"You need to relax."
"I am relaxed."
"Sure you are." She was trying, but her boyfriend was making the entire supportive thing rather difficult. Lucky had started pacing from the second the orderlies had wheeled Cameron down the hall for a battery of mysterious tests. The young man had insisted that Lucky's presence wasn't' necessary since Cameron was asleep and wouldn't need to be awake for most of the testing. Elizabeth was starting to be convinced the staff at the hospital could see Lucky's frayed nerves and were concerned his nerves would rub off on Cameron. "He's going to be fine."
Lucky had finally figured out exactly how big this room was. Seven steps from wall to wall. And that was only if he took small steps. From the second Cameron was wheeled away and the longer he wasn't right there with him, the larger his steps became. Right now, he was at four steps. "What's taking so long?"
"It's been ten minutes. The orderly said it could take awhile."
"What does he know? He seemed to actually listen to that scary nurse. I'm not so sure about her. What exactly gives her the right to act like she knows it all?"
Elizabeth stood up from her position at the edge of Cameron's bed, moving to place herself directly in his path. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she forced him to stop and look at her, if only not to run her over. She couldn't fault him for his annoyance and his worry, but if Cameron caught on to it when he got back, it would not be good for that little boy. Cameron had been through enough and didn't need to worry about whatever episode his father was going through right now. And it looked like it was up to her to calm Lucky down and remind him of this. Or distract him. Whichever method worked first.
"You really do need to work on this whole concept of positive thinking." She joked.
Lucky forced himself to take a deep breath. He had to be driving every single employee in this hospital crazy. If it wasn't his family taking up residence and basically running every other family out of the waiting room, then it was his son's other grandfather shooting death glares every time their paths accidentally crossed or his increasingly short temper. In the back of his mind he wasn't entirely sure the whole "taking Cameron for tests" wasn't really some sort of hospital code for "give the kid an experimental treatment so he can home sooner and get this lunatic bunch the hell out of our hair." It wasn't their fault he was like this. He was feeling helpless and the one thing he couldn't deal with was helpless. "Optimistic thinking is not in the Spencer family genetic make-up."
"Are you including your mother in that equation? You do realize she's been planning three weddings during this entire situation right?"
He grinned at that remark. His mother planning his own wedding was the chance he took whenever he introduced her to anyone he dated. It shamed Lucky to admit it, but the idea that she would be planning Patrick's or Cruz's as well, hadn't occurred to him. He wondered briefly if they were even aware that while they slept in the waiting room, Laura Spencer was mentally measuring them for tuxedos. "That's not from the Spencer side. That's Grandma Leslie all the way."
"Then maybe you need to tap into that side of you right now." Elizabeth offered a smile. "You have to think positive here. Cameron can't know you're freaked."
She was right. He knew she was right. Lucky was wired way more like his father than he cared to admit to at times. Now was one of these times. Robin had been right when she reminded him they had been in and out of this hospital numerous times as kids. What she didn't remember was the absolute terror Luke Spencer had inspired in the staff when one of his children was hurt. Lucky had seen more than a few of the more veteran staff run in the opposite direction when they spotted his father in the waiting room. "You seem to be the expert here. Where did you get your positive thinking from?"
"Hours and hours of watching Blue's Clues. It works wonders."
Lucky smiled at her joke and led them over to the corner of Cameron's bed. Sitting down, he pulled her into his lap, resting his forehead against her shoulder as she snuggled close to him. He craved the human contact, feeling it was the only thing to anchor him to reality right now. If he could just hold onto her, then maybe he wouldn't feel as if he was going to spin off into space. "Maybe we need to work out some sort of signal if you see me freaking out?"
Elizabeth shifted her eyes upwards, concentrating on the ceiling. She tapped her chin as if in deep thought. "Well it will have to fairly obvious and easy to teach everyone. I'm thinking of hitting you upside your head."
"You think you're funny." Lucky mock growled at her.
"I'm hilarious." Elizabeth declared, giggling as Lucky started to tickle her sides. "Stop it." she warned him.
"Stop what?" He gave her his best innocent look, never stopping his fingers.
She dissolved into giggles, trying desperately to wiggle away from him, but he tightened his grip on her waist. They must make a ridiculous sight, she realized, two adults giggling like a couple of kids in the middle of a currently empty child's hospital room. But at least for now she had accomplished her goal of distracting him.
Dillon hadn't been entirely sure what he was going to walk into when he arrived at the doorway of Cameron's room. All his time in the hospital had been spent running errands and chauffeuring others around. He hadn't actually made it back to Cameron's room. Not out of fear or a lack of love for the boy. Somebody had to take care of the caregivers and per usual Lucas had volunteered for that duty and he had followed. He had been trying to recall all the great hospital bed side scenes he had ever seen but the sight of the tickle fight he was currently looking at threw all his careful work right out the window. He coughed a little louder than he normally did to distract the other couple. "Ahem. I hate to interrupt this fun..."
"Dillon!" Elizabeth let out a surprised yelp as she quickly scrambled to stand up. "What are you doing here? I mean, how are you?"
Dillon tried not to laugh at the deer in the headlights look Elizabeth currently wore. He had only met her a handful of times but he was fairly certain she had the same expression every single time. "I wasn't interrupting anything was I?"
"Dillon?" Lucky looked the other man in the eyes. "I've always liked you. Don' t make me regret that."
"How was I to know you suddenly became a big fan of public spaces Mr. Privacy?"
Stepping in to stop this conversation from rapidly declining into a full-on boy talk complete with name calling, belches, and other assorted bodily functions, Elizabeth stepped towards Dillon and placed her hands on his arm. "Dillon, you came by for a reason?"
Belatedly, he remembered the actual reason why he came by. Ducking his head, Dillon reached into his back pocket for the page he had hurriedly printed off before coming here. He also instantly regretted his joke about Lucky being Mr. Privacy. "Yeah, the reason. So when I went home I was checking my email, glancing at the main page and stuff and I saw this name I thought was familiar and I clicked on it and..." Glancing between the confused couple, Dillon finally sighed and gave up trying to explain his way out of the situation. "I'm sorry Lucky but it looks like the press found out about this. All of this."
"What?" Lucky snatched the offensive paper out of Dillon's hand and scanned it quickly. The buzz words jumped out at him. "Rumor leave of absence from L&B Records". "Sources claim a family emergency." "Hospital officials offer no comment but Spencer has been seen on the pediatric intensive care ward" "Seen with receiving comfort from mysterious brunette." A picture at the bottom of the page showed the hug he shared with Elizabeth the day before in the courtyard, her back to the camera.
"They don't know about Cameron for sure. But they are starting to ask questions." Dillon looked helplessly at the floor. "That was just the first one I found but I'm sure there will be more."
Lucky couldn't catch his breath. All his work to give Cameron a normal life and it was about to be completely undone. He sank back further into the bed and wordlessly handed the sheet over to Elizabeth, who was only beginning to understand what had just happened.
"We have a problem."
"Ladies, would you like to set your coffee on the counter while you shop?" The perky clerk asked the cousins her smile infectious. She had very nice cheekbones, the kind that women dreamed about having, and a subtle gleam in her eye she had probably had since childhood. There was one thing both women could agree on and that was the level of customer service in all of Port Charles' moderately-sized shops. Stacked like a set of dominoes, the stores encircled a nice-looking courtyard with small fountains, neat gardens, and a stone walkway that ran from one side of the space to the other. The parking lot was located just behind the stores so as not to throw off the serene feeling the courtyard offered its many patrons.
"Yes, thank you." The cousins said in unison laughing at each other and obliging the saleswoman and headed in different directions, each taking a section of the store. The mist was a nice change from the scorching temperatures the locals had grown familiar with and every store in the shopping district had its doors open to enhance the lovely weather for each of its customers.
Georgie ran her hand over a pink sequined dress, the texture making the tips of her fingers tingle. The straps were there as decoration, she decided, because they were so flimsy they couldn't have possible held the dress up without the help of the zipper in the back. She didn't call for Robin right away, knowing this was not what they were looking for, but her cousin made her way over anyway and startled her with a soft tap on the shoulder. "Robin, you scared me!" Georgie giggled tucking a loose strand of cinnamon hair behind her ear.
"Sorry. I called your name and everything." Robin assured her barely able to keep from rolling her eyes. It took almost nothing to surprise her younger cousin and she often looked forward to coming up with new and creative ways to do so. "Did you find something you like?"
"I know it's silly." Georgie laughed again seemingly at herself for being drawn to such a glamorous dress. She lovingly stroked the material. "Don't you think it's pretty?"
"I do." Robin nodded deciding not to point out that Georgie would not be needing it unless she just wanted it and, being that it was advertising Italy as its origin, it would surely break Uncle Mac's wallet. "Though when would you wear it?"
"I might just wear it everyday. Around the house and such." Georgie joked and this time Robin joined her in a fit of giggles. "Dad would love that."
"It is kind of short and you know how he gets." Robin advised her wisely.
"How would I know? He's always questioning Maxie's choice of apparel, not mine." Georgie reminded her older cousin.
"Are you saying you've been a good girl long enough and now's the time to strike out and shock poor Uncle Mac?" Robin tried her best to bite back her smile, but it was getting harder and harder to do with Georgie looking right at her. Turning her head so that it was partially slanted, she inspected the straps and the offensive bow at the back of the dress. Unless her cousin was planning on being unwrapped in the very sense of the word, this dress would be staying here.
"I don't know about that." Georgie answered bashfully. "Let's keep looking."
"Alright." Robin agreed showing Georgie to the back of the store wanting her to see a pair of blue jean Capri's and white ruffled shirt. This was far more likely an outfit that wouldn't make her cousin stand out like a sore thumb. Though she had called Robin a hundred times before regarding her trip, the young baker had been suspicious of the timing. And then Patrick offered to baby-sit Morgan so that the girls could go and have a full afternoon of shopping. Something was definitely going on, but she wasn't going to interrogate her cousin; she'd spill soon enough.
To say that working with the commissioner was one of Patrick's favorite things would be as misleading as saying that the sky turned hot pink on Tuesdays. At least the usual tension was gone from the atmosphere, a new uncertainty settling into its place. The house was mostly empty except for the guys, Morgan, and Kristina. Alexis had sworn up and down that Kristina's nanny had come down with the twenty-four-hour bug and that there was nowhere else she could take her because she was due in court for the remainder of the day. Mac had begrudgingly accepted the concealed offer and now the guys had to keep track of both kids while trying to safety proof the girls' loft.
Deciding that the Scorpio kitchen table was as good a spot as any, Mac and Patrick had been in this same spot for the last two hours. While Patrick kept scribbling down notes in Maxie's Jessica Rabbit notebook, the commissioner had selected an old dry erase board from the basement to compile his own line of thinking. Neither had spoken in quite a while as they were lost in their own thoughts and maybe a little unsure of how to work together. Mac had had difficult partners before, but Patrick was a whole new breed of strange. At least the young photographer had been smart enough to pack Cars for the kids to watch in the living room.
"She's going to figure it out…if she doesn't already know." Patrick declared slamming the notebook against the table in frustration. He was being childish, but he had yet to find anything wrong with it. All he wanted to do was keep Robin safe and, until searching her apartment--actually until involving the PCPD--he had been relatively sure that her life wasn't in danger.
"Not unless you open your big mouth and tell her. My niece is very clever and, what's more, she can smell fear. But I really don't think there's any chance of her catching onto what we're doing…unless you tell her." Mac stressed the last few words staring hard at Patrick.
"Why do you assume I'll say anything? The last thing I want is for Robin to go off on some harebrained scheme and get herself hurt." Patrick shot back defensively.
"This bickering is getting us nowhere." Mac pointed out as he rubbed his eyebrows in a tired fashion. "We need to come up with a plan; we need results not what ifs."
"Obviously, we need to make sure she doesn't go anywhere alone--" Patrick supposed resting his chin in his palm.
"Wrong!" Mac's outburst surprised the young man. "If we do that, she'll know we're up to something."
"Then what? You really expect me to leave her alone when she's being targeted--?" Patrick retorted charging to his feet.
"Calm down, Drake." Mac warned through gritted teeth. "As much of a relief as it is to hear how much you care about my niece, the truth is the truth. If we chaperone Robin, she's going to get rid of us and do something foolhardy."
Just as Patrick was about to argue further, the commissioner's cell phone chirped from his left jeans pocket. Answering on the second ring, Mac yelled, "Commissioner Scorpio," without glancing at the caller ID. After a few "yes's" and "I understand's" coupled with "I want to see a full report on my desk" and "Don't make any final decisions before I can get there," the commissioner went quiet and just listened.
Ending the call, he met Patrick's eyes without a flicker of confusion in them. When he made no move to speak, the younger man squirmed in his chair. "Well?" He encouraged waving his hand for dramatic effect.
"The DNA test revealed that what was left at the scene wasn't semen."
"Were they able to determine to figure out what it was?" Patrick asked impatiently.
"It was spoiled yogurt. My detectives are questioning the neighbors--" Mac explained in a grave tone.
"Yogurt?" The chair he had been sitting in crashed to the ground in his incredulous rage.
"That's what it says in the report. This guy gave the guys down at the station a laugh. It cost us half the town's taxes for the year to just run the test. As I was saying, my detectives are talking to the neighbors—"
"Questioning the neighbors? That's it?" Patrick couldn't vouch for actual knowledge of how investigative work went, but he had seen enough television to feel disappointed.
"Where would you suggest we start? I mean, I'm only the commissioner, but you, in your years of police training, have a more logical solution?" Mac challenged folding his arms and hunching over like he had seen his grand nephew do a thousand times when he didn't get his way.
"Tap on the phone?" Patrick threw out there for argument's sake. He wasn't sure what they would have to do to get such a thing, but it sounded reasonable to him.
"For the loft, the bakery, and her cell phone? Are you serious?" Mac shook his head when what he really wanted to do was roll his eyes. "She and Bobbie get an insane amount of calls on the bakery phone alone and you want--"
"I want to not leave her exposed and unprotected." Patrick interjected feeling something that resembled courage. "I want to know that, when I can't be with her, she's got the entire department backing her up."
"I've put up with you for a while for Robin's sake, but don't go assuming you care more about her than I do. I worry about her under normal circumstances. You think I'm not terrified now?" Mac shot back like an aging tiger backed into a corner.
"I know you love her…" Patrick conceded with a nod. "And maybe I'm being an arrogant asshole, but I have to know I'm doing something. You know?"
"I know." Mac answered the question even though he had recognized it as rhetorical. "Let's work out a timeline of Robin's daily schedule and go from there.
"It's not that far a leap." Georgie insisted catching a bit of vanilla as it started to slide over her ice cream cone. They had been at this shopping thing for four hours and yet neither was ready to call it quits and go home: Robin because she dreaded returning to her loft and Georgie because she had no idea how long she was supposed to distract Robin. "And I'm not the only one who wants to know." She added.
"Would Laura Spencer be a part of that group?" Robin asked only half-kidding. That lovely woman had made it her mission to get her boys happy and settled against their very will.
"She might have asked about dresses, but I swear, I didn't tell her any specifics." It would have been clear that Georgie was kidding if Robin had simply met her eyes. As it happened, the brunette was biting off a piece of her waffle cone. Choking and glaring at Georgie, she threw the ice cream into the trash and snatched up her cousin's bottle of water without asking.
"What brought this on? Did I look at a dress too long or what?" Robin wanted to know.
"Oh…no one thing. I was just curious. His family already loves you--" Georgie reminded her.
"Don't!" Robin snapped astonished that her cousin could sound just like Laura without even realizing it. "Commitment was all I wanted. And I got it. Can we talk about something else?"
"Jeez, you're cranky." Georgie rolled her eyes.
"It's a little too soon to be talking marriage isn't it?" Robin bit her tongue. Patrick would have a massive heart attack if he even considered her discussing this with anyone.
"Not necessarily. I mean you've known Patrick a long time and…hey you've already been a Drake once." Georgie pointed out with a grin.
"That was a very Maxie thing to say." Robin growled wondering how they had gotten onto such a topic.
"Why do I get the feeling that isn't a compliment?" George lifted her eyebrows in Robin's direction. "You're going to tell me you've never thought about it?"
"I've never thought about it." Robin promised with an affirmative nod. "It's hard enough to get from one day to the next." She went on in a soft voice almost hoping her cousin didn't catch her statement.
"Well if you were thinking of getting married again--doesn't have to be Patrick." Georgie assured her. "But, what kind of ceremony would you want?"
Robin didn't know which was worse: being afraid to go home or being afraid of slipping up and sending Patrick packing. Best to err on the side of caution. "Why would I be thinking about marrying anyone? It's not all it's cracked up to be. Trust me. When you get married, you better make sure he's the one."
Georgie scrunched up her face looking displeased at having the conversation turned on her. "I'm barely legal and you're already marrying me off." She explained and then blew out a breath, "Point taken, I'll drop it."
"PUT THAT DOWN!" Mac yelled his booming voice barely audible over the screaming television and the breaking glass. This wasn't like the kids at all; they were always so well-behaved when Robin and Alexis were here. He would never again question the power of a mother. In fact, when they came to pick up their kids, he might just kiss their feet. He had thought raising three girls was hard; he had never factored in a little boy. Morgan's going through a phase, Robin had explained calmly. He'll snap out of it…eventually. God help them…and Patrick was about as useless as a wet blanket on a winter night.
"Relax Commissioner. You've got to know how to talk to them." Patrick informed the older man arrogantly. Morgan dipped his spoon in his bowl of chocolate pudding and then catapulted it at Patrick, hitting the collar of his sky blue racing t-shirt. My favorite shirt, Patrick thought morosely.
The kids giggled at the look of surprise spreading across the photographer's face and Kristina took the opportunity to shoot a jellybean at Mac's forehead. "And to think I was worried." Mac grumbled ducking before they could get him with a dose of cherry cough syrup. At least now he knew why they had been quiet and out of the way during his and Patrick's brainstorming time.
"There are only two of them and there are two of us. We can handle them." Patrick told Mac. He took a step toward them and was rewarded with a blow to the forehead, neck, and shoulder. Bending down to pick up the "bullets," he discovered that they had found the bag of orange slices in his coat. What could he say? He liked sugar. And now he was paying for it.
"Have you ever baby-sat before?" Mac wanted to know.
"Sure. I watch Cam all the time." Patrick responded seriously.
"Other than him?" Mac prodded.
"No." Patrick shook his head.
"Duck!" Mac and Patrick hit the floor at Morgan's kind warning, but the hanging mirror wasn't so lucky. Pudding-stained and beaten down by orange slices and jellybeans, the poor sheet of glass was staying up out of defiance alone.
"What is going on here?" Alexis asked from the doorway. Her tone could only be explained by saying it was the one she used in court. Kristina's head fell forward in shame, but Morgan, not familiar with Alexis' tones, continued to giggle. He was quite pleased with himself.
"Patrick started it!" Kristina accused pointing in Patrick's direction.
"I did not!" Patrick argued.
"Not your finest argument." Robin remarked from behind the stern lawyer. Georgie had begged her to let her park the car and Robin, not wanting to rekindle the marriage discussion, had handed her the keys and hopped out. "Morgan, what did you do?"
Pouting at being found out, Morgan glared at his cousin and stayed silent while he tried to work out a believable excuse. "Kristina made me." He said, nodding his head in case she tried to find flaw in what he was telling her.
"That doesn't even make sense." Kristina snapped slapping him upside the back of the head. "Can we go home now Mommy?"
"No one is going anywhere until this mess is cleaned up." Alexis replied narrowing her eyes at her daughter. "Wouldn't you agree, Robin?"
"I most certainly would. Uncle Mac, Patrick, would you please get some Windex and paper towels for these two?" Robin directed them toward the kitchen. She didn't have the threatening tone Alexis did, but she had the dark eyes. The men hurried to the kitchen and the kids looked flabbergasted that they had been caught.
"You'll get yours." Morgan warned snatching the paper towels from Patrick.
"Apologize." Robin ordered without hesitation.
"No." Morgan shook his head.
"Apologize or say bye-bye to your Spider-Man comics." Robin cautioned.
"I'm sorry." Morgan glanced up at Patrick.
"I'm not." Kristina worked in, but only Morgan heard her.