"I'm so tired." Morgan complained as he and Robin took their seats. She had purposely put him by the window and it seemed the tray stationed there had slipped away from its fastener and flung open. Adjusting it, she buckled him into his seatbelt and took her seat.

"You can lie in my lap." Robin offered pushing the right arm of her seat up and requesting a pillow from the flight attendant.

"How long until we get there?" Morgan asked with bleary eyes. He must have stayed up last night without her realizing.

"It's going to be morning and night again and then we'll be there." Robin promised as she patted his back soothingly. She thanked the attendant and tucked the pillow under Morgan's head.

"What's Grandpa Robert like?" Morgan whispered in curiosity.

"He's funny." Robin said. "He's always got the best stories."

"Do you think he'll like me?" Morgan yawned.

"He already loves you." Robin assured him. "Get some sleep munchkin. We'll be there before you know it."

"Okay." Morgan gave in and closed his eyes.

Robin leaned back in her seat and gave a fleeting glance to the other passengers. She wondered if they were all going for pleasure or if business had called them away. Would she see them in eight weeks when she returned home? She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to force out the noise around her, but it wasn't in the cards for her. She was in her last comfortable outfit which meant she'd be shopping in Paris, not that much of a sacrifice. She didn't even have a bag. She had managed to fit her toiletries, pajamas, and meds in Morgan's bag under his socks. The only reason she had a carry-on was her purse and that was something she refused to let leave her side.

Morgan didn't even stir in her lap. Her legs quickly fell asleep and she had no choice but to endure it. It would be worse if Morgan woke up. He was moodier than Patrick when it came to little sleep. She rested her chin in her palm as the last moment they had spent together forced its way to the front of her brain. He had said that he could take them as far as the entrance because, if he went through the doors and over to baggage claim, he would have a damn good reason for them to stay. She knew her leaving wasn't easy on him. It wasn't any easier on her. The seat seemed too small and her clothes too tight. She was always five seconds away from having a public breakdown...or throwing up. She wanted to tell Morgan before they left, but they had run out of time. Her father would figure it out, the timing insisted that he would know, but hopefully she'd get to tell Morgan first, at least warn him.

Softly stroking Morgan's dark hair, Robin wondered how her son would react to the news. Would he feel like he was being replaced? Would he like the idea of being a big brother? Every time he did something that would remind her of herself or one of the Spencers, he would turn around and act like Carly or Sonny, so it was impossible to know how he would take this. Until this moment, she hadn't realized just how much she wanted it. During a time of secrets and disapproval, she needed desperately for her son to be excited about being a big brother.

And then there was the matter of her parents. Her mother would be unhappy about finding out after Robert, but she would eventually let that feeling pass and either accept that she was going to be a grandmother for the second time or go do something foolish to prove that she was far too unconventional to be of much use to her grandchildren. Robin doubted she would react with anything but joy. She could still remember calling her mother when she had found out she was being awarded guardianship of Morgan.

Her father had never truly met Patrick, so chances were he wouldn't be as accommodating, but she bet he would come around. He hadn't had contact with Morgan, not even once, but she blamed that on bad timing and the demands of his job. It wasn't like he had stayed away this long because he didn't love her or want to be a part of his grandson's life. She hadn't been lying about his fantastic stories. For now, Morgan might think they were exaggerations just as she had as a child. Though she had grown up, those stories would never be anything less than magical to her.

Was she naïve for expecting the Spencers to react a different way to her and Patrick's quickie engagement? The reasons for going through with it were still valid. Logan might come after his brother's girlfriend, but she highly doubted he was brave, or stupid, enough to come after her now. That was what the newspaper announcement had been about. Patrick had suggested they keep the knowledge of her departure limited to only a few people, because he wanted Logan to make a move, if he was going to, in Port Charles where he could be handled. He still wasn't happy about her leaving in the first place, but he had accepted it with quiet consent.

She had been over and over her decision to leave and this still seemed like the best idea. Leaving Patrick, her friends, and the rest of her family had been really hard, but it was only two months right? By the time she returned, surely they would get over their shock and be happy for her. She would give anything for them to share in some of her joy. Despite Patrick's reasons for asking her now, despite her reasons for accepting, she felt safe and loved when she remembered what he had said to her outside the nursery: Maybe one day it wouldn't be a lie.

*****

There were moments in Sherry Lockhart's life that she felt truly afraid, and this was not one of them. For all her glory, she knew she would have to keep going above and beyond to keep the cushy new job she acquired for herself. This was why she hadn't released the videotape to the world. That hadn't kept her from hinting at it to her boss and colleagues or making certain that all of the video feed had been sent to her home computer. Call her paranoid, but she hadn't even trusted her cameraman. In this business it was eat or be eaten and all too often she was the main course.

Well no more. She was meeting with one of the biggest names in the music scene, the man connected to it all. Glenn Williams. The name sounded so nice slipping off her tongue. He had promised her an inside peek at her icon's upcoming nuptials if she showed him the tape. It was a risk, no doubt, but one that she felt comfortable taking. His role in all of this might seem small to someone else, but she happened to know he worked for the best friend of Lucky Spencer who just happened to make it his business to promote Daphne Vega who was getting married to...okay so she didn't remember his name, but he wasn't really a part of this anyway.

It seemed almost too simple to meet such a man at a coffee shop where they would both be delivering equal pieces of media magic. He had told her that no one knew that he was meeting her and no one could know once the arrangement was made. She had no problem with that. She had never, never released one of her sources and she wasn't about to start now. Smoothing down the invisible wrinkles in her sunshine-yellow knee-length dress and stepped into the coffee shop.

He had worried about not being able to find her in the crowded college hangout. The number of girls who fit the description of "pale blonde hair and blue eyes" was immeasurable really. But when he spotted the enormous ring that somehow sat on her left hand, Axe knew he had found his fish.

It had been sheer luck Bobbie vaguely remembered the woman claiming to be a friend of Elizabeth's at the shower. Earth Mother had been the one to clue them all into the ring. Without that bit of information, the fish would have swum on by he feared. Catching her eye, Axe lifted his hand slightly in greeting, flashing the large yellow plastic watch he had told her he would wear.

"Sherry?" He questioned when she neared his table.

"Glenn?" She didn't mean to sound suspicious, but she didn't want to immediately trust some pretty face. He could easily have picked her out from her picture in the paper. She had asked not to be named publicly because she worried about lawsuits and silly little things like that. It had been a pure stroke of luck that she had been there to answer the phone when Glenn called her.

Smiling at her was going to be the best acting performance of his life. With a wave of his hand, he gestured towards the empty chair opposite him. "Take a seat. How's the business been treating you these days?"

"It's about to be treating me to a corner office." Sherry replied with a smile taking her seat. "You?"

"Can't complain much. Any problems getting away?"

"Well if my boss was suspicious about me leaving early, he didn't mention it to me. I made sure I wasn't followed." She assured him in a serious tone.

"Good. The last thing either of us needs right now is prying eyes." He adopted a grave tone, scanning the shop carefully. Let her assume it was for a stray tabloid reporter or a nosy college student. It would make the reveal so much better for him if she did believe that.

"What have you brought me? You never went into details about it." And that had Sherry especially worried. It was like he had known just how to get her to say yes.

"Shh." Axe threw in some exaggerated hand motions and made a great show of looking around. "We are talking highly sensitive material no one knows I have right now. Lower your voice."

"I'm sorry." Sherry apologized profusely yet quietly.

Leaning down, Axe pulled a manila envelope out of the messenger bag sitting at his feet. Pushing the thick envelope towards her, he leaned closer over the table towards her. "It's all in here. I know a pissed off employee of her wedding planner. Guest lists, dress sketches, the date." Seeing her starting to break the clasp, he put his hands over hers quickly. "Don't open it here." He admonished her.

"You expect me to hand over this tape when I can't even see what this is? You're crazy. You're wasting my time." Sherry got up to leave.

"Sit down." He urged her. "I figured you would say that so I have something else for you." Seeing her interest peeked, he pulled out a small photograph from the front pouch of the messenger bag. "Here. Daphne Vega in one of the rejected dresses."

"Oooh." Sherry couldn't help but squeal.

"Girls." Axe muttered.

She reached over to take the folder from him, but he pulled it back. "What are you doing? I thought you said I could see."

"You get something, I get something. That was the deal. I'm not doing this out of the goodness of my heart."

Sherry nodded and crouched down to retrieve her computer bag. "I have the volume turned all the way down for obvious reasons." She explained to him while she set the laptop on the table. "Take a look."

He really didn't want to look. After all if this worked, he would still have to socialize occasionally with Music Man and the Little Momma. Looking would make that awkward on a scale not invented yet. Still, he had to at least make sure it was what this Nosy One kept hinting it was. Glancing quickly to see familiar faces, he trained his eyes on the top of the laptop, giving the impression he was watching while he could look away to his heart's content. "How'd you manage to pull it off?"

"Hidden camera. I placed it on Elizabeth's shoulder as I brushed past her. She never even realized." Sherry giggled.

"Sneaky. Very sneaky."

"What are you going to do with it?" Sherry wanted to know. She had purposely not made copies out of fear that someone could find the tape and keep it for themselves or claim it was theirs all along.

Closing the laptop, Axe shot a wink at her. "You would never guess."

"You kept your end of the deal. Thank you so much for this." Sherry didn't point out that after she showed her boss these pictures, the Spencer story would be yesterday's news. How fortunate for her that she had been able to negotiate both events!

Popping the CD out of the computer, Axe placed it securely in the messenger bag. "Trust me you don't need to thank me." Throwing up his hand, he held up three fingers, for all intents and purposes looking as if he was signaling for the check.

"I have to get going. Dinner plans. You understand." With Graham Nelson of all people! He had been so impressed with what she had come up with he had asked her out that day. There was nothing this story hadn't done for her, but it was too big. She supposed that was why she had handed over the tape.

"No I don't think you do." Becca purred sweetly, placing her hand on Sherry's shoulder. Leaning over the other woman, she grabbed the manila envelope easily enough. "I think I'll be taking that."

"Hey!" Sherry yelled incredulously snapping to her feet. "What do you think you are doing?"

"Taking what doesn't belong to you." Becca defended, crossing her arms and holding tightly to the envelope.

"Glenn? What is going on here?" Sherry demanded noticing the wide smile on his face. Becca made it a point to sit in his lap.

"Let me enlighten you, Ms. Lockhart." Cruz ambled over to the group slowly. "It's called a trap. And let me be the first to congratulate you for falling into it so spectacularly."

*****

The police might have been a little more surprised at the turning in of a hardened criminal who was not on their immediate agenda if Harper hadn't been the one to deliver him. She had had to stay in the car out of fear that someone would link them. They worked best if she remained a ghost. She hadn't been kidding when she had said women like her were a dime a dozen. Even Donnelly wouldn't be able to describe her by tomorrow morning.

While Sam was pleased she was still alive and hadn't been abused in any way, she was furious with Harper. His reaction to the situation made her want to strangle him! So Donnelly had grabbed her arm? If she had thought him a real threat, she could have had him on the pavement flat on his back in seconds. Why couldn't he have waited for the signal? While the blow she had struck with her knife had only been to the shoulder, she didn't feel all that comfortable with having to stab someone. Ironic considering her past life with Jason Morgan.

She could hear his footsteps just beyond the door and planted her hands on her hips and her feet to the carpet in preparation for his arrival. He had told her he needed to take care of a few things so that "his" arrest wouldn't seem suspicious and she had stayed here, biding her time, livid beyond belief. Well he was here now, wasn't he? Picking up the heaviest thing she could find—an "antique" vase from the side table in the living room—she thrust it at the opening door.

"I'm ba...What the hell?" Harper was just barely able to duck before the vase struck the wall, bursting into a million pieces. Shaking his head as he drew up to his full height, he stared at Sam in disbelief. "What is your problem?"

"YOU ARE!" Sam clarified pulling off one of her red heels and throwing it at his head.

Grabbing the shoe in mid air, he tossed it behind his head, bouncing it off the door as he stepped further into the room. "Have you lost your mind? Do you want people to remember the fact we both live here?"

"The walls are soundproof." Sam pointed out advancing on him, having to limp when she realized she was only wearing one shoe. "So no one will hear me choking the life out of you."

"You wouldn't be able to go through with it."

"The mood I'm in, I wouldn't be so sure if I were you. How dare you?" She challenged angrily.

"How dare I what? Save your ass?"

"Who the hell asked you to? I was doing just fine on my own." Sam reminded him.

"Like hell you were. He never should have been able to get his hand on you."

"It was a mistake on his part, not mine. If I had jerked away, it would have blown my cover."

"No you would have been a normal, scared fifteen-year-old. Who you were pretending to be again?"

"What are you talking about?"

Harper took a step closer to her, his eyes flashing. "If a known pimp grabs the arm of a teenage girl, her first response is to flinch. It's instinct. Even for the toughest girl, she flinches. You didn't flinch."

"So what? He trusted me." Sam defended herself.

"He didn't trust you." Harper snorted in frustration. "He was looking at you as his next victim, the next body I got to pull out of a Dumpster, or his next girl walking the street."

"It would have been really nice to know that you didn't trust me before last night. Maybe then I wouldn't have wasted my time."

"Not trust you? How did you pull that conclusion out of your ass?"

"I didn't give you the damn signal."

"You weren't going to be given the chance."

"You don't know that! You got sloppy and two people got hurt."

"Oh you are not worried about the security force of a pimp."

Sam got in his face, having to stand on her tiptoes, "Why did you shoot Donnelly?"

"He threw you to those goons."

She shook her head. "I knew it. We're partners, but out for different agendas. You shouldn't have worried about me."

"That's where you're wrong. I worry about all my partners." Harper shook his head and reached out to grab both of her arms. "I'd worry about you if you were my regular partner on the force. And trust me Joel wouldn't fill out that outfit as well as you did."

"So it was a purely physical reaction then? Great." Sam muttered darkly.

"No it was pure instinct." He pulled her closer to him. "My first response is always going to be to protect you if things go wrong. And for reasons other than the ones you are currently thinking of. If you can't deal with the fact that keeping you safe is important to me, then maybe you should walk away right now." With every word he spoke, his face drew closer to hers.

"I just want us to be equal. Is that so wrong? Does attraction always have to skew the facts? Fact one: We could have died yesterday because you jumped the gun quite literally. Fact two—"

"Fact two." Harper interrupted her quickly. "You're the one did the most damage with that knife."

Sam withdrew as if he had slapped her. Suddenly, she wanted to be far away from him. "Let me go."

"No."

"No? You can't say something like that to me..."

"But you can blame me for everything under the sun and it's fine?" He countered incredulously. "If you want equality that includes the fun and the not so fun."

"I don't know if you noticed, but they had two guns and you only had one."

Harper smiled slowly. "So you were trying to save me?"

"I didn't say that. It'd be much easier to explain two dead bodies in an alley than a shot cop when I'm more or less a ghost in this town."

"Trust me, no one could ignore you. There is no way you're a ghost."

"Would you stay on topic?" Sam flicked him on the forehead.

"Where we were discussing your interest in protecting me?"

"I wasn't protecting you."

"That's not what you just said."

"Men! Let me go God damn it!" Sam squirmed.

"What's the problem with admitting you cared about what happened to me?"

"I don't want to care about what happens to anybody but me." Sam whispered. "It's less messy that way."

"I think you lie."

"You know what I think?"

"Do share."

"I think you're a pompous ass." She said, quickly leaning up to meld their mouths together. It was just a soft kiss, a question.

Pulling away from her reluctantly, Harper smiled. "And I think you like that."

"Shut up." Sam warned kissing him again.

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he winked down at her. "I don't follow orders real well."

Previews:

Biting her lip she tried to keep from looking at the corner of the room where his toys still took residence. She hadn't the heart to clean up a single one of them, so they still littered the floor, exactly the way they had when he had left for Majandra's party. Once thrown to the side in excitement, now they were sad reminders of Cameron's absence.