A/N: Finally! I wanted to get to a certain point in this chapter and it wasn't cooperating with me. But I'm almost glad, because I think it would have been a bit rushed. Thanks to wicked jade (yeah, in this chapter you will begin to see where I'm taking this—this story will emphasize a part of the storyline that wasn't really focused on), saint2sinner (I won't sacrifice Kate! I'm only sacrificing the relationship of Kate/Robert haha), sammy11357 (you're very welcome), 4gcrazyme (I'm rooting for Shep/Kate in this story, but we'll see!), Sassydew (Anna and Robert will be heating up soon, she just has to get back!), Bostie (I LOVED writing the Anna/Sean conversation, so I'm very glad you enjoyed it! Sean's place in this storyline should have gotten more attention, in my opinion), HavenSM (very high praise, thank you so much! The character relationships are the strongest part of this storyline and I'm doing my best to honor that). You guys are awesome!

Chapter 18:

"Well, that's it then: my life and times in a nutshell," Kate said breezily as she led Cassandra Clark out of the penthouse elevator. She glanced over to see the other blonde examining her notes. "Hope you have enough for your article."

"I have enough for two articles!" Cassandra declared, sounding reasonably pleased.

Kate laughed softly, flipping through her reservation book as the wandered into the dining room. "Well, once I get started, I do tend to go on a bit…"

"Oh, you're an interviewer's dream. The Woman of the 90s creates the Club for the 90s!"

Kate looked up at that bit of flattery with a small smile.

"How's that sound?"

"Like nobody I know."

"Don't be modest," the reporter warned.

"Well, let's just say I'm certainly having fun."

"That's it." Cassandra clicked her pen, looking around them. "Kate Delafield is having fun!" Her laugh was too loud. "That could be the key to the successful woman of the 90s! The 80s were about money and power, the 70s—well, who can remember the 70s?"

Something about her demeanor left Katherine feeling uneasy and as a result, her sincerity melted away as she forced a smile and bent to arrange a nearby table setting. And sure enough, the answer came right then.

"Speaking of having fun, how do you do it all and still have a …satisfying love life?"

Really. Kate was almost insulted by the transparency of the question, because she would have hoped that Cassandra would veil her intentions further, given Kate's ample experience with press. It was fishing worthy of a gossip columnist, and Cassandra was a glorified one, Kate decided.

"Oh my dear, you certainly are behind the times…"

"Well, by all means, catch me up!" The woman was not to be deterred. At Kate's silence, she put on an innocent expression. "I promise, I would never quote you without your permission!"

Kate stared at her. Did the woman believe she was born yesterday? "Oh, no, no, no, I'm sure that you wouldn't… um, I think what we need to do is we need to lay some ground rules here. Because I have no intention of allowing this article to become an expose on my personal life."

Ms. Clark was already gasping in shock but Kate kept her gaze locked, so the woman would know that she understood her motivation and wasn't about to put up with it.

"Us 90s women …we can be like that, you know."

Angel interrupted them with a question from the chef and Kate leaned toward the reporter. "If you'd like to continue this interview with our new ground rules, I'd be happy to. But for right now, I have to see a man about a lobster. Would you excuse me?"

The woman (or gossipy shark, whichever you'd rather) was predictably waiting when Kate returned after much longer than necessary. "Oh, I'm sorry to keep you waiting…"

"Oh, no, it's me that should apologize," Cassandra answered, hand on her heart as she approached. "I'm sorry if I hit a nerve when I alluded to Commissioner Scorpio…"

"My nerves are intact," Kate parried, wondering if the woman was truly going to be as brazen as Kate was beginning to anticipate.

The other blonde glanced up at Kate underneath lowered eyes. "But the engagement is off?"

"The fact is, that Robert and I are in different places right now and my top priority is this club."

Cassandra smirked before opening her mouth again. "And his?"

Wow. Kate simply walked past her dismissively now, a mix of disbelief and the beginnings of anger. "I don't know. I don't speak for him."

"Well, that does shed a new light on those rumors…"

She took the bait, only because information was power and because she was deadly curious as to the insinuation, and didn't care if Cassandra knew it. "What rumors?"

"Well, during the 'alien' scare," Ms. Clark started delicately. "The reportsabout the Commissioner's involvement with his ex-wife…"

Kate, of course, had guessed what 'rumors' Cassandra would be talking about, but she needed it confirmed. The newspapers and the media didn't know that they were correct. They didn't know that those truths had haunted Katherine even before that. They didn't know anything.

"Cassandra, you surprise me!" Kate announced condescendingly. "You know, I didn't think you'd be one to traffic in such old, stale news…"

Cassandra put her hand more firmly on her hip. "Well, maybe not as stale as you may think. Something is distracting our Police Commissioner. I mean, obviously he doesn't have time for you or for crime in Port Charles!"

"Check your notes, Cassandra, I think I've made it quite plain." She didn't raise her voice too much, but the effect was there. "The Commissioner and I. Have our own priorities right now."

"Well his clearly isn't crime in the streets," Cassandra needled further as Kate moved toward the entrance. "I mean, he's too busy hounding P.K. Sinclair!"

Kate sighed with theatrical boredom. "Oh, yeah, I suppose since you already have all the answers …I think that this interview is over."

Cassandra put up her innocent act again. "I—I'm sorry, I've offended you…"

Kate shook her head resolutely. "Not at all," she said gracefully. "It's just that I have a limited amount of time for …drivel."

"You may call it 'drivel', but I call it 'a story' and I intend to keep pursuing it."

Kate crossed her arms. "Fine. I suggest you pursue it somewhere else."

Unbelievable, was all she thought as the woman removed herself from her club. But there was only one thing to do, the only right thing to do. Kate headed for the police station.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

REPHRASE QUESTION

"What does this mean? W—what is this?" Frisco said, knocking the side of the computer with a sheaf of papers.

"It means we can ask it until we're blue in the face, but we're not gonna get a satisfactory answer," Robert replied. He'd been watching Frisco absorb all the frustration of this case with a resigned pessimism. Robert knew already, in his heart, that none of the regular channels were going to work this time.

"Why would the Bureau erase Klaus Freidlander's file?"

Robert shook his head. "Beats the hell outta me." The closer Anna and Robin's return came upon them, the more he was unable to think about anything else. He stared at the words blankly.

REPHRASE QUESTION

What channels would he be prepared to use in order to fight this man? He was going to have to think critically about it, and soon.

"Maybe a virus in the computer, something convenient like that?" Frisco straightened and sighed.

"Probably put there by Faison."

Sam swept into his office, holding speaking notes. "Excuse me, Commissioner?"

"What?"

"We're being hounded by the press and I need your advice. They, and several concerned citizens want to know what we're going to do about the recent stabbings down at the docks."

"And what I'm doing about the current crime wave in Port Charles. Aren't you glad you're just Deputy Chief?"

"Sir, I need some answers," Sam said with a tinge of desperation, not having patience with Robert's wit today. She didn't know what he was using it to hide.

"This isn't really a convenient time."

"Listen, Robert, I'll work on the computer a bit and see what I can come up with if you wanna do a little PR?" Frisco rescued his old partner. Robert gave him a small glare and got to his feet, having no choice but to deal with Sam's administrative problems.

"Listen, round up some divvy heads. Um, we'll meet in the conference room in five minutes."

Sam nodded. "Thank you, sir."

Almost an hour later, and it was no wonder that she was thanking him. It was nightmare piled on nightmare: every crook in Port Charles was coming out of the woodwork suddenly, the press was hounding about Colton's stabbing, and he knew what else was being printed about him …and he also knew that the rest of the Department knew about it too.

If the looks weren't enough, someone was actually bold enough to ask: "Sir, do you want us to release a statement in relation to the other press remarks?"

"If you're referring to that tripe regarding Mr. P.K. Sinclair, then the answer is 'no'." Robert said hotly. "This Department will not give credence or attention to what amounts to a sentence or two of fodder in a gossip rag. We address only that which relates to our business. Does everyone get me?"

Most of them nodded in agreement, relieved for now that the question was addressed directly. "But sir, as you held Mr. Sinclair in lock-up, wouldn't that—"

"Mr. Sinclair is well and home at Spoon Island, last I checked, or do you have other information?" The officer was shut down so abruptly that no one else added their voice, though Robert was certain there were others that agreed. "We have enough problems without raising skeletons. If there's nothing else, we go about doing our real jobs now."

Why did it feel like everything in his life was going wrong at once? His personal life being a wreck was an ongoing problem, but now his job and reputation found themselves back on the chopping block.

Robert didn't know how he was doing it, any more than he knew how he had done everything else, but it did have something to do with Faison. Back in his office, Frisco tried to cheer him up and Robert did genuinely appreciate his presence. Having him here while Anna and Sean were out of town had been invaluable.

"Listen, I'm getting my second wind, huh? Let's—let's get after it again."

"Why don't you go home and use that on your wife?" Robert said, eyes on the papers on his desk.

"Are you sure?"

"Well, just because I don't have a social life doesn't mean to say you have to follow suit."

Kate poked her head in without knocking, ironically, of course. "Is this a bad time?"

He lifted his palms as he got up and moved toward her, a little intrigued. "Fine."

"Sure I'm not interrupting anything?"

"No, nothing."

"Good, because I need to talk to you, it's very important." She was all business today.

They both glanced at Frisco, who dropped his mug on Robert's desk. "Well, let me uh… I'm gonna…" he gestured toward the door.

Kate nodded. "I'll see ya at the club."

Robert pointed to the chair. "So, uh have a seat."

Kate declined politely. "No thanks, I won't be here very long …but you can sit d—"

Robert shook his head. "No, no, I'm fine!"

Kate squinted as she appraised him. "Are you really—I mean, forget it, I'm not gonna ask!" She gripped her clutch in front of her. "Thank you for seeing me."

Well, she had kind of just made her way into his office, so he didn't see how it was a gracious move on his part, but he let it go. "Well, what's up, is there a problem?"

"No," she answered. "No, but you do. And that's what I'm here to talk to you about."

Great, a new problem? He truly couldn't think of anything that Kate could tell him that would qualify as a 'problem'. Still, he sucked it up and gave her a grin. "Maybe I should sit down. So …what's my problem?"

"A reporter named Cassandra. She's gunning for you."

Her face was the picture of poise, and Robert well knew that Katherine was no slouch in the PR department. Her information, however, wasn't entirely new (given the problems that Sam was bringing to his attention), nor was the name. That one had had it out for him since Spock, but apparently she was announcing her intentions to his former fiancée. Foolish move.

Kate read his expression. "Well then I'll assume you know this lady?"

"Well, I wouldn't …actually call her a 'lady'," he said in answer.

She walked around the chair and faced him. "Well, you'll be glad to hear that I stopped her in her tracks today."

He kept his face blank, wondering why she had even bothered, but tentatively grateful for it. "Really?"

"Yes, she was doing some really nasty speculating about you. Throwing innuendos around about how you're doing your job, or not doing your job, which is what she is accusing you of …bringing up your involvement with Anna."

His head jerked up at that. "What?"

Kate blinked. "She brought up the 'alien scare' and Anna being on the run. I told her it was old news, but she didn't seem to think so."

"That's all she has?"

"That's all she told me, but I would imagine there's a reason it's coming up again." Kate prodded her lip, pretending to think. "I'm sure it has nothing to do with you arresting a man who was supposed to spend an evening with Anna, and holding him for 48 hours while she is mysteriously out of town?"

"I'm sure…" Robert said with an inscrutable smirk. He rubbed his neck and got up again, now that he had received the message and survived. "Thank you for getting her out of my face, but …you didn't have to come all the way over here to do that." He picked up the phone next to them, holding it up to her face. "You could have picked up the phone…"

"No, don't do that."

"What?"

"Don't start changing the subject," Kate said, shoving the phone in his hand back down more firmly than he expected. "You think this is a time for jokes? What is wrong with you, Robert?"

"What's—" He gaped, startled out of his own game by her abrupt change in mood and he not knowing what to expect from her. And maybe he was tired of having to predict what people did anyway… "I don't know, Kate! Maybe, just maybe, I have quite a lot on my plate at the moment!"

"Or someone," Kate said caustically, but again she retreated before Robert could open his mouth. "Forget it, it has nothing to do with why I'm here. But the point is that I resent having to run interference for you here! So get your act together and get your priorities straight!"

She was mad, but he could hear it; the concern was still there in her tone. He would have welcomed any levity at this point, but concern was enough to make him relax. Maybe, in some not-so-distance future, they could be friends? Among everything else, that was a small light of hope.

He nodded at the floor. "Alright. My first priority," he held up a finger, "will be to review your speeding tickets… The Department needs a new coffee machine."

She rolled her eyes a little and reached around him to retrieve her clutch. "You can make jokes any time, Commissioner. But this time it's your reputation at stake, not mine! I did the best I could to help you and if you don't appreciate it, I shouldn't have even bothered. Sorry!"

He was peppering her little speech with "you're right" and gave her the timeout sign.

"You're right," he said once more. "And I owe you one." He did feel a rush of gratitude for her, in spite of their current condition. She might have caught on to it, because she took a step backward and looked slightly uncomfortable. Her next question stunned him.

"How is Anna?"

"How…" he frowned, which only irritated her again.

"We are friends, Robert!"

"Well, yeah …but—"

"But nothing," Kate said. "I mean, there shouldn't be a 'but'…"

"I shouldn't have said that," Robert said apologetically. "Anna is…"

Terrified. Cornered. Anxious. Frustrating. Lovely. Incomparable.

"…sorry about everything."

There were too many ways to interpret that remark, and Kate seemed to just take it in without clarification. "She isn't the only one," she said finally. "I think we've all…"

"Yeah."

She moved to the door, but her eyes rose again to Robert's. "That reporter wasn't kidding around. Don't let her get the better of you."

Then she was gone.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

"Scorpio Ignores Crime Wave to Harass Famous Author. Why?"

The headline was emblazoned in the paper the next day. And boy, it was all that it promised and more. Robert stared at it, his head aching.

You two were my best agents and I needed you...

I had to give her back. I had to give her to Faison.

I'm sorry, Robert, I don't know what it is to love a woman…

Last night, Sean said "sorry" as Faison wrapped a noose around Anna's white, fragile neck. Robert woke up screaming about the Swede, offering him up once more. He had betrayed his old comrade a dozen times now, without hesitation. The whole thing nauseated him.

He read the article over a few times, each more thoroughly than the last. For the past week, there had been little remarks in this article or that, regarding the police force. This work was on an entirely different scale. Kate had only gotten a cursory mention—meaning that she had effectively stymied the tabloid reporter, but also that Ms. Clark hadn't really needed her material anyway. Their broken engagement was the mention—and Cassandra made sure to insinuate that it was broken off because of Robert's obsessive infatuation with his ex-wife.

In fact, according to this harpy: all of Port Charles crime problems were stemming from Robert's obsession with Anna. He was a bullying tyrant who forced her to leave town with their daughter and then threw her suitor in jail because he was unable to contain his jealousy.

Well, it was apparent that Ms. Clark had never met Anna in her life, if she thought that Robert ran the show when it came to the mother of his child. He would have smiled at the absurdity of the picture she presented weren't quite so terrible—him as a pining, jealous, controlling, unprofessional lout who refused to let go of a woman who didn't want him. This was Faison's handiwork; his fingerprints were all over it, though they were on nothing else.

He wanted very much not to think about this at all, but he had already run out of time. Anna and Robin would be home later today, and what had Robert accomplished?

Dead men, a suggestive expose, a crime wave…

This was a nightmare from which he could not wake.

And yet, he still had to go about his day. Thankfully, most of his friends didn't read The National Inquisitor and had no idea as to the smears against him, as Felicia demonstrated when he met her at the gym to investigate the stabbings and he shoved the paper in her face as an explanation of his bad mood.

"Frisco's been watching him," Felicia said, aware that they would both know who "him" was. "Maybe he can tell you something about this."

It was bait that he didn't need, but Robert couldn't stop himself from dialing Frisco anyway.

"Hey Robert…"

Robert sighed, hearing in Frisco's tone that he was feeling sorrier for him than he did yesterday, which could only mean one thing. "I didn't think you were a consumer of that kind of garbage, Frisco."

"Believe me, I'm not. But it's kind of hard-to-miss when everybody's been walking by with a copy of it. I've even been accused of knowing you, if you can believe that!"

"Where are you now?" Robert said, not wishing to address the article further. He was sure he'd get his fill before long. "Tracking Faison?"

"He's at Delafield's. He's been out and about since this Cassandra Clark took out her pen, you'd think he had something to do with it."

"Continue to hang back," Robert instructed. "I'm going in."

"Whatever you say," Frisco responded. "Just don't—I don't know… don't lose your mind over there, alright?"

He hung up without answering.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

Kate's stomach plummeted when she read the article. Her hands shook as she scanned the paper Angel had ruefully handed her, fury rising with every single word. It took her a moment to realize that Bobbie and Tony were standing in front of her, but she looked up, Bobbie balked.

"What's happened?" she asked, eyes wide. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you look upset."

"I…" Kate certainly didn't want to point any of her friends in the direction of this printed trash. She pushed the corners of her lips up in a smile. "Just a little disappointment, nothing to worry about! Can I seat you two?"

"We're supposed to meet Frisco in his dressing room and 'hang out'?" Tony said.

"Well …he's not here yet," Kate said apologetically.

"Huh, well I suppose he's running late," Bobbie looked up at Tony. "What do you want to do?"

"Why don't you come and wait at the bar?" Angel interjected pleasantly. "I got a new cocktail that'll knock your socks off!"

Kate shot Angel a grateful look as Bobbie and Tony followed after him. He must have sensed that Kate was out of sorts. He had probably read it already…

She should have been hostessing, but it was early enough to ask one of the waiters to seat people and take a moment in the back. She read it again, carefully this time. Halfway through, she was ready to stop, out of sheer disgust.

The whole tone of the article just seemed so personal, more so than Kate had ever seen coming from a tabloid. Why was there such an axe to grind against Robert? That was her last objective thought, as she read the characterization of Robert's relationships with her and with Anna.

She got more than a pang of offense as she read herself as nothing more than a footnote in Robert's life, compared to his possessive rampage against any man who was interested in Anna. Even Duke, Anna's deceased husband, wasn't saved from the woman's spew!

After Kate finished reading, she looked vacantly into her dressing room mirror, trying to feel nothing.

This is just some trashy reporter, she doesn't know anything. This was a hateful attack against Robert, and that's all it was…

Closing her eyes, she felt a few tears leak out and stifled it. Nobody who mattered would believe this article; that didn't mean it wasn't agonizing to see it in print. Even the kernel of truth that was there, burrowed into her brain and made its home. She was trying so hard to make peace with all of this and she kept running into obstacles, refusing to let her move on.

"That's enough with the self-pity," she decided aloud, brushing her dress straight. "I have better things to do."

She wasn't going to give Cassandra Clark the satisfaction.

Robert walked in not long after she had returned to the front, his face black with rage.

"Before you say anything, I did not have anything to do with this reporter putting this garbage in the paper!" Kate prefaced, holding it up to him. She was sure that was what accounted for the murderous expression.

But he was surprised by her plea. "I didn't think you did."

"You're angry though."

"I am, but not at you." He glanced sideways and appeared to have found his target. "There's the object of my attention there."

P.K. Sinclair was at the bar (she hadn't even seen him arrive!), presumably ordering a drink. "Robert!" Kate tried to call him back.

He was already striding over, lifting his arm away from her attempt to catch it. "Boy, we're really getting around these days, aren't we?" he said loudly, drawing a few glances, but not enough action to keep them interested. Kate sighed inwardly.

The famous writer turned around smoothly and set his eyes on Robert. "I don't think there are any laws against that."

"If there was, I'd find one."

"Yeah, I'm sure you would, but I can go wherever I please, Scorpio." He nodded goadingly at him.

"Good, then why don't you crawl back under your rock…" Robert smiled, his lips tight.

Kate watched as Mr. Sinclair didn't even blink his steady gaze. "Well, I might remind you that you are the one that lifted the rock, as you so cautiously put it?"

What did any of this mean? If Robert was hot about the newspaper article, had the author been Cassandra's source? It was certainly possible, she supposed. The cat-and-mouse game between them was apparent, but Kate somehow knew that they were both wanting to take it up several notches further. Yet, something must have been preventing them…

"Well I'm more than happy to help you …get back under it again," Robert said deliberately. She couldn't see his face, but she knew the cold menace of his tone. She wasn't sure if she had ever heard his voice so full of hatred, or maybe it was something uniquely reserved for this man.

Sinclair's head tilted, before he said softly, "don't push me, Scorpio."

Kate saw Robert tense to move and she shifted to the side, but between them firmly. "Uh listen, uh gentlemen, I think we should …not have any of this in here, please?" She was looking solely at Sinclair, making it clear where her loyalties lie.

"Don't worry about it …Miss Delafield? I was on my way out anyway." His emphasis was surely a dig at their relationship, but it was too subtle to ever be considered rude by an onlooker. He returned to staring at Robert. "We'll continue our discussion some other time, I'm sure."

"Count on it," Robert snapped at the man's already-retreating back.

Kate thought that once the famous writer had made his exit, Robert would have calmed down. He didn't.

He strode over to the bar and slammed his hand down on the surface, again drawing some startled looks. "Robert," Kate lunged for his arm and pulled him away from her customers. "Not here."

"Then where?" Robert snarled. "I could use a drink."

"Uh, no, I don't think so," Kate said, hauling him towards her dressing room. He didn't resist, but when she closed the door behind them, he had a forlorn look on his face. She sighed, because this was too much drama. "What now?"

"Last time I was here, was the night you broke up with me…"

"Oh," Kate said. She hadn't expected him to actually give her an answer to her question, and it threw her off for a moment. He probably did need a drink.

"It feels like," he cleared his throat, "feels like a long time ago…"

It didn't really feel that long ago for her. For Kate, it still felt like a matter of days, and she didn't know why, but his admission hurt her. "You wanted to kill P.K. Sinclair that night too, if I'm remembering right."

Right after she said that, she caught a heartbreaking glimpse of the walls falling from his expression. He looked tired, and utterly defeated. And there was something else she saw that she couldn't name at all. "Can't you just give me a hint as to why you hate this man so much? Anything that could make me understand why so many things changed?"

She was under no expectation of an answer. And he was silent for longer than she thought she could have tolerated, as seconds ticked by and the sounds from the dining room echoed.

"You were right."

"Excuse me?" Kate said.

"The guy wrecked my marriage to Anna. Thirteen years ago. And I hate him."

Kate stared at him, could see plainly that he was telling the truth, but it wasn't the whole truth. She just wondered if it was the first time that he admitted that part of it to himself.

Then the door clicked open and Frisco poked his head in. "Uh, is this a bad time?"

Kate didn't know what to say, but Robert shook his head. "No, of course not. I need to head to Anna's, their flight got in not too long ago."

"You okay?" Frisco asked Robert, and there was something in the way that he asked that made Kate suspect that he knew something that Kate didn't. But Robert was already distracted from their concern, and rubbing his forehead he stormed out with nary a goodbye.

Frisco then looked to her. "Are you okay?"

Kate shrugged helplessly, not ready to quantify what had just happened. "Ask me another time."

A/N: Anna is back next chapter! I wanted her back this one, but it wasn't working out. And Robert had a no-good-very-bad day without her. You might have guessed, but the media angle of this story is being played up for …reasons, which will be revealed shortly.