If there was one thing he hated in life, it was when Lucas was right. Tired of hearing his ever-escalating scenarios for getting inside the Alcazar mansion, Lucas had merely picked up the phone and asked to speak to Sage directly. Dillon almost fell off his chair when not only did his husband get through, but Sage also agreed to meet with them today. Apparently Sage appreciated a simple, direct approach, a completely foreign and over-rated concept as far as Dillon was concerned.

Looking around the lavishly appointed room, Dillon could grudgingly admit the sunroom more than made up for the decidedly mind-numbing arrival. Every stick of furniture could easily be placed inside large room with its marble tiled floor and the entire wall made of windows. As it was, he was reasonably sure the entire Quartermaine estate could be comfortably encased inside the Alcazar compound. Clearly there was more money to be made in South America than Edward wanted to admit.

Looking at his watch, Dillon blew out an irritated breath and began to pace, his footsteps echoing in the silent room. "If she's going to mess with my movie moment here, the least she could do is to be on time when we show up."

"She'll be here." Lucas assured his husband.

"I've never stood you boys up before." Sage entered the room with a smile. "I don't intend to start now."

"Sage." Dillon forced a smile onto his face. "You look great."

"We were kind of hoping to get to the point." Time was not on their side; Lucas wasn't willing to waste a moment on bland pleasantries.

"I always did like direct." Sage nodded. "So why call me after what, six years?"

Looking over at Lucas, Dillon saw his husband give an almost indecipherable nod. "We're here about Lance."

"What about him?" Sage asked evenly. If they hadn't both shown up, she wouldn't have known who Lance was. She would have figured it out eventually, but she always had had a difficult time remembering Lucas's name. And it sounded so much like Lance; she might have spurted out marital advice if Dillon had come alone not knowing any better. The fact that she could barely sustain a relationship with her cocker spaniel need not apply.

"He's sick Sage." Dillon leaned forward. "He's sick and he might need you."

"But you two are his parents. Can't you provide for him?" Sage questioned carefully. She didn't want to fight with them; it was rare for any of her old friends to visit her.

"In this case, you're more of his parent than I am." Lucas whispered.

"Lance has a genetic condition. And right now his doctors think he's ok but he could need a transplant. I was already tested and I'm not a match." Dillon said sadly. "But as his mother..."

Sage's calm mask slipped off and she shot to her feet. "No, see that's where you're wrong. I am not his mother."

"You are." Lucas insisted. "And he needs you."

"The best thing I could have done for that kid was to give him to you. You're his parents. I'm little more than a—" Sage stammered on.

"A biological donor." Dillon cut her off. "But he needs you."

"What he needs is to be kept far, far away from me." Sage argued, slicing the air with her hand.

"And why is that?" Lucas wanted to know. "What's so wrong with you? What don't you want Lance to see?"

"He's a smart kid. Whatever you're afraid of won't matter to him." Dillon promised her.

"Look," Sage hesitantly looked up at them, her eyes darting from one to the other. "When my father and uncle were born, they knew this was a dangerous business they were in, but they figured it would end with them. When my father met my mother, all bets were off and he forgot the most important thing: children are not safe, least of all the ones from our family. My mother was killed by one of my father's enemies and then I was shipped off to boarding school only to meet my secret uncle years later. He brought me back here and promised to keep me safe. He died this past year, a heart attack. I have my suspicions that he was poisoned, but the jury is still out on that one. Who cares if one more Alcazar is lost so long as the world stays 'safe' right?"

"The only reason I agreed to be your surrogate was because I saw in you two what I have never seen in any of my parental figures: possibilities. Neither of you are connected to illegal handlings like that of my family. Crime does pay and this house is a perfect example of just how much. Right now, Lance is safe. You say he's sick and I'm telling you I'm willing to help you financially in any way you might need." She suddenly picked up her long-forgotten drink and took a quick jug of it, coughing. "If it comes out that I have any connection to Lance, he could be in danger." Sage warned.

"He doesn't need money. What he needs is for you to get tested." Dillon stated flatly. "Hell Sage there is such a thing as getting tested under a fake name."

"You're not hearing me." Sage yelled. "The only reason they haven't come after me is because this house is not linked to my uncle, not in name or business."

"So what you're really worried about is yourself?" Lucas assumed.

"I never said I wasn't selfish." Sage pointed out. "And I'm not ready to die."

Standing up Dillon reached for Lucas's hand. "And we aren't ready for Lance to die." He said coldly as he started for the door.

Sage watched them go, wishing for the millionth time in six years that she could be what they wanted her to be, do what they asked of her. It was just too hard. She wasn't willing to risk her life and that of their son's, but maybe...maybe if she could find a donor for Lance then it would all be okay. Inspired, she lifted the phone to her ear and made a call. "Diego? It's Sage. I need you to do me a little favor. It's in the interest of our family."

*****

Taking a deep breath, Georgie made her way through the maze of desks that made up the squad room of the Port Charles Police Department. There was a time that she and Maxie had run in between these desks with abandon, hiding beneath and behind them with immunity. There wasn't a cop in town she didn't know or at least recognize on sight. This place was her second home.

Now it was the place her father had taken to avoiding her at. Ever since she put the last of her bags in her car, suddenly he was always at his office. No matter the time of day. He was always working. A few years ago that might have been a reasonable assumption, but not now. Not since he and Alexis worked so hard to put those lowlifes behind bars where they belonged. The days of three straight weeks at the office without coming home had long been over.

Alright, she reasoned with herself, he was hurting. His pride and trust had taken a severe beating in the past few weeks between all three of his girls. But he had to get past this. If he didn't, he was going to miss out on walking Robin down the aisle. Or seeing the birth of his first grandson. Maybe it would work better if all three of his girls came to confront him together, but that might just be another reminder of what he didn't want to face. They were capable adults, largely thanks to him, and while they still loved him, they didn't need him in the same way. Squaring her shoulders, she marched straight towards his door, determined to work this out with her father one way or another. She was tired of avoiding him. Tired of Steven only jokingly being afraid of her father. She had inadvertently started this mess and she was going to start cleaning it up.

Knocking, but not waiting for him to give her permission to enter, Georgie opened the door and only stopped long enough to make sure he wasn't briefing an officer on a case before she spoke. "Dad. We need to talk."

Mac lifted his eyes to his beautiful daughter. In his mind's eye, she was still seven years old, asking to go with him to work instead of school. Don't get him wrong, she had always loved school, but that had been the year Felicia skipped out on the girls and she had wanted to stay as close to Mac as possible just in case he got the same idea. Now she had someone else to protect her, someone else to turn to. "Georgie, what can I do for you?"

"For starters you can stop avoiding me." She spoke calmly as she lowered herself into the chair opposite his desk.

"I'm not...in the mood to go into this right now." Mac had never lied to his girls and he wasn't going to start now.

"Well you better get in the mood or you're going to miss a heck of a lot more than just my wedding."

"Thanks for that by the way." Mac shot back, opening one of the files stacked on top of his desk.

Closing her eyes, Georgie blew out a sigh. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say it like that."

"It's done." Mac reminded her. "I'm sure I can just ask your husband about it. Or one of your friends. God forbid you consider me enough to at least call and tell me."

"You would rather I told you over the phone?" Georgie asked incredulously. "Don't lie to me."

"Like you lied to me? You come home and sneak around to avoid telling me that you're married. You didn't even tell me you were dating. Would I have gotten to know if there had been a baby?" Mac tore his gaze from hers and shoveled papers around.

"Yes you would have. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I just...I just wanted everything to be perfect. And so I waited, which I now realize made everything so much less than perfect." Georgie sniffed, feeling tears start to prick her eyes. "Everything just happened so fast, I didn't realize what the right thing to do was until it was too late."

Mac pushed his chair back so fast it slammed into the wall and the noise startled Georgie. He rounded the desk and collected her in his arms. "I hate it when you cry." And he did. God, nothing hurt him more. Her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders and he choked back a sob of his own. "I just...I hate that I wasn't included. You've all grown up without my permission. You don't need me anymore."

"I still need you." Georgie sniffed brokenly into his arm. "Just in a different way."

"Can I tell you a secret?"

"I think I owe you that much."

"You know the part of the ceremony where the preacher asks, 'Who gives this woman away'? Well I wouldn't have been able to."

"See I kinda suspected that."

"Even knowing now that it's all set in stone, I don't think I can." Mac drew back from her to meet her eyes.

"Daddy. I'm just living across town. Not across the country. I'm still going to finish at PCU. It will be like I'm living in the dorms." At least for now. She suspected her husband had this crazy idea of moving to Port Charles and continue to do his job, but Georgie felt this was crazy talk. To work, Steven needed to be in LA. But one bridge at a time where her father was concerned.

"I would never ask you to put your dreams on hold, sweet girl." Mac assured her. "I'm with you no matter where you are. And I'm sorry I've been acting like a child. I am so happy for you and...Steven."

Georgie smiled up at him. "You said his name. Thank you."

"Just don't think I'm going to make a habit of it." Mac offered her a smile and then returned to his seat. "Is it really that simple?"

"Only if you actually keep talking to me. Avoid me again and all bets are off."

"That's not what I mean." Mac shook his head. "I mean is it just as simple as 'I love you, let's get married'?"

"It was with me." Georgie shrugged. "Of course, being on the streets of Paris had a bit of a helping hand." She eyed Mac suspiciously. "Why are you so curious?"

"Let's just say I'm having a little trouble getting my fiancé from Point A to Point B."

Georgie chewed on her bottom lip. "I could help if you want."

"I would love it if you would."

Smiling up at her father, Georgie made her way over toward his desk. "Then show me what you've got so far."

Previews:

"I wouldn't mind beating his face in and explaining it to him."

"If you're right, I'll join you."