-7-

The following morning, Layla was awoken by the sound of the phone ringing. Groaning, she reached over and grabbed the phone and pressed it to her ear, not bothering to wake up, "Hello?"

"Good morning, sunshine!"

Layla sighed heavily, annoyance thick in her voice, "Mark, what the hell do you want?"

Marcus Travis laughed softly, "Now is that anyway to speak to a former bed buddy?"

Layla sat up, sighing, "One night of drunk sex hardly qualifies you as a bed buddy, Mark. Besides, I didn't even know your name."

"Oh, but you let me go down on you multiple times," he pointed out, amusement in his voice.

Running a hand through her mane of curls, she shrugged as she held the phone to her ear with her shoulder, "Yeah, well, I'm easy. Sue me."

Travis laughed, "Glad you said that and not me. There is a point to this call."

"Oh wow," Layla said sarcastically, "you mean you didn't call just to harass me?"

"No," he responded, his voice suddenly serious, "did you meet your parents?"

She nodded quietly, drawing her knees up to her chest, "Yeah," she answered softly, "I met them last night."

Marcus sat back in his chair in his office, his feet propped up onto his desk, "What are they like?"

"Complete opposites of each other. She's very refined, sophisticated, cultured. He's eccentric, rough around the edges, I have the feeling that he was quite the bad boy in his day."

"You like the bad boys," he pointed out.

"Ugh," Layla said, disgust in her voice, "Marcus, he's my father. I don't need that image in my head." She sighed as she flopped back down onto the pillows and turned onto her side, "How are things out there in the City of Angels?"

"Demonic," Travis responded dryly. "I'm actually glad you weren't around last night. A seven year old girl was brought in with a broken leg, courtesy of Mommie Dearest."

The woman sighed heavily and shook her head, "Some people just need to be sterilized."

"Agreed," he said and then grinned, despite the fact that she couldn't see it, "your porn star was here last night looking for you."

Layla's ears perked. "Really?" It was not common knowledge that she had recently begun to date a man who was an actor in the adult entertainment industry. Having met him during a wild weekend with the girls in Las Vegas, the vivacious doctor convinced the former Chippendale to come to Los Angeles and try his hand, so to speak, at porn. Twelve direct to DVD movies later, the two were closer than ever. "How is my own personal Mr. Big?"

Marcus winced, "TMI, Lay. He's fine, asked about you. Told him you were out in New York on a seminar and wouldn't be back for a few weeks."

"Hey, listen," she said, "they want me to go to Port Charles with them. So I may be gone for a few more weeks. Think you can square it with Thatcher?"

Travis sighed, "What makes you think I have that kind of clout?"

Grinning, Layla responded, "Because I know that you are her Mr. Big."

Marcus groaned loudly, "Fine, fine, but enough with the 'Sex and the City' jokes. I'll speak with Thatcher when I see her."

"I owe you," she said and then glanced at the clock, "I should go. I need to shower and get to that seminar and then I'm meeting Luke and Tracy."

Her friend sat up and then smiled softly, "Have a blast in PC. Let me know how it goes."

"Oh believe me, I will," Layla promised. "I just may call you in hysterics a few nights."

"I won't answer," he said, adding with a grin, "I'll be too busy living up to my nickname as Mr. Big." That said, Marcus hung up the phone before Layla could respond.

Laughing, she hung the receiver up and went to shower.

"No, Dillon, Luke and I are not getting a divorce and I'm not coming back to Port Charles by myself."

Tracy sighed as she ran a hand through her auburn hair and glanced up as her husband came into the room from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. "Listen, you can tell Daddy that just for that, I'm never divorcing Luke and I'm going to insist that Luke stay for every holiday meal, simply to torture him."

Luke winced at the thought of spending every holiday with the Quartermaines and then sighed as he grabbed a piece of toast and popped it into his mouth. Glancing at his wife, made a goofy face at her and blew her a kiss, knowing it'd break her concentration.

Catching the look, Tracy gave him a smirk, "Listen, we'll be in Port Charles this afternoon. Tell everybody that I want them there when we get back, we have an announcement to make. I love you, I'll see you later." Without further preamble, she hung up the phone and looked at her husband. "You need to get dressed."

"Easy, wife, easy. We've got time."

"Luke, I'm anxious to get out of this hotel room." Tracy pointed out.

"And it will only take me ten minutes to throw on some jeans and a shirt. Chill out, Tracy," Luke responded, handing her a glass of orange juice.

Sighing softly, Tracy took a healthy drink of it and then set the glass down. "How do we break the news?"

"Gently," Luke answered, sitting down next to her. "Laura really has no room to talk. We aren't married and she's back with," he paused and made a face, "Baldwin. Eddie will probably pop the vein in his forehead, Ned will have a conniption fit, Lulu will go into dramatic 12 year old girl mode and think it's all about her and Lucky will just get angry and think it's one more thing I kept from him."

"But you didn't know," Tracy pointed out.

"Won't matter. When he found out about the rape, he got so angry with Laura and I he didn't speak to either of us for months."

She sighed heavily and rubbed her forehead. "I can understand him being angry with you, but not with Laura."

"Laura stayed with me despite it all," he pointed out. Shaking his head, he leaned over and kissed her cheek, "I don't want to rehash this all again."

"No," Tracy agreed, "Nor do I. It's your past and it will stay as such."

"I appreciate that," Luke remarked. Glancing at the clock, he leaned down and kissed her cheek, "I'm going to get dressed now, Spanky Buns."

Tracy nodded as she watched him head into the bathroom. Standing up, she began to pack their bags, calling out to him, "Don't forget, we need to find something to do this afternoon. Layla has her seminar and won't be able to leave till after two."

"We'll figure something out," he called back to her. "Maybe we can hit SoHo or something."

"SoHo??" Tracy sighed, "Luke, SoHo is full of bohemians."

"So?" Luke asked, coming out of the bathroom, buckling his belt. "It's neat over there. Lots of culture."

"And muggings too, I bet."

Her husband rolled his eyes, "Don't worry your pretty little head, Spanky, I'll protect you."

Tracy went over to him, dramatically, "My hero."

Luke laughed and wrapped an arm around her, "Just don't expect me to put on tights and a cape anytime soon."

"Oh well, damn," Tracy said, walking away from him and grabbing her purse, "that was a kink of mine that I wanted to introduce one night soon."

Laughing some more, he escorted his wife out of the room.