SLD-129 (Book 3 Chapter 32)

The Research Lab, Villa Scorpio

Click. Click. Rap. Click.

Robin's fingers sounded a soft staccato beat as she methodically created notes on all the formulas residing in her head. It was painstaking work and required all her concentration. There was no soft music playing. Vincent had been banished to his spy duties. Robin had skipped breakfast eager to begin her work.

Silently, Robert watched his daughter from the doorway. He studied her features looking for signs of illness or distress. He hadn't gotten used to the short hairstyle yet but everything else was the same.

"How long are you going to stand there, Dad?" asked Robin looking up from her the screen and giving her father a shy smile.

Robert grinned. "I didn't want to disturb you." He came in and gave her a brief hug.

"How went the mission?"

"Good since I'm here in one piece."

Robin frowned. "Mom didn't say it was that dangerous."

"It wasn't. Just some inside-the-business humor."

"Sure it was," said Robin in a tone of voice that meant she believed him not at all. "You shouldn't be in the field anymore. Delegate. You have enough people don't you?"

"Their job is to protect this place and everyone I love in it."

"What about the father that I love? Who's protecting you?" asked Robin.

"Your mother has my back and I've got hers. That's always worked for us in the past."

"True. But I worry anyway."

"You never used to worry about our work," said Robert.

"I didn't know the reality. It seems exciting and wonderful when you're ten years old." Robin saved her work and faced her father. "What brings you by? As you can see I'm where I'm supposed to be and fully accounted for."

"You didn't show up for breakfast. We were concerned," said Robert.

"Panicked," interpreted Robin.

Robert grinned again. "Your mother wanted to check on you and-"

"Demanded to."

"We flipped a coin and you got me."

"Mom sent you in first to test the waters."

Robert guffawed then his expression turned serious. "On the level. You're feeling okay?"

Robin said carefully, "Yes. Have you heard otherwise?"

"Vincent said you were fine."

"Then why the third degree?"

"It's paranoia. Eve's illness took us by surprise, your mum and I. I've taken bullets that didn't destroy me like the news that Eve had full-blown HIV," said Robert. "I was one of the last to see her. She already knew she had it and tried everything to ... to hide it. I didn't notice anything. I wasn't thinking about my daughter at the time and, maybe if I was, I could have spotted something."

"If she knew you and Mom as well as I think she did, she knew how to make you not notice," said Robin. "It wasn't your fault that you didn't pick up on the symptoms."

"It doesn't make me a very good father though."

"Yes you are. You found me and you're here. That's what counts."

"You shouldn't let me slide so easily. Your mother does the same thing."

"And you return the favor. It's all the same."

"No, it's not." Robert positioned a stool close to Robin's work bench and sat down. "I wasn't a very good father when I came back into my daughter's life. In a way, I'm glad it wasn't you."

"How bad could you have been?" asked Robin.

"Let me count the ways. I didn't try to understand my grown up daughter. I said I was trying but I really wasn't investing time and effort. I called her frigid. I meddled in her life and probably made some things worse," admitted Robert.

Robin grimaced. "That's pretty bad. Frigid, really?"

"It was the wrong word said in the heat of an argument. I meant guarded, closed off from life," said Robert. "Ever since you were young, you grabbed life by the throat and never let go. Just looking at you made me feel good. When I came back, all I could see were the things I had lost - you, your mother, my family, Mac, all the special moments that I had been looking forward to sharing with you. All gone."

"I think that was some of my doing," said Robin.

"You?"

"Yeah. Remember I said that during Peter's taped interrogation of me that I changed some things?"

Robert nodded. "To provide misleading information to Eve."

"If you ever see the tapes, you'll notice that I gave the impression that we weren't close, Dad. That ... that you were never there for me. That your job was always more important. Nonsense like that," explained Robin. "I'm sorry. It was the only thing I could think of."

"Ah, that accounts for the way she let me have it when she found me hacking into the hospital computer."

"Cold? Unsympathetic?"

"Downright hostile."

"You didn't find that odd?"

"Given the facts that I had purposely stayed away and made everyone believe I was dead, I felt the reaction was justified," said Robert. "Instead of staying and reconnecting with my family, I fled like a coward into the night. Maybe her purpose all along was to keep our family slightly broken. Better to keep her deception going. And the operative didn't even know she was doing it."

"You may have left but you came back."

"I was on a mission in Canada. My brain tumor began to act up. On instinct, I must have steered my plane home. I crashed by the river," said Robert. "Home is where the heart is after all."

"I'm grateful she was there. She took care of you and supported Mom," said Robin.

"They ganged up on me at every turn," said Robert. "My little girl would never have done that to me."

Robin smiled. "Only if you were doing something you shouldn't."

"I've learned from my mistakes. I'm going to watch you like a hawk."

"That's not necessary."

"Maybe not but I need to. For my peace of mind," said Robert.

Robin's lips pursed. "Mom will be doing the same thing. Ultra-mothering."

"Of course she is. She's more guilt-ridden than I am. Give us a few years and maybe we'll ease up. Maybe." Robert looked his daughter in the eye. "You WILL tell us if something is wrong? Or just tell me?"

"When I feel I have something important to tell you and Mom, I will," said Robin.

"Promise?"

Robin crossed her heart with her index finger. "Promise."

"And no waiting until you're at the hospital for a surprise confession?"

"No. Promise."

"That's all I'm getting today?"

"That should be enough, Dad."

"It is and it's not."

"Why not? Do I have a sign blinking above my head saying 'She has a secret'? asked Robin trying to sound flippant and succeeding.

"No sign. I do feel more of a connection with you than I ever did with Eve but you're still not letting me or your mum in," said Robert. "I understand that you're facing an enormous adjustment. I want to make sure that it's that and not something ... medical or, God forbid, psychological."

"I have years of trained behavior to break. I'm working on it. No cure happens overnight," said Robin. "I don't mean to push people away. Never that. I just need a little space."

"Fine. Take all the space you need."

"Sometimes, when I first wake up, I still think I'm back there. I have to look out the window to convince myself I'm not," said Robin.

"Oh, sweetheart, if I could change all of that I would," said Robert.

"It's over and my life is moving forward again. I'm here and I don't plan to be leaving anytime soon."

"Not leaving ever?" asked Robert carefully.

"Dad, you never stop."

"I'm your father. I'll never stop wanting you to be close at hand. Even when you're sixty and I'm hitting a hundred. Your mother says she can let you go. I don't believe her for a second."

"I don't either."

"Remember, you can tell me anything. I can even keep it from your mother if you want me to," said Robert.

"No, you won't," said Robin.

"I might for a few days," said Robert. "Promise?"

Robin gave her father a quick kiss on the cheek. "Promise. Now, I have to get back to work or we'll never get a reacting agent done."

"Just one last itty bitty thing."

"What?"

"I need another hug to last me the whole day."

Father and daughter hugged before Robert left Robin to her work.

Majestic Theater

Outside, shoppers and passersby gawked and cars slowed down. Satellite trucks filled a short parking lane in front. Reporters from various local and global agencies made their reports with the theater for a backdrop. The entrance or exit of a prominent figure of fashion caused minor stampedes as legitimate reporters and cameramen vied with opportunistic paparazzi for the best positions and angles.

Backstage was pandemonium. Dressing rooms had been turned into makeshift offices and dress closets. One dressing room per designer. The cloak room was now a loud and crowded fitting area. Set designers, carpenters and electricians added the final touches to the grand stage. In the expansive lobby, the bar had been turned into an impromptu hair salon. Dryers, crimpers and curlers were lined across the length of the bar counter. Stylists and seated models planned all the various hair styles that would be required. Territorial assistants buzzed like bees around racks of clothes, shoes, bags and other accessories.

Anna strode into the lobby having arrived via the back door alley. The scene that greeted her left her confused. It wasn't a state of mind she was used to. Society doyen Lorena Barrington preened in front of a full length mirror as a fun but age-appropriate outfit was adjusted on her svelte frame by nimble fitters. Beside her, Monica modeled an elegant evening dress of midnight blue. Tom emerged out of the cloak room in a blazer combination that set off his height and fair looks to their best advantage. Claudia Philips chatted like a magpie with the assistants as she picked out a purse and shoes amongst the racks. Audrey Hardy and Bobbie sat side by side as stylists tried this and that style by the bar counter. In casual sportswear, Mac waved at Anna as he posed for photos in the makeshift photo stand. At last, Anna caught sight of Tiffany and Frisco at the top of the stairs. She made her way towards them.

At the top of the stairs, Tiffany read the shorthand scribbles one more time to Frisco while he wrote on his palm with a Sharpie pen.

"Banq or Bank Halland T-R-A-N-S approved March 2008 S-L-I-X. That's all, Frisco," said Tiffany.

"Sounds like a bank transaction," murmured Frisco. "What did you say this is ... Tee something?"

"Teeline shorthand."

"Got it. You're absolutely sure of the message?"

"I'm sure. It's different from Gregg shorthand because Teeline is based more on the alphabet than phonetics. Someone who knows Gregg wouldn't be able to read this right besides Teeline is used in Britain mostly. Lucky for you I once dated a BBC correspondent and he taught me the basics," said Tiffany handing the paper back to Frisco.

"I didn't know you did shorthand."

"Reporters have to get information down fast, sweetie. Time is money," said Tiffany. She waved as she saw Anna approaching. "Oh, thank god, she's here. I was about to drag her out of the Villa. Anna just hates this sort of thing." She picked up the walkie talkie and said into it. "Bluejay to Mockingbird, Red Robin is accounted for. Late but she's here. Come get her before she backs out."

Maxie's voice replied, "On my way, Bluejay."

Frisco's eyebrows rose with every word of the conversation. "You running an operation, Tiff?"

"We do pick up SOME things over the years living with you spy types," said Tiffany putting down the walkie talkie. "Maxie is putting her all into this, Frisco. You realize that don't you?"

"Yeah. Of course. It's a ... a little frightening to see how single-minded she can be," said Frisco. "She's got those designers terrified back there. Her schedule is the boss."

Tiffany grinned. "Reminds me of someone but I can't place who."

"That's all Felicia and ... and Mac's doing. I do tell Maxie I appreciate this every chance I see her," said Frisco.

"Just spend time with her and she'll come around."

"I'm trying."

"While investigating messages from 2008? Really?" asked Tiffany.

"I said I found this thing in my stuff and I was curious. That's all. With your help, the mystery is solved." Frisco folded the paper and tucked it into his back pocket. "Thank you very much."

"I'll ignore for now that you can't look me in the eye."

"It's nothing important."

Tiffany's tone turned sharp and she held Frisco's gaze. "THIS is your LAST chance. For Maxie's sake, don't screw it up. Got THAT message?"

"Loud and clear."

"You better or I tell you know who. None of them are gonna be happy with you." Tiffany's mood lifted as Anna walked up the stairs. "We all want the best for you, Frisco. You have to leave the business behind. Ice cold turkey. That's the only way to go."

"That's what I'm doing," insisted Frisco. He cleared his voice loudly and said, "Anna, you made it."

"Can we get this over with? Why a fitting? Don't you know my size, Tiff?" asked Anna a little cross. "I feel utterly out of my element and-"

A shrill voice cut through the air. Through one of the doors leading to the balcony burst an olive-skinned slender man of average height with dark curls coiffed to perfection dressed in head to toe black.

"How did this happen?" said the man before pacing in a circle as anxious assistants hovered desperate to help this genius of modern couture - Marcello di Baldo. "This is ... is unacceptable. A disaster!"

Maxie came sprinting through the doors. "What's happened? We are three minutes behind schedule here!"

"I am sorry, Ms. Jones. I must withdraw from the show," said Marcello.

"W-w-withdraw? Over my dead body!"

"But I cannot proceed. Not like this."

Maxie took a deep breath and pressed her clipboard to her chest. She wiped all traces of annoyance from her face. "Not like what, Marcello?"

Tiffany, Anna and Frisco watched Maxie in action.

"I cannot show my masterpiece," said Marcello with all the dramatic flare of his ancestry. "Oh, why did I come? To be tortured like this!"

Maxie took a deep breath. "Okay. Sounds like you're missing a model."

"YES! I cannot find any of the ones you gave me who can do my dress the ... the JUSTICE it deserves. This town is full of ... of milk animals."

"Cows?" asked Frisco. "That's a bit insensitive."

Tiffany hissed. "Quiet. Everything he makes is divine. Women stay in rich marriages just to be able to afford his clothes."

"What size model do you need? I'll get one ASAP," said Maxie.

"Size zero. But size is a ... is a ..." Marcello struggled for words. "Is secondary to the woman herself."

"That puts me well out of the running. Drat!" said Tiffany.

"There's such a thing as a size zero?" asked Frisco.

"Even I know that one," said Anna.

"I could ask Dianara to-" began Maxie.

"No! Dia is a goddess of beauty among women but my dress requires someone unknown yet full of life experiences," said Marcello. "Someone who can command attention but does not seek it yet no one can ignore her. Her eyes are pools of wisdom and temptation."

Maxie spied Anna standing between Tiffany and Frisco. "Someone who has seen and done everything yet has a ... a mystique about her? A woman of mystery perhaps?"

"Yes, that is perfection. That is the woman that I seek but it is impossible." Marcello clapped his hand and began to issue instructions. "Pack everything. We leave for Milan immediately!"

"Whoa! Wait!" Maxie scampered to Anna and took her hand. She dragged an unsuspecting Anna to Marcello's side. "Here she is. Port Charles' own woman of mystery."

The designer looked at Anna. He saw a pretty woman with disheveled hair under a fedora, wearing a long black wool coat over jeans and spotless boots. "You have good taste in shoes, madam, but you are not the right ... shape." He exhorted his assistants to hurry their preparations.

Wisely, Anna held her tongue and made no comment. She made to walk away but was prevented by Maxie.

Maxie whipped off the fedora casually tossing it in Frisco's direction. With unusual strength, she peeled the coat off Anna revealing her attire of baggy brown pullover cable sweater and jeans. "She's too has a shape. She's ... she's just the right model for you, Marcello. She needs your vision because ... because she has no fashion sense at all."

"Hey!" said Anna.

Maxie bunched Anna's hair in the back. "We can put her hair up or change the style to frame her face, Marcello. Use a little imagination. No, a lot of imagination."

Knowing Maxie was sinking, Tiffany came forward to help keep her afloat. She grabbed the hem of Anna's sweater and began to pull it up. "Let's just see what's under this shall we?"

"Wait a minute!" protested Anna.

Tiffany said into Anna's ear. "Negative style points."

"Alex is the fashionable one not me," Anna whispered back.

"Did you dress in the dark again?"

"Sleepy. I grabbed whatever. I am out of here. Find someone else."

"Do this for the children, especially YOURS!"

It took both Tiffany and Maxie to get the pullover sweater over Anna's head. The unexpected sartorial assault left Anna annoyed and feeling exposed in her loose white tee shirt. As more of Anna emerged, Marcello stopped issuing commands and began to take more interest.

"Turn around, madam," ordered Marcello.

Anna stood rooted to the spot.

Maxie turned pleading eyes to Anna and said, "Neglected goddaughter, remember?"

With a sigh, Anna turned around quickly.

Marcello began to run his hands along Anna's waist and hips.

Seeing Anna's eyes narrowing, Frisco said softly, "Temper, temper."

Anna glared at him.

Frisco smirked. "I need good examples of civilian behavior don't I?"

Marcello pulled taut the back of Anna's tee shirt causing Anna to gasp. "You DO have a shape!"

Maxie whispered urgently to her godmother, "AFTER. Kill him after the show."

Marcello snapped his fingers. Assistants began to swarm around him and Anna. "Take her!"

"What? Take me where?" asked Anna as she resisted attempts to lead her away.

Maxie and Tiffany took a hand each and followed the swarm back through the closed doors. Marcello trailed exhorting words like "Transformation! Vision! Masterpiece!" Before the door closed, Marcello looked at Frisco and added, "We have much work. We do not wish to be disturbed."

Frisco chuckled. "Maybe I ought to warn Robert. Nah. The old man needs the excitement. Payback's a bitch."

Donely and Devane Public Relations Agency

Sean signed the last document needing his signature. He was about to start reading a new report when a knock came at his door. His personal secretary Faith poked her head in.

"Sean? There are two gentlemen here who say they're old friends of yours," said Faith.

"Who?" asked Sean.

"They didn't seem inclined to give a name if you know what I mean."

"Let them in."

Sean barely kept his surprise in check as Chase Masters and Arnold Vandenberg strolled in. "Faith, thank you. Skip the coffee for my guests. This is just a brief visit. And you never saw them here, understand?"

Faith nodded and closed the door behind her.

Inside, Sean seethed with emotion but outwardly kept his composure. "Showing up here was a supremely bad idea. I assume you have a good reason?"

Chase nodded. "I apologize for the surprise but this opportunity fell into our laps."

Sean motioned for the two men to take their seats. before taking his own. "What opportunity?"

"Arn and I will be presenting a mission proposal to the WSB Executive Committee in a few days," said Chase.

"Bureau HQ is in New York City not Port Charles," said Sean.

"We're here to work on the report and to meet to key pieces of the new project," said Chase.

"Who?"

"Robert and Anna Scorpio."

"No way," said Sean evenly. "They are off limits. That was our deal."

"We just want to meet them like we met you. Get to know them," replied Chase.

Arnold added, "They already know we're here anyway."

"They do?" asked Sean.

"Based on how I was ushered out of town on my last visit, I think it's likely I'm a flagged individual. This is their town, their turf," said Arnold.

"We got tickets to this theater fundraiser," said Chase. "A public event in a public place. Who can object?"

"Why? What's this briefing have to do with Anna and Robert?" asked Sean feigning ignorance.

"Everything. If we execute this mission and get the right results, the Gem group will be given access to Guardian," said Chase. "Robert Scorpio is the liaison between Guardian and the Executive Committee."

"You sound awfully positive about that?" asked Sean.

Chase grinned. "Heard it with my own ears. Witnessed the committee and Scorpio talking about it. In good detail."

"So you want to ingratiate your way into their good graces?" asked Sean.

"No harm in it." Chase glanced at Arnold then looked at Sean. "Given what happened with their daughter and our part in it, I want to apologize in person. It's only right. And, of course, I want to see how our two organizations can work together. Don't deny that they have an organization. They have one and they have good people in it. We can help each other."

"No matter what I say you're going to be like a dog with a juicy bone about this," said Sean.

"We want to clear the air first and foremost," said Arnold. "Other stuff is ... is extra."

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained," said Chase. "You always said to strike while the iron is hot. It's scorching, Sean. We have to do this here and now."

"All right. Go to the fundraiser. Keep me out of it. You two are on your own. I will tell you that Anna and Robert will be on guard. Charm doesn't work well with either of them," said Sean. "Anything else?"

"As part of this new project, we will be reactivating Project Minerva and-" began Chase.

In soft, dangerous tones, Sean said, "I shut it down for a reason. How many are you going to sacrifice to try to prove a point?"

Both younger men were contrite.

"We won't be doing the same process. Too much risk. We have something else in mind," said Arnold. "Casualties will be minimal."

"And we are stepping up efforts to locate Dr. Sinclair," put in Chase. "That is top priority."

"He's proven rather elusive," said Arn. "We know that the Scorpios are looking for him, too. Our objective is to find him first."

"And, if you find him, then what?" asked Sean.

Chase's expression hardened, "Then we welcome him into our family and get his cooperation by any means necessary. We will get Compound A and X. Minerva needs them to succeed and Minerva will open the doors to Guardian for us. Whatever it takes, I'm going to make it happen."

End of Book 3