They were now well into their second bottle. So much for avoiding a hang-over. Anna was feeling very warm, and very, very content. Yet she was surprised when she broke out in a real, honest-to-god laugh at something Robert said.
"You know," she turned momentarily serious and confessed, "I think part of me feels guilty for feeling happy." She was leaned over the table, obviously comfortable and relaxed. "So many horrible and ridiculous things have happened I feel like I should be in a state of perpetual mourning. Robin, Duke, Faison, Obrecht, you in your coma. I feel like it's wrong to forget."
Robert had a dreamy smile on his lips, his eyes half closed with pleasure. "You have to think about it differently. According to my friend Jean-Paul Sartre, JP for short, one can respond in the face of absurdity with either laughter or nausea. How about we laugh tonight and leave the other bit 'til tomorrow morning? May I fill your glass again?"
Anna sat up with a bit of a wobble and stared at him. "Jean-Paul Sartre. I didn't think you read anyone, except maybe Ian Fleming."
Robert, somewhat clumsily, was pouring more champagne for both of them. He was also shaking his head. "Now why on earth would I read his books when high-quality films have been made of every one of Mr. Fleming's masterpieces?"
Anna puckered her lips and frowned. "Robert, the Bond books are silly and sexist enough, but the films—good god. The novels at least are more complex, and are certainly interesting as cultural products of the cold war . . ."
Robert laughed as he put down the champagne bottle. "Okay, okay—that's the right answer. But admit it: you'd rather watch thirty seconds of Daniel Craig rising half-naked from the ocean than appreciate the complexity of Mr. Fleming's endless descriptions of the game of baccarat and how the act of stirring bruises vodka."
Anna's expression turned affectionate and proud. "Oh, Robert, you have read the books. That's sweet, and very literary of you." She grabbed her glass just slightly inelegantly. "And I have to admit you've got me there: damn straight I'd rather watch a good-looking man rising up from the sea than sit alone in a chair reading about spies and villains you'd think were so over-the-top they couldn't be real, but actually, from the experience our lives, seem pretty tame." As soon as she'd finished speaking, a sudden, clear vision of another man, another ocean, another time, rose up before her and she felt her face flush. As if to cover, she smiled too broadly, laughed a bit too loudly, and gulped down her entire drink.
Robert laughed too, followed her example, carefully replaced his own glass on the table, and then took hers and did the same. "Now I think it's time we got up and did some moving, Devane. You mentioned something earlier about dancing on the table and hooting and hollering. Let's the two of us start on the dance floor and see what the night brings."
He got up, moved just a tiny bit unsteadily to her side, gave a little bow, and lifted her to her feet. She curtsied, laughing, and they made their way to the crowded dance floor. There they assumed the position, easy and familiar despite the years. They hadn't danced since Robin's wedding, a time that had seemed full of promise and potential. Anna had been giddy with happiness then, her granddaughter safely delivered, her daughter recovered and married, and Robert officially declared cancer-free. But Robert and she had parted ways again, drawn apart by obligations and, certainly, by fear. Although the threat of death and of final, too-soon goodbyes had briefly brought them together, fear of life and old resentments had driven them back to their safely separate lives.
"Feels good," murmured Robert as they swayed, mostly in time to the music. "You were always my favorite dance partner. You seemed to know where I wanted to go, what I wanted to do."
Anna leaned her head on Robert sleepily. "Don't give me too much credit, Robert. Where you wanted to go and what you wanted to do were always pretty obvious. No one could accuse you of being subtle. Any woman who didn't pick up on either would have to be brain dead or in deep denial."
Robert lowered his head and they laughed into each other's shoulders as he twirled her around the floor.
They didn't notice the approach of midnight, too absorbed in their conversation and dancing. When the others suddenly stopped and prepared themselves for the final countdown, Robert and Anna kept moving and talking until they bumped into a man and woman staring up at the clock. "Ten, nine"—Anna smiled with sudden comprehension—"eight, seven"—Robert laughed—"six, five"—their smiles became just a bit strained as both suddenly wondered what the appropriate action might be to take—"four, three"—Robert's expression softened with sudden decision—"two, one, Happy New Year!"—he smiled and leaned in to kiss Anna gently, joyfully, on the lips. They separated for a moment. He smiled again, whispered, "Happy New Year, Luv," and kissed her once more, and longer.
He saw her home which, he explained, was the gallant thing to do. Of course the police commissioner didn't need protecting. She was packing heat. Yes, he was staying just upstairs in his suite at the Port Charles Hotel. But he could use some fresh air, and the walk to the Metro Court would do him good. Besides, they were having such a nice time. It would be a pity to cut it short. So they walked together, insulated from the cold by the champagne and by the simple pleasure of each other's company, along the waterfront past favourite haunts changed very little by the passage of time. Anna hung on his arm, almost her old self, more like the woman he had known twenty years before, before everything changed, before everything literally and figuratively had shattered.
"You keep tugging on my arm like that and you'll dislocate my shoulder," Robert joked, honestly loving the familiar weight. She laughed. "I didn't realize you were so frail, old man. I'll try to be more careful."
They reached a particularly scenic and memorable spot and stopped walking at the same time. They looked out at the water. Nothing needed to be said. They were comfortable together in their silence.
Anna was rummaging through her bag for her keys. "Damn it," she said. "I know they're in here somewhere. My eyes are a bit out of focus. Don't know why."
Robert said nothing, just waited. Finally the keys were retrieved. "Success!" Anna exclaimed, waving the keys in triumph, and turned to unlock the door. But she hesitated before opening it and turned back. "Robert," she began, "thank you. For rescuing me tonight, for saving me from myself. I appreciate it. You were right to call me out on my horrible self-indulgence. And—I had a lovely time. " He smiled again but didn't speak, looked down, and then looked back into her eyes. They stood looking at each other for a moment. Then she swayed slightly, hesitantly took a step toward him, was about to lean into him again, her face turned up for a kiss, when the door behind her suddenly swung open.
"Anna? Where have you been? I was worried."
It was Duke, waiting for her in her suite. The thought annoyed her, she realized. Anna paused, looked away, gave Robert a quick peck on the cheek, took a breath, and turned around. "I didn't think you'd be here—you made it sound as though you'd be busy all night. Happy New Year." And she kissed Duke quickly on the cheek as well.
Duke looked over her shoulder at Scorpio, obviously not happy. "Hello, Robert. Did you keep Anna company tonight? That's very generous of you." Duke smiled grimly. "I appreciate you filling in for me, but I'm free now, and I was hoping Anna and I could celebrate the New Year together. I ordered champagne."
Anna smiled, made a bit of a face, and then touched Duke's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Darling, I've already had far too much champagne. I'm completely exhausted, and I just want a quick shower and to go to sleep. Could we celebrate another time?" Anna swayed unsteadily. "Oh God, I think I need to drink some water. Maybe it would be better if you went back to your own suite tonight. I'll phone you in the morning." She half turned. "Thank you again, Robert. Thanks for a lovely evening."
She pushed past Duke into the room without looking back, leaving the two men staring at each other through the open doorway.
Robert smiled apologetically, turned, and walked away.