Shoving his ticket stub into the back pants of his faded blue jeans, the voyager stepped onto the platform, his nose lifting as he took in the familiar scents that this funny little town had to offer. It wasn't everyday you could smell fish and corn dogs without gagging, but something about this place always balanced it all out and put him instantly at ease. He gripped his lone suitcase, glancing down at the initials his father had inscribed on the handle: his initials. Behind him, half the town seemed to jump onto the train and, a moment later, the locomotive whistled, announcing its departure. Perhaps they would be returning to the big city or leaving New York altogether and traveling long and far just as he had. Next time, he was taking a plane, no matter how much it cost him. This had better be the last time.

No one went anywhere without a purpose or a plan, at least no one he associated with. He had a backup plan, but he hoped he didn't need to rely on it. He was putting an awful lot of faith in a family that had all but abandoned him, both in conversation and memory. When was the last time any of them had made an effort to see him, to talk to him on the phone? Not that he would have had the time. They would have been greeted by the automated voice that lived on his machine. It was truly the only woman he could stand living with. She was simple and straight to the point: "You have no new messages."

And when he did feel the need for female companionship, he was barely able to step out of his apartment without some desperate, while drop-dead gorgeous female clung to him for dear life. He told them what they wanted to hear and, in return, they made his night worth it. Hookers without a price. It was a perfect way of life. The guy he worked for paid his rent so he didn't have to deal with bills. He usually his friend, Arnold to pay his phone bill , but these last few weeks he hadn't used his phone once. When a crazy girl wound up with his number, he would hand the phone over the owner/manager of his favorite Chinese restaurant. Problem solved.

Whoever said outside beauty could only get so far must have been one ugly bastard, because he had yet to reach his limit. Women, booze, drugs: they were all handed to him. He hadn't ever needed to fork over any money. He had friends all over the place, a group of people who had never let him down. He had thought he could go to them about this financial burden he now found himself in. However, as luck would have it, they had bailed on him the second he got kicked out of his penthouse apartment.

No more free drugs or booze. Now he had only himself to depend on. Women, well he'd never had a problem with them. Most were as loose as a jump rope and he wasn't ashamed to admit he took full advantage. He had never gone so far as to mimic those idiots on Wedding Crashers and scope them out at a funeral. He had morals after all. Somewhere. In his other suitcase. No, he waited until they were out and about, all dressed in black when the whole thing seemed stupid to him. They had found a loophole in the wedding vows they had made. They had stuck with whatever asshole for however many weeks, months, or years, and now they were free again. Why did they have to be so sad? Of course, grief was a great aphrodisiac.

"You wanna get a move on?" A scruffy voice growled from behind him. The bald old man hurried past him, one hand linked with who he assumed was the wife while the other struggled to keep a hold of all three bags. If he was a gambling man, he would imagine two and half of those bags were holding the wife's crap. Men were simple in their packing. Why were women so insecure? There were two categories: beautiful and dog-like. Even makeup wore off in the morning. He had woken up next to a couple dogs, but had been smart enough to slip out before they woke up.

"Sorry Sir. I didn't realize Wheel of Fortune was on." He called after the old couple, his eyes rolling as he felt his lips twitch. If he had been in hearing distance, he bet they would have called him some "whippersnapper" kind of name and waddled away with the wife's cane. At least they were taking the train. Hopefully they weren't still licensed to drive. The entire country should ban old people from driving altogether. The public whined about bad drivers all the time, but they were looking in the wrong place. Why blame the cell phone lovers behind the wheel and not consider the childproof cap fogies in front of them going twenty-five on the freeway dangerous?

Damn. He had thought he was doing so good on time, but his watch disproved that theory and hurried him through the terminal and toward the street. He hailed the one cab in the entire town, but then remembered his sorry budget and waved the driver away, receiving a string of curses for his courtesy. He returned to the train station that doubled as a bus station--would wonders never cease?--and bought a ticket. The next bus would be there in another minute. He counted the steps between the ticket counter and the door, coming up with fifty-seven. The bus showed up and he climbed on, rather unenthusiastically. Who the hell got excited about riding a bus?

Elizabeth sighed as she placed her cooling cup of coffee down on the nightstand behind her. Hugging one of Robin's enormous white throw pillows to her chest, she glanced at the door one lively six-year-old had just run out of. "It's ten in the morning. Where does Morgan get that energy?"

"He got his Wheaties this morning." Robin giggled and took a long drink of her orange juice. She had bed-head hair and was dressed in a pink and blue tank top and a pair of mismatched aquamarine boxers, but Elizabeth obviously didn't care. If one of the guys charged into the loft right now, Robin was making a beeline for the bathroom door and locking herself in.

"I was trying to convince myself that an over abundance of energy was just a phase three-year-olds went through." Elizabeth raised her arms to stretching, causing the edge of her cream sleep shirt emblazoned with the phrase "Coffee now" to sneak up. Lowering her hands, she picked at the loose thread of her black and white checked pajama pants. "I swear I used to have more energy after slumber parties when I was younger."

"Are you worried Cameron isn't going to grow out of his tireless phase?" Robin teased, resting her back against her one remaining throw pillow and lifting her knees so that they were level with her forehead. She had been really good about not pushing Elizabeth for details until now. She hadn't even commented on the unshed tears in her friend's eyes when she showed up last night for dessert and distraction.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Elizabeth glanced out of the window. She knew eventually the giant Lucky Spencer shaped elephant would raise its head. It was time to face at least some of the music. "Don't think I'll be finding that one out."

"You can't send Cam to boarding school. That's way too Evil Stepmother." Robin shook her head.

"Oh I doubt Lucky would let Cameron be out of his sight that long. What I meant was I won't be a part of his life at that point."

Barely able to stop the words, "Yeah right" from escaping her lips, Robin lightly smacked Elizabeth on the arm. "But he loves you." She wasn't specific on purpose. Maybe this would open Elizabeth's eyes. Maybe she would get hit back. Maybe she could talk herself out of going to gym today.

If Robin had made that argument even a day ago, Elizabeth could have possibly been persuaded her friend was right. But not this morning. "Yeah. I'm sure he always thinks the girl he loves is cheating on him with Cruz."

Robin balked at her. "What are you talking about? Lucky is dense, but he isn't blind!"

"He probably wishes he was blind this morning." Elizabeth muttered cryptically. It would serve him right if all he had been able to picture the night before was walking in on Cruz and Bobbie. "He went to Cruz's convinced I was the secret girlfriend and I had went right from getting busted by my boss with him to sleeping with his best friend."

"Why would he think that?" As soon as she asked it, Robin knew. "He didn't. Tell me he didn't."

"Yes. It's a good thing you two aren't talking right now."

Folding her hands over her face, Robin let out an aggravated sigh. "Because our current problems aren't enough, he has to drag you and Lucky into it? I'm sorry Liz." She apologized, watching her friend through the holes in-between her fingers.

"I don't blame you. I blame him." Elizabeth did allow a small smile. "But unless I miss my guess, they are both paying heavier prices than you or I could ever dream of."

"Who was she?" Robin asked, dropping her hands in her lap and leaning forward. She wanted in on what everyone else seemed to already know.

"Bobbie."

"I mean I can--wait what? Bobbie? As in Bobbie Spencer?" Robin sputtered, almost soaking her friend in her drink.

"Bobbie Spencer." Elizabeth nodded. She leaned forward towards Robin. "And those two lunkheads? They interrupted a couple's moment."

Robin knew she should try to put herself in the situation, but she couldn't keep her lips from curving into a smile. She was able to hold back the cackle for a good two seconds before it exploded from her tightly pressed mouth. "Oh Jesus." She didn't even try to establish a bit of composure, because this was the best news she had gotten in a while. "Bobbie and Cruz? And she didn't tell me? I can so keep a secret!"

"Exactly. I didn't get many details before we started all out yelling, but I can imagine neither one of them slept last night. And to be fair, she was way better at hiding it than Cruz was."

"Well, women always are." Robin pointed out. "Wow. I don't how to react to this. I mean, on the one hand I've never seen Bobbie happier..."

"And on the other, Lucky and Patrick just played matchmaker for their aunt."

"Yeah, pretty much. He was just trying to protect your honor." She whispered into her glass, her eyes leaving Elizabeth's.

"Maybe. But he still believed it."

"He considered it for like a second--" Robin stopped talking when she felt her friend's anger from across the bed. It'd be best to drop the subject. "Have you talked to him since then?"

"No. Have you talked to Captain Big Mouth?"

"That's different." Robin set her glass on the nightstand.

Elizabeth felt a full-fledged grin threaten to spread across her face. It was much easier to concentrate on Robin's relationship issues than her own. "So that's a no then."

"Hard to talk to a guy when he disappears." Robin answered, catching Elizabeth's grin and meeting it with a stoic expression.

"Disappeared?" Elizabeth shook her head. The guy had timing, she had to given him credit for that. "Probably figured I was going to kill him with my bare hands."

"Guess so." Why should his reason for leaving have anything to do with you? A little voice taunted Robin. She was probably last on Patrick Drake's list of worries. Ten to one, he had moved on without a second thought after the anniversary party and was pursuing something else now, someone else perhaps. No, a less than confident voice spoke up. You don't really believe that.

"Why is it they screw up and we always end up spending the following hours in tears and trying to figure them out?" Elizabeth wondered.

"Because we're dopes." Robin explained simply.

"Must be it. You know what this kind of revelation calls for don't you?"

"Hmm?" Robin smiled, already guessing but willing to play along.

Elizabeth threw her pillow in Robin's direction. "Chocolate chip pancakes with a side of ice cream."

"How about a mountain of ice cream with a side of pancakes?" Robin asked, unable to block the cushy weapon.

"On one condition."

"Yes?"

"You marry me and prevent me from making any more disastrous mistakes."

Robin laughed. "I keep telling you I'm taken." She reminded her friend when she noticed Morgan in the doorway. "What did you hear little man?" He shook his head and strolled to his room, whistling and smiling. "I've gone and sent that one into early therapy."

"Hate to tell you this, but it was only a matter of time."

It had been three hours since she had worn this little scrap of material. Three hours and yet it was still warm. Her scent clung to the measly fabric and he inhaled sharply, his fingers kneading it as if he imagined she was still wearing it. She and her little friend had gone out and taken the little one with them. He was now free to move around the loft as he saw fit. He would be sure to let her know he had been here. Nothing more attractive than a paranoid young woman afraid to leave the safety of her home. Of course, he would be here when she returned. He would be here until he decided to come out of hiding and make his presence known. The money issue was far from his mind as he stuffed the tank top into the right pocket of his jacket.

She smiled at him from the picture frame on the nightstand. He knew there was more of the place to scope out, hiding places and the like, but he couldn't leave her bedroom just yet. He wanted to climb into her bed and release some of this built-up tension, but that would have been far too obvious and he wanted to surprise her. The room had managed to capture her sweet-smelling scent. He had to sit down. Reaching for the tank top again, he buried his face inside it, closing his eyes. He didn't have to imagine what it was like to touch her, to kiss her, to have her wiggling under him, because he had experienced it all not too long ago. And he would again.

He stumbled into the bathroom and stepped into the shower, her perfumed soaps and hair products making him a little dizzy. He opened each bottle and sniffed it. Once he had run out of bottles, he climbed out of the shower, got undressed, and then jumped back in. Flipping the dial to hot, he squeezed a bit of her body wash into his cupped hands before letting the bottle drop at his feet. As he rubbed the pink liquid all over him, he let his mind wander to a different time and place.

He stayed in the shower until the hot water ran cold and hopped out, making sure to drench a few towels and leave them on the floor for her to pick up. She wouldn't be able to figure out who had used them. She'd know only that someone had been here in her home when her roommate was out of town and she was out with her friend. It gave him a sick kind of satisfaction to imagine her initial reaction. And, as much as he wanted to be there to witness it for himself, his current situation demanded his attention. He had to get out of here before he got caught.

It was too bad her roommate hadn't ever warmed up to him. He might stumble to her room the next time he was over and slip into bed with her as he planned on doing once Robin fell asleep. Of course, he already knew his sweet little Robin was good in bed so there wouldn't be any of that awkwardness that usually came with her and sex. He would slide one hand up and over her hip while the other moved to cover her mouth. She would fight him at first, but he doubted that'd last long. You didn't just go around making a guy hot for nothing. He would make her remember why she had turned to him.