Chapter Seven: Gone Fishin'
the cabin
Lucy pushed the door of the cabin open with her foot, holding one arm far away from her body as she walked in. She shifted Christina on her hip, wrinkling her nose as she looked from the burden in her hand to her baby. "I know, I know, Muffinhead, these fish stink. And," she noted in alarm, "they're dripping on our nice semi-clean floor!" She looked around, then grabbed a newspaper scrap from the corner near the fireplace, and lay the dripping fish down on them. Christina giggled and reached out to play with the shiny new toys, and Lucy did a quick hip swivel to keep her away from them. "No, no, no, Christina! Those are dirty, angel; we can catch 'em, but we don't get to play with them. And, before we find you something better to play with," Lucy rose, still holding her daughter with her clean hand, "Mommy needs to wash her nasty, grimy, smelly hand."
"Here." Lucy turned around to meet Jerry's amused eyes as he held out a towel. After a moment, she took it grudgingly, wiping her fishy hand clean and then letting Christina down, being careful to keep her away from the fish.
After watching her daughter for a few moments, satisfied that she'd forgotten about the shiny 'toys' by the fireplace, Lucy looked down at what was in her hand. Her face colored with rage. "Jerry!" She stormed over to where he had retreated -- the corner of the cabin that had become 'his', and threw the fishy cloth in his face. "Ooooh! That was a three hundred dollar sweater!" Lucy stormed, glaring at him, both hands on her hips.
He shrugged, his eyes twinkling. "Looked like a towel to me, luv. You shouldn't have put it in the rags pile," Jerry nodded to a pile of clothing on 'her' side of the room.
Lucy advanced on him, her eyes flashing. "We don't have a rags pile!" she growled. "Those are my clothes!" Jerry laughed, his expression obviously unrepentant; Lucy was tempted to kick him in the shins. Hard. She held back, for now, speaking through gritted teeth. "You could at least thank me for catching dinner."
Jerry studied her a moment, his expression clearly stating that he hadn't thought she'd even known which end of a fishing pole you threw in the water. "Is that," he nodded at the fish, "dinner?"
"As soon as you clean it and cook it, it will be," Lucy said, sweetly. "You can't live with Scott Baldwin and not know learn how to fish. But, I always leave--" she broke off, her face shadowing slightly. "I mean," she began again, her voice slightly more halting, "I always left the cleaning part for him."
"I'll clean 'em," Jerry said briskly, standing up. "I'll even cook 'em. But, I won't eat 'em. I don't like fish; never have. Mum and Dad think it's a sacrilege; we must have had fish for dinner at least twice a week growing up. Jax loved it, but I never could stomach the slimy things. Never much mattered though," he shrugged. "Only meant more for the golden boy." Jerry picked up the bundle, starting to scale them neatly at the hearth, his back carefully to Lucy.
Lucy looked up at him, from the floor where she had settled beside Christina. "I'm sorry, Jerry; you should have told me you didn't like fish before Christina and I went fishing," Lucy said, all the fire having gone out of her voice at the tone in his.
He turned his head, flashing a grin at her. "What would you have done, instead? Gone hunting? Besides," Jerry stood up, having gathered the skin and bones into a neat bundle, "got you out of the house for a good, long while." Before Lucy could protest, he had slipped out of the door to dispose of the remains. He came back in a moment later with a few logs of firewood, and began building up a small fire in the fireplace.
Lucy watched him, intrigued despite herself by this man who was more than just a veneer of slick charm, despite what he seemed to want her to think half the time. "Jerry? Before when you said you came back to Port Charles for your family, you didn't mean Jax." Lucy spoke quietly; it wasn't a question. She pulled Christina into the V-shape her legs made, running her hand lightly over her daughter's hair. "Who were you talking about?"
Jerry was silent so long, his back to Lucy as he began to build up the fire, wrapping the fish and placing it to the side to grill when the fire got the right temperature, Lucy assumed he wasn't going to answer her, and turned her attention back to her daughter. When he finally spoke, she looked up, startled. "I have a daughter," Jerry said, still facing the fire. The only thing betraying his tension was the rigidness of his back and the total absence of humor in his tone. "I've been searching for her for the past five years, ever since I found out that she existed. I never thought, not in all this time, that she'd be right under my bloody nose." Jerry finally turned to face Lucy, and his eyes spoke of many different kinds of fire. "I came back for her."
Lucy met his eyes, her own wide. It never once occurred to her that he might not be telling the truth, not when it came to this. "A daughter? In Port Charles?" Lucy shook her head once, looking at him suspiciously. "And you didn't know when you were here, before? Jerry Jacks, why am I getting the strangest feeling about this?"
Before Jerry could answer, there was a knock at the door, causing both of them to spring up. Their eyes went to the door, then met, and of mutual accord, Jerry slipped into the dark closet, as Lucy went towards the door. She picked Christina up, holding her tightly as she called out, "Who is it?"
"My name's Blair," came the voice from the other side of the door, and Lucy's face went slack in shock. "I have a message from Sonny Corinthos."
Lucy moved quickly to the door, throwing it open, and staring at the woman on her porch. "Blair CRAMER?" Lucy said, stunned, at the exact instant Blair exclaimed, "Lucy??" After a long, incredulous gaze, Lucy moved forward, sliding her unoccupied arm around the other woman, hugging her lightly. "Blair, what are you doing here? Delivering messages for Sonny? That doesn't make any sense!"
"Neither does Lucy Coe in a cabin in the middle of nowhere," Blair retorted, looking around the room, not bothering to hide her expression of disdain. She looked back at Lucy, her green reporters's eyes flashing curiosity. "Why am I giving you messages from Sonny about leavin' the country? And," she looked at Christina a smile on her face, "who is this?"
"I'll explain, Blair, cross-my-heart and promise, I really, truly will. But," Lucy reached out to grip the other woman's arm, "what was the message?"
"To be ready to go at the end of the week. Leave all identifying documents, passport, driver's license, anything like that here, and pack one bag for yourself and one for Christina. Sonny'll take care of the rest. He'll meet you here, a couple hours after dark. Oh," Blair ended her recitation, and pulled a plain, white envelope out of her purse, "and he said to give you this."
Lucy opened the envelope, pulling out a slightly wrinkled picture. There was writing on the back, in Luke's distinctively slanted hand. It ain't blackmail, baby, he had written. Just a reminder of what you'll be givin' up. Ignore Baldwin's ugly mug. --Luke. She flipped the picture over, and gasped, quick tears coming to her eyes. Blair moved to Lucy's side, looking down at the photo of a smiling Serena and Scott, sunlight bright on both their faces. "Oh, Punkinhead," Lucy whispered; Christina grabbed for the photograph of her sister and father, babbling happily.
Blair slid an arm around Lucy's waist. "Luce?" she asked gently. "Wanna tell me what's going on? I know -- I know we haven't been as close as we were when we were young together, and that's mostly my fault. But, I've missed you, Lucy. Tell me what this," she waved her hand, indicating the cabin, "is all about; let me help."
Lucy sank down into a chair, shifting Christina to her lap, the photograph still clutched tightly in her fingers. "This," Lucky said finally, pointing to Scott, "is my husband, Scott. My best pal," she blinked back tears. "And, this is our daughter, Serena." Lucy caressed the photograph tenderly. "And this," Lucy dropped a kiss on Christina's head, "is our other daughter, Christina. Who Scott Baldwin threatened to take away from me. I won't let that happen, Blair," she looked at the other woman, her eyes flashing fiercely. "I will not lose another baby."
"And you shouldn't have to," Blair said, stroking her friend's hair with a gentle touch. "Lucy, no one deserves to lose their children 'specially not you." Blair was quiet a moment, but not for long. Waiting was not her strong suit. Neither was quiet. "But, running, Luce? That's not your style. I've known you since you were fourteen years old, and I've never seen you run from a fight, not ever. And, I've never seen you leave anyone you love," she looked pointedly at the picture, "behind."
"You don't know the whole story, Blair," Lucy protested, stubbornly. "Scott's done this before; he's taken my baby before. I lost years of Serena's life because of him. I don't trust him, Blair." Lucy turned her head away, not looking at Blair. She was quiet for a long moment. "Do you know how much you sounded like Aunt Charlene, just then?" she said finally, her voice quieter, slightly smiling.
"Can't think of a better compliment," Blair said, smiling back as she stood up. She let her hand rest on the top of Christina's head. "Take care of your Momma, baby girl," she whispered softly, running her fingers over Christina's baby-soft hair. "I'm gonna head back to town, Lucy, and tell Sonny I delivered his message. If you need me, here's my cell phone number. Or, you can call Sonny; I'm staying with him. If you do decide to leave -- don't do it without saying goodbye."
"Wait a minute," Lucy caught at Blair's hand. "Not so fast, Blair Cramer. You can't just show up at my doorstep, delivering messages from Sonny and your own little bits of advice, then disappear again without telling me exactly how you ended up here. With Sonny Corinthos, of all people. What happened to your husband? And your daughter?"
Blair smiled wickedly, deftly spinning out of Lucy's grip. "Wanna know the answers, you've got to find me and ask them. You run away, then I guess you'll never know." Her eyes twinkled at Lucy, as she disappeared out the door. "Tag, Luce!" Her voice carried out from the front porch. "You're it!"
"Blair!" Lucy called out, half-standing, then sunk back down as she heard a car start up and drive away. "You rat," she murmured, little heat behind her words. Her eyes fell on the picture still in her hand. "You too," she said, to Scott, narrowing her eyes at him as he grinned back at her from the still photograph.
"Well, well, well," came a voice from behind her, and Lucy jumped, startling Christina so that she let out a short wail. She glared at Jerry's grinning face, having forgotten he was there. Jerry looked down at the picture, then at the door the very intriguing Blair Cramer had just slipped out of, and the grin faded from his face. He turned back to Lucy, comforting Christina, and picked up the picture she had let fall. Jerry read the words on the back, then met Lucy's angry gaze. "Looks like things just got interesting."
the firehouse
"I'll get it!" Serena called over her shoulder, as she raced for the door. She flung it open, looking up expectantly at the woman standing in front of her. "Oh," she said, her face falling at the sight of anyone at her door who wasn't Lucy. "Hi. I'm Serena Baldwin. Did you want to see my Daddy?"
V grinned at the little girl, who's blue eyes were the mirror of her father's, right down to the sadness haunting them. She reached out her hand, which Serena took, in a hearty handshake. "Hi, Serena. I'm V. I did come to see your Dad, but I'm really glad to meet you, too. You have much better manners than your father."
"I know," Serena said, with a small grin. "People say that all the time. But, Daddy taught me how to shake hands; he just doesn't like to do it, always. And, he doesn't smile a lot, especially since--" She broke off with a frown, then shook her head. "Anyways, does Daddy know that you're coming? 'Cause I can go get him, if he does."
"He knows. I don't think he's too thrilled about it," V added ruefully, "but he knows. I'm going to be hanging out with him for a few days. Which is really good, because that means you and I can get to know each other. And, I'd really like to know someone with such a fantastic handshake." V smiled back at the little girl, trying her best not to let her sympathy for Serena show through; she could tell that this self-possessed child wouldn't appreciate that.
"I can help you practice your handshake," Serena offered, opening the door wider, to let V in. She watched her with a tilt of her head that was pure Scott Baldwin. "Are you one of our new goons?" she asked, dubiously, as V accidentally knocked into the side of the coffee table, spilling several of Serena's pictures to the floor.
V laughed as she bent to retrieve them. "Not exactly," she answered, kneeling on the floor. "I'm more like a babysitter than a goon. But, I was a police officer once; I could show you some pretty cool karate moves. Wow," she held up one of the drawings, "did you do these? I really like this one."
Serena slipped down beside her. "Yup. Hey, I have an idea," she looked up at V, disarmingly. "Maybe you could teach me karate, and I could teach you handshakes and make you a drawing. That would be a pretty cool deal."
"That's my girl," Scott stepped into the room from the kitchen. "A master at the bargaining table already." He spared a quick grin to Serena, which she returned, then looked at V. "What are you doing here?" he demanded rudely.
"Gosh, I was really right about the manners," V murmured in an aside to Serena, who giggled in return. She stood up, returning Scott's gaze. "Good morning to you too, Mr. Baldwin. No, I didn't have any trouble finding the place, thanks for asking. Lunch? No, no thanks; I've already eaten. But, how kind of you to offer."
"Ha-ha." Scott responded dryly. "Having you here was not my idea, you know. Alexis is under the mistaken impression that I need a watchdog." He waved his hands in the air dismissively. "Davis always was too over cautious for her own good; I promise I'll leave Spencer alone, okay? Now, can you please go away?"
"Daddy already told the goons that they have permission to beat up Mr. Spencer," Serena offered brightly, looking at V. "So, we don't have to worry about him trying to take me away like he did my Mom and Christina."
V's big eyes filled with the sympathy she'd been holding back, and she touched Serena's hair lightly, before turning back to Scott with a lifted eyebrow. He met her gaze uncomfortably, then looked down. "What was that you were saying?" V asked quietly. "About you promising to leave Luke Spencer alone?"
Scott sighed, running his hands brusquely through his hair. His gaze fell on his very precocious daughter, who was looking back and forth from V to Scott. "Hey, Applesauce, why don't you run upstairs and make sure your room's picked up, okay? Grandma's coming over later, and I don't want her to fuss at me again for letting us live like pigs in a sty."
Serena stood up reluctantly, her face starting to set stubbornly. She looked up at V, who gave her a quick reassuring smile, then started slowly towards the stairs. "Okay," she said, slowly. "How much time do I have to stay upstairs? Will you guys be done with grown-up stuff in fifteen minutes?"
Scott hid a half-laugh; if his kid was any sharper, she'd cut herself. "Yeah, kiddo," Scott said, "that should just about do it." He watched her until she disappeared up the stairs, and he heard her door shut, then turned back to V. "The last thing that little girl needs is to be more frightened than she already is!" he snapped.
"Exactly!" V shot back. "And, I'm guessing that her Daddy landing in prison for assault isn't going to relieve any of her fears!" V glared at him a moment, then took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Mr. Baldwin, I'm not here to get in your way, or step on your toes, or even to watch your manners, though they could certainly use some work." She glanced at him underneath her eyelids, then went hurriedly on. "My job is to help you, Scott. To help you find your family and bring them home. I'm just here to make sure that while Alexis is working on finding your wife and daughter, you don't do anything foolish to mess it up. Think of me as -- a traffic cop," V said brightly. "Holding a big, yellow yield sign."
Scott set his lips stubbornly, and V almost laughed, the resemblance between his expression and Serena's earlier one almost uncanny. She held her laughter back with difficulty, letting him prickle at her. "You don't look like a traffic cop," he finally said, grumpily, his eyes traveling from the hem of her short skirt to her v-necked blouse to her autumn-leaf colored hair.
V laughed. "I could wear my PCPD uniform, if it would make you feel any better."
Scott let out a short laugh, reluctantly. "Nah, having a cop trail me around all the time isn't gonna be good for my image." He ran his fingers through his hair again, then sighed. "Fine. You can stay. Just don't get in the way. And, don't -- move stuff," he added, glancing at the papers in her hand suspiciously. "Serena and I like things just the way they are."
"Yes sir, Mr. Baldwin," V gave him a snappy mock-salute, as he scowled at her and left the room, muttering something about redheads and traffic cops. V sat down thoughtfully on the couch as he left, looking around her. "Uh-huh," she said, under her breath. "The way things are is killing your daughter, Scott Baldwin. And, little as you'll admit it, you too. And, I am not about to sit by and let that happen. Not if I can do something about it." She sat still, in thought a moment longer, then stood up, walking towards the stairs. "Hey, Serena!" she called up them. "How 'bout that karate lesson? Next time Daddy decides to send you up to your room, maybe you can practice some of your moves on him!"
Morgan penthouse
Carly slung Michael's bag over her shoulder, grabbing her purse with her free hand. "We're going, Jase!" she called out, towards the back room and Jason's office. "Be back by dinner!"
"Don't make Danny drop you off, Carly," Jason walked into the room, looking at her. "Let him go in with you, this time. It's his job, Carly."
Carly rolled her eyes. "I'm just takin' Michael to visit my mother, Jason. I don't need Danny to drive me." She adjusted Michael on her hip. "We'll be fine taking a cab. All three of us," Carly let her hand drift down to her stomach, smiling almost shyly at her husband.
"Carly--" Jason began warningly, shaking his head.
"Jason, I hate driving everywhere in that damn limo," Carly interrupted him. "I know you're just protecting us, but come on, baby, we don't need it. And -- it reminds me of when I was with Sonny." Carly bit her lip as she saw his face freeze; she hated hurting him like this. But, she told herself, she was doing this for him.
"Fine," Jason finally said, reluctantly. "But call me when you get there. I need -- you know that I need to know you're safe."
"I know," Carly took a step towards him, lifting her hand to caress his face lightly. "And, I love that you worry about me. About us. I just wish you'd get that you don't have to worry, okay?" Carly sighed, knowing it was futile; Jason wasn't built that way. He would always have this need to protect her, and truth be told, she had made it that way a long time ago. If she felt kind of stifled, now, she had only herself to blame. But now, now, she was doing something to protect him. Carly lifted her lips to his, kissing him lightly. "I love you, Jase," she breathed lightly. "See you later, baby."
"Love you too," he answered, returning her kiss, then bending down to kiss Michael on the top of hs head. "Play nice with Grandma Bobbie, okay, buddy?" Michael nodded, and Jason grinned, then touched Carly's cheek lightly. "See you," was all he said, but she could read the rest of the story behind his eyes. He hated her going out without him; she hadn't done it so often after the miscarriage. And, now with the baby, his worry for her was that much deeper.
Carly blew him a kiss from the doorway, hesitating before opening the door. She hated this; she hated the way her heart started beating every time she left her apartment, just in case she were to run into Sonny, coming into his. Relief washed over her as she saw the empty hallway, relief she was very careful to hide from her husband. She waited 'til she got on the elevator to pull out her cell phone, as she dialed the cab company. "I need a cab to meet me at Harborview Towers," Carly said briskly. "I have an appointment at General Hospital in half an hour; tell your driver to hurry, okay?"
