of woman she is? Anna has always done what she wants," Robert pointed out.
"Ah, but you've ensured a… permanent connection to her, haven't you? I can't imagine that doesn't aid you in your… campaign against me."
"Is that what you believe?" Robert asked, his eyes on the ceiling, Anna's breath was on his ear. You're compromised, too. He blinked her away.
Faison again left a deliberate silence before he spoke, making all his words seem heavy as they fell on Robert's ears. "You know… being the head of the agency is far different than being an agent. Of course, you wouldn't be aware, you were only interim Director of the WSB at one time?" he said, seemingly apropos of nothing.
"Your friend Sean Donely might be able to tell you, but it's a very… unique place to be, with a unique set of skills. You have to… know things about a person—a target, before they know it for themselves. And if you asked me what I saw about your thoughts and your desires… well, I might be able to surprise you…with what I know…"
Robert stared at Faison and the undisturbed tilt in his mouth, the way he spoke like a stream of consciousness. The man lied with his face. He spoke well, but he didn't reveal all that he was thinking. He was more restrained with his barbs and always seemed in control. He would throw down the gauntlet and pretend that he never had. Robert could understand why Sean found this rival impressive, beyond the grandiose psychopathy. Robert decided to leave Faison's implications unaddressed in favor of the original question, because he wasn't in it for a verbal spar.
"My daughter and her mother have taken a vacation," Robert said, emphasizing the relationships. Perhaps he was not immune to wanting to deliver petty irritations, either. Not wanting Faison to believe that he would absorb all of the Police Commissioner's time and attention, Robert moved away from his desk to sort other paperwork as they spoke. But Faison followed.
"A vacation?"
"Mmmm… yes, Anna had a sudden desire to be with Robin. An end-of-school celebration."
"Right," Faison's posture was straight, his hands in his pockets. "Robin is an outstanding child. She deserves a vacation."
Faison made sure to look Robert dead in the eyes as he spoke. The sleazeball had only sincerity in his voice, but his mouth was a thin line. Robert set his papers down. The man did seem to like Robin. But then, he had to like Robert's daughter, if he was going to get to Anna. And he likely knew that Robert would find the notion enraging. But Faison didn't give him time to think too long about it. He continued his ponderance aloud.
"And… who's with them? To make sure Anna doesn't come running home while we're having our little game of chess?" His gaze ticked to the side for a moment. "Ah, let me guess… oh, yes… the recuperating Sean Donely, of course."
He was speaking as it came to him, but he was correct in nearly everything he said. Robert had unconsciously squared his shoulders toward the man, his hands tight behind his back. "No comment."
"Oh, I understand," Faison assured him, eyes wide and nodding. "All's fair in war and love, and… this is both."
Again, it occurred to Robert that this was the first time he had spent any true amount of time alone with Cesar Faison outside of their initial meeting. He was a deeply unnerving individual. Robert reminded himself that the man was a criminal of the highest degree, with a cruelty built in to his actions that couldn't be accidental. He wasn't innocent, he wasn't awkward or simple… he wasn't even as pitiful for love as he appeared with Anna. Reading the case files, if this man thought he would lose to Robert, he would slice his throat from ear to ear and make it look like Robert had wielded the knife. Robert didn't even need to read the case files, he could sense it.
That was what stood before him now. No, Robert thought, he wasn't gonna be snowed by this…
"Good." Robert said, looking away briefly before relocking their gaze. "So long as you understand that I have the real power to detain you, in a real, uncomfortable jail cell…"
"And how long do you intend to keep me?"
Robert pretended to think. "Hmm… forty-eight hours is the customary limit."
"And of course I won't be answering any questions until I have an attorney," Faison said with an edge.
"As you wish," Robert smiled. He led Faison to the door of his office, in dismissal.
"And I doubt it will be possible to reach one tonight." Faison said as Robert opened the door.
The Police Commissioner shrugged. "Well, we're in no hurry… Bed's made. Place is more or less clean, even the lightbulb works."
Faison inclined his head at the sparse description. "Surely, you will allow me a few more necessities?"
The man crafted his requests like they were threats and there was little choice but to obey. Robert's smile faded. "Depends on what you mean by 'necessities'?"
"I like my secretary to bring a goodreading lamp, and books, and a supply of cigars and… so forth…"
Robert didn't pretend to think this time. He closed the door, shutting the department noise out. "I'll make you a deal… include your computer and you can start rewriting your novel…" It wasn't a suggestion, and Faison would know it. As it was, he smiled at Robert.
"I already have."
"Good. We have a deal. Just make sure that… Davnee bears no resemblance to Anna."
"Certainly," Faison said coldly. "I'm meticulous about keeping promises. And so is Anna." Robert didn't blink as Faison stepped into his space. "And that's why I know she didn't leave town of her own free will."
Again, Robert didn't react, but instead stepped around Faison and picked a notepad off of his desk, tossing it at Faison, who caught it easily. "Make your list."
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When Frisco burst into Robert's office, he was watching security camera footage across the way, hands folded in front of him. He glanced around when the younger agent entered. "Hey."
"Hey…?" Frisco said like a question, confused. "Where'd ya stick him?"
Robert didn't pretend not to know what Frisco was talking about, but rose from the chair with a sigh. "He's down for the night in a complimentary cell." Without looking back, he extended a hand toward the screen. Of course, Frisco saw the Spoon Island spook standing indolently within the cell. He sat in the chair that Robert had vacated, watching the man pick up the metal chair with disdain, twisting it in his grip.
"The tux, and the gloves… this is almost surreal," Frisco smirked, looking behind him at Robert.
"It will get even better when the secretary arrives to redecorate," Robert said glumly. Frisco didn't know what he meant by that, but he fixed his eyes on the guy, deciding to just be out with it.
"What the hell's going on here, Robert? Why's he in here? What's happening?" Robert barged into Delafield's when PK Sinclair showed up overdressed, and took him down to the station. Why was Sinclair even at Delafield's? The guy hadn't exactly been flitting around town before now. He stared at Robert, whose hands were clasped behind him in the customary pose, but he seemed frozen, stuck in something, a smaller piece of a portrait. He looked about a thousand years old all of the sudden. "Where're Anna and Sean?" Especially since the break-up with Katherine, Robert was rarely seen in public without his ex-wife, if he was even in town at all. And Frisco knew that Sean was in on this too.
Robert remained silent, the type of silence that bespoke something big, mounting all around them. Frisco stood up, so Robert would stop looking at the floor and would look at him.
"This guy kidnapped my wife in Paris."
He had clearly done more than that, a lot more than that, if Frisco could get any sort of read on Robert's face. It was then that it sank in… this was not a normal case. Not even a normal, bad case. The way Robert gave nothing, it spelled imminent danger for someone close to him…close to them both.
"Probably."
"And you never said where Anna's gone—does she have something to do with—"
"Anna's on vacation with Robin," Robert cut in. "And Sean.."
"Well, why—"
"It's classified," Robert said, only the slightest hint of disquiet.
Frisco balked. Robert had sent them away. And the man in the cell was the reason for that, why… Frisco couldn't guess. But if Anna, Sean, and Robin were in danger, was Felicia in any less? Felicia, who had already been taken once?
"You gotta quit doing this to me, Robert! You know what I've been through!" Frisco blasted, tired of the cryptic words. "I've asked you and I've asked you and now I'm asking you again to let me in on this!"
Robert didn't react to his loss of temper, and Frisco knew that meant that he already had decided what he was going to do—before Frisco had even walked into his office.
"You're in."
Frisco stood there for another minute, his mouth open, wondering if he had heard correctly. He had fully expected to be thrown out. After all this time, it was this easy? Frisco realized that he hadn't answered, and he didn't want Robert changing his mind or to think he was hesitating.
"Great."
Robert dropped his eyes. "You may wish you weren't." He rounded Frisco, who knew that whatever came next would be some type of revelation, and waited. "PK Sinclair is in fact, Cesar Faison."
"Faison?" He had heard it before, somewhere in the reaches of his WSB training. "Faison… that's DVX…" One more salient fact came to Frisco's mind. "He's dead!"
Robert hummed in agreement, staring again at the security. "That's what the world thinks… but it's up to little old us to prove otherwise."
Frisco trusted Robert, but there were too many holes here for a charge of this kind. Faison wasn't just DVX, he used to Head the whole organization! Men that high up couldn't just go into hiding unless even rival organizations were in on it, even the WSB. "Are you sure about this?"
Robert's shoulders hardened and then he sighed, not removing his gaze from Faison or Sinclair, or whoever… "I'll give you the bottom line later on," Robert promised, the reluctance plain in his voice. He continued carefully. "We've… got to do this in a way… that leaves no doubt in anyone's mind."
Frisco's mind was spinning as the answers began to settle. If the Head of the DVX faked his death, there was a good chance that the WSB could have been in on it, or at least some higher-ups. But then, wouldn't it be easy enough to prove it? Cover-ups always left tracks. Of course, the most obvious solution didn't involve too much digging. He shrugged behind Robert's back. "Well, get some fingerprints."
The Commissioner slumped ruefully. "Huh, he's made an idiot of me in that department already, but we'll keep on trying."
"Well, just get the fingerprints! What the hell else are ya gonna do?" Frisco said louder, mystified. How could the guy make an idiot of Robert over fingerprints? He was right here at the station!
"Eh, technically he's only being questioned…he's not arrested," Robert clarified. "I can't legally print him."
"You're dealing with red tape on this."
"Tell me about it," Robert said. "But I'm getting desperate. I don't have too many alternatives… I've gotta find out who his… who his friends are. He couldn't have stayed dead for thirteen years without serious help."
This was the guy that kidnapped Felicia in Paris, and had done whatever he did to Robert, to Anna, to Sean… Frisco leaned towards the screen, his hands pressed against the table as Faison continued to stroll around his cell, no panic and no worry visible in his posture. Frisco craned back around to face Robert.
"You desperate enough to let me go back out to that house?"
"The island's still guarded."
"There's gotta be some kind of facts out there, there's gotta be information out there that we don't know about." Frisco said, pacing a little. He was feeling that eagerness, that excitement that came of getting into a case and sorting through openings and possibilities.
Robert nodded. "Probably."
"And don't give me anything about Felicia being pregnant, I've got an idea!"
"Go on," Robert said. He had been at the case to long to feel anything that Frisco was at the moment, but Frisco knew that he wouldn't have brought him in if he didn't want to share.
"It's not foolproof, but… it's as good as we got."
Again, Robert didn't look impressed at all, but confirmed him anyway. "I'll take anything at the moment."
They were finally gonna get somewhere, Frisco thought. He would prove that he could be an asset here! He knelt again next to the monitor, unable to believe that the mystery he had been chasing, that had been barred from him, was in lock-up and waltzing around. "Look at him… he's like a little Dracula... This is gonna be fun!"
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Katherine was on the verge of a fury by the end of the night. After she and Robert had talked, she had felt so much better. But then, her impossible ex had to return to arrest Anna's date and then Frisco left her to do all of the sets on her own (she owed him, but really!), then she was forced to tell Mr. Sinclair that his date had stood him up anyway, and the worst part of all, she still wanted to know what was going on!
She concluded that out of everyone she was angry at, she had to put herself at the top of the list. She did feel that she was much closer to making peace with her breakup with Robert, she knew it in her heart that that wasn't the issue. There was something else, something that just made her unable to detach and disconnect… a stubborn curiosity that wasn't go to get her anywhere. "Why can't I just let it go?" she muttered, right before Felicia told her that she was leaving and to let her know if Decker called. "Don't worry, I'll call you," she said absentmindedly to the pregnant blonde.
But then yet another voice broke into her musings. Shep Casey.
Kate suppressed a growl as she turned to see the reporter staring after Felicia, before laying his gaze on her.
"Well, when you're hot, you're hot," he said suggestively.
Kate smiled and pointedly ignored him, but she also thought… what the hell?
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Robert blinked slowly, tired as he watched Scott Baldwin enter Faison's cell, putting a clamp on his pacing.
"Well, Mr. Sinclair. Scott Baldwin, we finally meet." Faison didn't shake the attorney's hand, likely bad blood from their former encounters. Baldwin shook off the snub. "Looks like you could use a lawyer, huh?"
"If I did, I wouldn't hire the one whose bungle on Wyndamere put me here in the first place," Faison said, lighting his cigarillo.
"Yeah, well I uh… I can have ya out of here in a couple of minutes," Scott replied. Robert drifted closer to the screen and sat down, listening carefully.
"I don't doubt it," Faison responded. "But that would be the same as walking away from a duel."
Baldwin seemed mightily confused, but pressed on. "Yeah, sure… I uh, I wouldn't talk ya out of that…"
"No, but you're here to talk me out of something else, I'm sure."
"My client wants you to vacate Spoon Island immediately." Faison puffed smoke in his face. "If you do that, everything will be fine in the morning."
Faison let out a long breath. "Oh, I see… but I have no intention to leave Port Charles just yet."
"Well what are we talkin' about? Days, weeks, what?"
"I have reason to stay here indefinitely."
"I'll just bet you do," Robert muttered, not quite as bored as he wished he was. He felt certain that Faison knew he was listening to this conversation.
"Well, I'll tell ya what, I'll make ya a deal… I'll find you another house." Scott was forced to sidestep as Faison strode forward, one hand in his pocket.
"Comparable to Wyndamere, subject to my approval of course?"
"Of course!"
"In that case, I would need a couple of days to get my affairs in order to leave Wyndamere."
"What is he playing at?" Robert pursed his lips, waiting for what came next. Scott looked similarly surprised.
"Well, sure, no problem then…"
"And one more thing, Mr. Baldwin. I would like an estate in the northeast section of town…"
Of course, Robert's jaw clenched.
"I visited Anna Lavery there once and I found it… most appealing."
Scott hesitated a moment, and then smirked. "Oh. I see how you got on the Commissioner's bad side now… a duel, huh?"
Robert had his hands on either side of the chair, for some reason wanting to come to his feet at the words. He wasn't sure how he expected Faison to respond, but Faison only continued to smile a little, raising his eyebrows briefly that Robert could see.
"Well, that's your business, I suppose. I just wouldn't test the guy, he has a special rulebook for friends and family, explains why you're here. So much for justice…" Scott's whining was grating on a good day, but now it was downright obnoxious.
"You suppose right, Mr. Baldwin." Faison said softly. "And I daresay that we all operate by a special rulebook when it comes to those we love, I have witnessed many such examples in my life."
"Yeah?" Scott had lost most interest, having expected Faison to take up the bait and insult Robert… but this was far more layered than that.
"Yes, one comes to mind specifically…" he let that tantalizing phrase hang in the air before he dropped, "but, that is a story for another day, I fear. Draw up whatever materials you need and I will take a look at them. Good night, Mr. Baldwin."
He dismissed him with the same arrogant disdain that he treated them all with… People didn't know how to react to Faison's demeanor and Scott wasn't much of an exception.
"Sure, good night to ya." With a salute, the scuzzy lawyer departed and Faison resumed his meander around the cell, waiting. Robert knew what for, and this time he didn't allow himself to look away, thinking… thinking about Anna.
He shouldn't, he knew. It was unwise, dangerous, and it would be more trouble than it was worth if it wasn't worth so much to Robert. Anna had a hold on him like nothing else he had ever known… he had made decisions that went against his very make-up, just to spare her life—to never live in a world without her. Then after all that, she had his child and further cemented that grip, for years without him even knowing how far he would be gone for Anna and the daughter she brought into the world for them both.
And this… this creature was obsessed with her.. and he spoke of her with such familiarity that he had no right to. And Robert had to do something before Anna returned, or he would have to watch as Anna leapt into the flames.
What would happen to her?
Robert paced, his fists clenching and unclenching. Faison's little man, Jacques, came not too long after, with some cronies and they immediately set about in redecorating Faison's cell until it no longer resembled one. The whole thing was rather comical, in a humorless sort of way. Once the furniture was in, only Faison and Jacques remained, settling the computer in as agreed.
"Now, let's hope my little computer is working properly," Faison said, putting his keyboard in place.
"No reason why it shouldn't," his assistant assured him, still poking through items. And then he turned around, his indignation even coming across through the screen. "And there's certainly no reason why you should be in here."
"Oh Jacques," Faison waved him off easily. "There's a reason for everything." He rubbed his gloved hands together purposefully and then began to tap the keys in front of him.
Robert leaned over closely to the monitor and then sat, watching intently. "What's he typing?" There's was no way he'd be able to see from this vantage point, but his suspicions were confirmed when Jacques came closer and read the display. After a pause, Faison's assistant jolted back into action.
"Oh! I nearly forgot! The most important thing of all." He produced what looked to be a poster. "Voila!"
Faison picked it up delicately and Robert realized what it was… the cover of Faison's last novel… Anna's face front and center. Faison put it on top of a cabinet, in clear sight of the camera. Robert no longer believed that a damn thing that Faison did was accidental.
"There."
"So, you'll be alright?"
"Now… yes. I'll be just fine."
"Goodbye, Cesar." Jacques departed, the clinking of the door echoing, and Faison strode forward, cigarillo still lit. He stood in front of the camera, Anna's face in relief behind him. He blew smoke toward where he knew Robert was watching him, and made sure to obscure nothing.
A/N: Rather long one, hope you enjoyed! I briefly covered Frisco in this chapter and he'll be more in it, but I'm NOT covering his "undercover" mission to Wyndamere. I never liked his disguise much, even if it was played for laughs. Just imagine he did something smoother and more discreet in my version of events lol. Let me know what you thought!
