When Patrick and Lucky had come to Lucas for help finding their significant others, he had had such a hard time keeping a straight face. Patrick "commitment phobic, love-'em-and-leave-'em" Drake was taking on a woman who not only used to be married to his brother, but was also an instant mother with a struggling career and an obsession for turning him into a decent guy. And then there was his other cousin, Lucky "don't introduce a woman to the family, don't introduce Cameron to anyone" Spencer.
It just floored Lucas to think about the one-eighty each of the men must have gone through in order to prove their worth to their lady loves. The defining factor couldn't be merely sex or Patrick would have lost interest long ago. As far as Lucky went, he must have decided early on that he could trust Elizabeth with the subject of Cameron, because he was so overprotective of his son. Lucas couldn't say he wasn't exactly the same way when it came to Lance, his miracle baby.
Dillon had stayed behind with Lance at the house because his presence hadn't been necessary for the simple task of going through the attic and looking for a box of old pictures the couple had asked Bobbie to keep for them. She was incredible in that none of her pictures, not even the ones from forty or fifty years previous, were slightly yellow. She took such good care of her memories and Lucas knew why. The moment you stopped thinking about someone, remembering the good as well as the bad times you had with them…that was when they truly ceased to exist. He had discovered that five years ago when his father suffered a massive heart attack. Tony had been a reasonably healthy man, never abusing alcohol or excessive greasy foods, so the heart attack caught everyone off guard. He had been on a flight back to Port Charles from Miami having just received the call that his first grandchild was well on his way.
Lucas wiped away a few warranted tears from the corner of each eye and headed up the stairs to the bathroom where the entrance to the attic was located. It was just a small square piece of wood taped to a similarly rectangular hole. Bobbie had asked him to fix it all the time, to add stairs, to secure the hatch better, but he hadn't found a moment to do anything. Five years in, and he was still learning how to balance his life around a husband and a little boy. He really should have been here sooner to do what she asked. Mentally kicking himself, he proceeded to the entrance and stepped up on the commode easing his body up. Flipping a switch, he was left with weak light and a spooky mess of spider webs. Wiping his hands from one side to the other, ripping the intricate fly catchers apart seam by seam, he cleared a path for himself and climbed the rest of the way into the attic. As long as he stayed on the beams, he wouldn't fall through the unstable foundation. It only took him a minute to spot the box labeled Lucas Jones and Dillon Quartermaine-Hornsby-Jones. His better half's life had always intimidated Lucas and he had made no secret of it when they had decided to marry. Dillon had said he was more than happy to trade his two last names for one that would last him a lifetime. Lucas had been relieved, knowing he'd never be able to abandon his family name, that fact even more real after Tony's death.
Sliding his right hand into his back jeans pocket, Lucas retrieved a pocket knife and softly tore the aging tape away from the top of the box. He should really wait until he got downstairs, but sometimes logic wasn't factored in when you were striving to remember a specific moment in time. His and Dillon's six year anniversary was coming up and he desperately wanted to put something together. The first apartment the men had shared together had caught fire one night and destroyed all of their pictures, save the ones in this box. Dillon hadn't been obvious in his grief, but Lucas had known him long enough, loved him long enough, to see through the subtle subterfuge and offer him all the support he possessed. They had been through so much in their time together and their love grew stronger as the days went by because of it.
Deciding it'd be best to get the box downstairs before it all spilled out and he was left with a big mess, Lucas dragged the half opened box toward the exit and took extra care with how he climbed onto the commode and settled the box onto the sink. The bottom of the box started to lean toward the of the edge, the tape making it slide around. Lucas grasped it, his heart in his throat, as if the contents were as fragile as glass. It was then that he noticed something he had missed before: an extra toothbrush. While he knew his mother was famous for having her family guests over--there was a toothbrush for Patrick, Lucky, Lulu, Morgan, and all of the Spencer side really--she never kept them out in plain sight like this. Plus, this toothbrush wasn't a dollar-store knockoff: it was a blue and white SpinBrush. It sat right by her simple maroon toothbrush. Lucas couldn't figure out why it seemed so out of place, any of their relatives or any of her friends could have come over at any time and forgotten their toothbrushes. But there was something about this one that stood out.
Curious, as was a family trait, Lucas opened each drawer one at a time and studied the contents inside. His mother would not appreciate this invasion of her privacy and that was exactly why he wasn't going to tell her. She had been very distant lately, very secretive, and her behavior pushed him to dig deeper, to search harder, to examine every single thing he could get his hands on or wrap his mind around. He knew she was lonely, but he wasn't so naïve to believe she had had no lovers since Tony. She never involved her family for obvious reasons.
Why did his mind automatically move to affair? An extra toothbrush did not constitute this kind of thinking. The PI in him wanted to take pictures and enter them into evidence, but the case would have been weak. A razor that clearly his mother wouldn't have been brave enough to try out herself. An aerosol can of deodorant when she kept a small stick of it in her purse along with a hundred other little knickknacks every grandmother seemed to have with them at all times. There was nothing so obvious as shaving cream or cologne or even aftershave. His mother was good, but then she'd always had to be what with Lucas' insistence in joining a PI firm and Tony seeking out international terrorists for the government.
His phone chirped and he cursed its use for the hundredth time that day. It was one thing both he and Patrick agreed the world would be better without. Glancing down at the neon screen, he rolled his eyes and set the phone to silent. He had only been over her for a few minutes and already Lulu was calling him, wanting to know if he was still on the case of her "boyfriend's" exploits when she was away. He should make his family members pay him for the side assignments they kept sticking him with, but somehow they always suckered him into doing it for free. Brad hadn't so much as called Lucas' little cousin since the last family dinner--Lucas almost wished he had made more of an effort to go to the family dinner after all the hoopla it had caused--and she was certain he was cheating on her. One of these days she was going to have to accept that she needed a man strong enough and smart enough to deal with her family and enjoy it. Granted, he had yet to meet the young man, but it was clear from just seeing his picture that he'd never measure up to the family's standards.
Returning his attention to the box, Lucas carried it to his wine-red 2008 Dodge Grand Caravan. He had fought long and hard for this car, both in price and purpose. Dillon had cackled when he'd driven it into the garage, wondering why Lucas hadn't just gone with a real minivan like the sissy he was. Lucas had been the mother hen of sorts ever since he and Dillon decided to take on parenthood and he was constantly reminded of this. Lucas had sworn up and down that the car was a necessity, that it was safe and practical. Dillon, realizing he was not going to win this one, grin and bear the vehicle when he was left with no other solution but to ride in it with his family. Most times, Dillon would take his cobalt blue nineteen fifty-one Chevrolet, the car itself making him look like he belonged in a black-and-white detective movie.
Patrick had always been the car expert, his baby blue Ferrari having recently been the innocent bystander of his last breakup. Lucas never took that much interest in his cousins' affairs, that is unless they were thrust upon him, so he had no idea who the woman had been. Lucas entertained a small fantasy of what Robin might do to any number of his equipment if she happened to come in contact with it in the near future. Just from what Patrick had told him about the latest fight, Lucas knew Robin and Elizabeth had gone underground to plot the worst kind of revenge. Seeing Lucky suffer the same fate might prove to be entertaining since he was the family's leading Romeo more times than not. It was a nice change to see one cousin stumbling over himself while the other actually kept a mental log of all the conversations he and his girl had had to try and figure out where he'd gone wrong. They were a mess and, as usual, Lucas was going to be the one to clean it up.
Using his super-secret detective skills, Lucas had stopped underestimating the girls. They must have known that, if they put their hotel rooms under their own names, they'd be caught in a second. Even his cousins would have been able to find them. They had taken it a step farther. Courtney's attitude toward the guys that clued Lucas in. Then, he started looking under her name, under her previous hotels, resorts, and spas. Twenty-four hours into his search and he had a location for his cousins, one which he hoped they would get to the girls in time and make-up, because he was exhausted. Sometimes he wondered if he would be able to retire from the PI business just on cases from his family alone. Of course he would have to start actually charging them a fee, but it was worth considering.
It was amazing how much fun just window shopping in New York City could be. Robin and Elizabeth had spent most of their day getting lost in the upscale stores on Fifth Avenue. They had drooled over the newest Jimmy Choo stilettos. A side trip to Tiffany's had erupted into laughter as they each pointed out even more outrageously expensive pieces as suggestions for their well deserved apologies. The door attendants at Chanel, Gucci, and Prada had ignored them, intuiting from some sixth sense that there was no way on Earth they would ever buy anything behind those doors. Giggling, they swung their famous brown bag from Bloomingdale's between them.
"I still can't believe you let me buy this." Elizabeth glanced down into the bag. The dress had just enough material to qualify as an actual garment and not a stitch more. In the back of her mind she wasn't completely convinced she would be arrested for solicitation the second she walked outside in it.
"Let you? You were drooling over it. I was just fortunate enough to get out of the way before you ran me down." Robin smiled.
Elizabeth cocked her eyebrow as she searched her bag for the room key. "Oh and I supposed I just imagined you shoving that woman out of the way for that little white number in there."
Robin blushed. She had become quite fond of thin straps of material passing as nightgowns. This particular beauty was decorated in lace, moderate sequins, and made to spin around her body as it was strapless and there were tiny hooks on the back of it. "Hey, there's no telling when we'll be back in The City. I want to stock up now."
"Denial ain't just a river in Egypt my friend." Elizabeth laughed as she heard the lock release and pushed her way inside to the room, fully intent on falling on top of the enormous comforter and not moving until it was time to eat. Spinning around, she immediately dropped her bag on the floor and found her mouth fall open in shock.
"Oh holy shit." She whispered.
"What's the ma--" Robin did a double take when she saw that they had company, two delivery guys in blue suits and white nametags. There was no way she wouldn't have recognized Patrick; it didn't matter that she couldn't see his face. Other than knowing every intimate curve of his body, she was familiar with his posture, the arrogant tilt of his head, and most importantly, the purposefulness in his walk as he and Lucky went about setting up the last of the assortment of roses, chocolates, balloons, and a few dozen Teddy Bears. The room was covered in Hallmark and Robin wanted to gag. Nice to know Patrick would show his regret with store-bought crap.
If Elizabeth were a cat, her fur would surely be standing on end at the very sight of one unwelcome Lucky Spencer. "Get out." She hissed. "Get the hell out."
"Liz." Robin placed her left hand on Elizabeth's right shoulder, knowing that they would be the first questioned if some kind of tragedy was to befall their boyfriends. Her mind was going a mile a minute. She couldn't tell up from down, open from closed, logic from insanity.
Both Lucky and Patrick had frozen when they heard the voices behind them. This was going to be bad. They were supposed to be finished setting this up and waiting safely down the hall before they came back. Catching each other's eye, they both squared their shoulders to turn and face the two fuming women.
"We were going to surprise you." Patrick answered stupidly. Obviously bonehead, his mind grumbled. He had seen Robin pissed off and that in itself could send him retreating to a corner to hide. It was the pain he now picked up on that stole his breath. He could handle pissed off. He had hoped for pissed off. She was so far beyond single emotions right now that he was afraid to approach her.
"Shocker." Elizabeth crossed her arms and barely controlled the urge to roll her eyes.
"I'm calling security." Robin informed them, moving toward the phone.
"Considering they're the ones that let us in, I'm not so sure how well that would work." Lucky pointed out, realizing too late he hadn't really helped the situation.
"So stalking is on your list of skills now?" Prior to actually seeing him, Elizabeth had thought she was past the murderous rage stage. Well maybe she was actually; seeing him standing there right now only inspired the urge to hurt and maim, not actually kill him. All the planning, desserts, and alcohol in the world hadn't prepared her for seeing him right here, right now.
"Stalking?" Patrick snapped incredulously. Robin had yet to look in his direction. He had to talk to her and he wanted to get her alone to do it. As long as she was this close to Elizabeth, the women could merge their anger and there'd be no reasoning with them at that point. "I guess you'd think that considering how sneaky you both were in hiding out under Courtney's name."
"We didn't leave immediately." Robin clarified, folding her arms, her gaze still on the window. "Where were you?"
"Where were we? Looking for the two of you all over town! And playing twenty questions with Courtney, who I'm sure you'll both be proud to know, has no problem saying nothing." Lucky shot right back. He had spent the past three hours with Patrick, stuck in his Jeep, calling every florist, chocolateer, and toy store in the entire city to set this up. Elizabeth had yet to acknowledge him or even look in his direction since she had hissed her greeting out to them. This was going nowhere fast.
"Saying nothing? There's a fascinating concept you should look into." Elizabeth spit back with as much fury as she could muster, grabbing Robin's arm and heading towards the relative safety of her room.
"That was my fault." Patrick defended his cousin, taking a giant step in the girls' direction to prevent them from getting away.
"I really don't think you should take on your cousin's problems." Robin suggested, her voice barely above a whisper. "You've done more than enough damage on your own."
The bedroom was less than ten feet away. If they could distract him with something shiny, they might just make it inside. Once they were safely inside, they could flip the lock and call the actual police since hotel security was a joke! Patrick was no fool though and he immediately moved to stand in front of the door, leaving them no escape route.
Thinking quickly Elizabeth spun them fast towards Robin's room, tossing teddy bears and flowers out of their way, causing both Patrick and Lucky to cover their faces on instinct. Sensing their best chance for escape, the two friends dashed across the suite, diving for the other door.
Lucky brought his hands down just in time to see the other door shut forcefully behind Robin's fleeting back. He raced to turn the knob before he heard the telltale click but it was too late. Almost the second he reached the door, the unmistakable sound of a lock tumbling into place reached his ears. Smacking his palm against the door, he turned to where Patrick still stood stunned. "We forgot the second bedroom. How did we do that?"
"We weren't expecting them yet. I thought women spent days shopping." Patrick reasoned.
"This calls for the big guns." Lucky rummaged through the assorted gifs to find the backpack he had hauled up here with them. Patrick had laughed when he spotted the old ratty item but it was about to prove its usefulness right now. Digging to the bottom, Lucky grinned when he found exactly what he was looking for. Pulling the lock pick kit his father had given him years ago from the depths he shot his cousin a grin. "Do we risk it?"
"The longer we leave them in there, the quicker they'll go out the window."
"Then we must do what we've got to do."
Patrick made a dramatic wave with his arms and waited impatiently.
"There, that ought to stop them." Elizabeth laughed as she heard the sound of someone hitting the heavy door.
"When they get in here, how do you want to handle this? You know they'll find a way in." Robin pointed out, rubbing the center of her forehead, feeling a headache coming on.
Throwing herself on top of Robin's bed, Elizabeth shot Robin a quizzical look. "How would they get in? I locked the door."
"Have you met them? They are nothing if not resilient. What's to stop the manager from giving them a damn key?"
"Ok they may figure out someway to get in here." Elizabeth was doubtful but Robin had actually been married into this family so she would trust her instincts on this one. "How do you think they found us?"
"Only one way. They used Lucas." Robin answered without a hint of hesitation.
"Rat."
"Bastard. He's so on the Naughty list this year."
"No doubt." Looking around the room, Elizabeth began to weigh her options. The window could have been option, but that was looking less attractive by the minute. "First things first, how sorry do we suspect they really are?"
"Enough to spend a lot of money, but not enough to consider our exit strategies."
"So, sorry, but still underestimating us then?"
"That's right. Let the squirming begin." Robin didn't continue with the dangerous path her mind had begun to travel. Had they really spent the last two days looking for them?
"No matter how cute they look? No matter how many puppy dog eyes they throw our way?" Elizabeth could very clearly see herself caving if she didn't keep reminding herself why she was so mad at Lucky. If her previous experience with making rules were any indication, she was far more prone to break them than follow them where he was concerned. She was going to need backup here if their plans were going to work.
"Even if they get on their hands and knees and beg us to forgive them, we still hold fast." Robin advised her friend. "And we have to stick together. No going off alone with one of them. We're strongest together." She added.
"Yes. No alone time. Alone bad." Elizabeth nodded enthusiastically.
Robin repeated all of the little mantras they had come up with last night to empower herself. Patrick was going to use the big guns and that meant the puppy dog pout. He was going to try to hypnotize her with his touch as he had so many times before. She could already feel her resolve breaking and there was a door separating them. "Alone is very bad."
"They deserve to pay." Elizabeth caught sight of the door opening slightly. "They deserve to pay."