Written in 59 minutes.

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Patrick’s Condo: Bedroom

The sunlight streamed through the blinds Patrick had forgotten to draw the night before, and Robin remembered now that he’d never gotten around to buying curtains — he’d been worried they’d look too feminine and had argued about it the last time she’d woken in his bed.

When the same bright light hit her this morning, Robin scrunched her eyes and rolled away, towards the door and the shadows that still lingered there. She bumped directly into Patrick and her eyes snapped open. He was already awake, leaning up on one elbow, his jaw shadowed from overnight growth.

Robin clutched at the dark sheets when their eyes met, waiting for embarrassment to flood her body. After all she’d showed up on his doorstep and begged him to sleep with her after refusing to accept even a modicum of comfort.

But she didn’t feel even a tinge of discomfort, only a wave of sadness that this couldn’t be every day. That she wouldn’t grow old waking in his bed.

“You really like being blinded when you wake up,” Robin said, siting up and running her hands through hair.

“Better than any alarm clock.” Patrick laid back, one hand under his head, the sheets down to his waist. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Not sure how much sleep there was,” Robin muttered, her cheeks heating when he just grinned. God she missed him. Tears stung her eyes and she looked away. She heard the rustle of sheets, then the warmth as he leaned in, his head on her shoulder.

“I’m glad you came over.”

“I probably shouldn’t have. This—” She sighed, then rested her head back against his. “This isn’t going to help me get over you.”

“Me either,” he murmured. They sat there another moment, with nothing but the sound of their breathing. She knew she had to get up, to get her clothes, to leave—

“Thank you.” Robin finally pulled away and slid out of the bed, pressing the sheet against her chest as she looked for her clothes. “I mean, you really could have said no.”

“I told you if you needed me—” He rose, and she averted her eyes as he strode nude to the dresser to get a pair of sweatpants. He tossed her black dress towards her — it had landed on his side of the bed. “Robin—”

“You were right, of course,” she said briskly, tugging the dress over her head, not bothering t locate her bra — but her panties were underneath the bed. She shimmied into them. “I wasn’t worrying enough about myself, and last night, with Maxie, then Felicia, it just—it was too much, and my brain just shut down. I couldn’t think. Or I couldn’t stop thinking.”

She sat on the bed, wondering where her pantyhose had disappeared to and if she’d ever see it again.

Patrick sat next to her. “You kept it together until after the service.”

“Until there was nothing left to do. No item to tick off the list.” Robin closed her eyes. “She was such a bright light in this world. Someone stole it. Just snuffed it right out, and I can’t wrap my head around it.”

“Because it’s obscene,” Patrick said, his tone clipped. She looked at him. “She was living her life, going home from a party. I did that a thousand times in college, in medical school. She had every right to do that. Every right to wake up with regret the next morning about how much she’d drank or what she said or how she acted. Instead—”

“She never woke up at all.” Robin closed her eyes. “I wonder if she had time to be afraid.”

“Robin—”

“And that’s a terrible thing to think about. I keep getting stuck in it, though. Thinking how scared she could have been. Laying on the ground, choking, fighting—” She pressed her hands to her face. “I want it to go away. Why doesn’t it go away?”

He didn’t answer. How could he? He just put an arm around her, folded her back in his embrace until all she feel was Patrick and her mind, blissfully, skittered to a stop. “Thank you. For making the world go stop. For a little while.”

“Any time.”

Robin smiled sadly, then got to her feet. “I wish that could be true—”

“Robin—” Patrick reached for her but she stepped back. “I’ve been thinking—maybe we can make this work—”

“No. No, don’t do that. Don’t—” Robin exhaled in a long breath. “Last night was special and you saved my sanity. But it doesn’t change anything. And I don’t want you to feel sorry for me, and talk yourself into massive life changes you don’t want—”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

She backed away when he stood. “Let’s just…” Robin licked her lips, nervously. “Let’s just put this away for a while. It’s—it’s been a lot these last few days, and I just—we should make sure we know what we want. I don’t want either of us waking up in six months realizing we made the wrong choice.” When he opened his mouth, she shook her head. “Please.”

“All right. I’ll go make some coffee.” Patrick rose, went to the door, then looked back. “Your panty hose is stuck in the blinds, by the way.”

“What?” Robin turned, scandalized to find the sheer black stockings hanging from the window. “How did that happen?”

Morgan Penthouse: Master Bedroom

Across town, another woman was having a much happier morning, waking to the sound of her son fussing on the baby monitor. She sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, then stayed right where she was for a few minutes, listening to the soft murmurs of Jason as he lifted Jake out his crib.

A few moments later, Jason appeared in their doorway, Jake in his arms. The five-month-old was wide awake, his fingers shaking a plastic ring in his. “Cameron was still asleep,” he said, climbing back into bed, still holding the baby. “And Jake woke two hours ago for a bottle.”

“Two—” Elizabeth winced, looked at the clock. It was almost eight. “Oh, man. It’s a good thing I didn’t have work today. How long have you been up?”

“Since the bottle. I tried to get him to sleep for a while longer, but—” Jason lightly bounced the infant and Jake laughed, batting his father with the plastic ring. “He wasn’t having it.”

“He’s just like you,” Elizabeth grumbled, leaning back against the headboard.”A morning person.”

“Maybe he doesn’t see the point in sleeping when there’s a whole world out there.” Jason stretched out his legs, sat the baby in his lap, his hand bracing Jake’s middle to keep him upright.

“He’ll see the point when he’s worked a double shift.” Elizabeth sighed, then dipped her head, tears stinging her eyes.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, it’s just—” Elizabeth rubbed a hand against her chest. “Six weeks ago, I felt like my life was falling apart. You were still on trial, and I wasn’t sure how things would go with Lucky. How to walk away. How to stop hurting everyone. I didn’t know if you’d forgive me for what I did — and it feels almost unfair, I guess. To be here, with everything I ever wanted.”

“Unfair to who?” Jason asked. Jake reached for Elizabeth and she cuddled him in her arms.

“I don’t know. The universe, maybe. I always end up feeling guilty when I’m happy. It always feels like it’s at someone else’s expense, and yes, I know that’s stupid. It’s just.” She rubbed her nose against Jake’s nose, and the baby laughed. “That’s right, Mommy’s just silly. She knows it.”

She looked at Jason. “I wish I could have had more courage last year. I was separated from Lucky. We actually got divorced, and if I’d just let myself—” She bit her lip. “I don’t know. If I could have just stayed divorced, not given him hope. Told the truth about Jake—it’s not healthy to keep looking back. I hurt you, I hurt myself. Cameron. And Lucky. I know we’re angry with him for how he’s handling this, but at the end of the day—” She looked at him. “I’m waking up next to the man I love with two healthy amazing little boys, and Lucky’s alone. And it doesn’t feel fair.”

Jason tipped his head. “Do you want to change your mind about Cameron and visitation?”

“No. I don’t. Because while I feel guilty for hurting and lying to him, Lucky didn’t have to make Cameron part of this. He made his choices. Just like I did last year. He made them out of anger. Jealousy. Fear. I can understand him, Jason. What he did — I did it to you. I forced you out of Jake’s life—”

“Hey—”

“I was angry that you didn’t just tell me you loved me and give me the fairy tale ending up front. You asked me to marry you and I wanted to say yes, but I knew that I would just wither away, married and in love and feeling like you wanted someone else. I was angry,” Elizabeth continued, “and I was jealous. And I was scared to be alone. So I made a terrible choice. You’ve forgiven me for it, and I promise I won’t keep bringing it up.”

“But you feel some pity for Lucky,” Jason said slowly.

“More than he probably deserves, I guess, but he didn’t deserve to be lied to anymore than you did. And I don’t know how make any of it go away without hurting one of you. It should be me suffering. Not Lucky. And not you.” She made a face. “I’m sorry. We were having a nice morning—”

“It’s only been six weeks,” Jason cut in, taking the plastic rings Jake handed him, then giving them back as soon as the baby pouted because he’d had second thoughts. “I don’t expect you to forget about Lucky. Or cut him out of your heart overnight. You loved him. You married him. Cameron still thinks of him as a father.”

“You’re too nice—”

“Being angry doesn’t solve anything,” Jason said. “And maybe it’s easier for me because I had a chance to claim Jake and I didn’t do that. I could have changed things, too, Elizabeth. The only person here who couldn’t have stopped any of this is Lucky. So, yeah, for that, I can have some patience.” He paused. “But for me, it stops that day in the park. It stops when he threatened to have us investigated for murder. He’s the one making the choices now, Elizabeth. Let him be the one that lives with the consequences.”

“You’re right.” She smiled, then lifted Jake in the air, “That’s enough of that, don’t you  think, Jake?” She laughed as the baby giggled and waved his arms.

“See? He agrees.” On the baby monitor, Cameron stirred. “I’ll go start breakfast,” he told Elizabeth, kissing her forehead.

“Sounds perfect.”

PCPD: Squad Room

Spinelli took a deep breath, spied the man he was looking for across the room and started towards him. Don’t call him Detective Dingus, don’t call him Detective Dingus—

“Spinelli—” Lucky frowned as the hacker approached. He leaned back in his chair. “Did you think of something else?”

“No. But the Jackal thought if he came by, then, uh, the Dashing Detective might have a question to ask. Something for the Jackal to do. A way to help.”

“Dashing Detective,” Lucky repeated, then raised his brows. “Is that your nickname for me?”

“Of course.”

“Really.” Lucky folded his arms, smirked. “You’re living with my ex-wife. You’ve met Cameron and Jake. And you’re telling me that’s how you think of me?”

Spinelli scrunched his nose. “Uh, no. Not really.”

“What is it, then? I’m curious,” Lucky added. “I’ve heard the ones you’ve come up for my sister. And for Maxie.”

“Detective Dingus,” Spinelli muttered, his cheeks heating. “If you don’t want the Jackal’s help, you could say that—”

Lucky hooked his foot around the chair by his desk and pushed it out. “Take a seat, Spinelli. Please,” he added when Spinelli hesitated. “Detective Dingus sounds more like it. You call Cam Little Dude, don’t you?”

“Still in workshop. Thinking of changing to Little Zoom Master, but it’s not right.” Spinelli stared at his fingers. “You’re making fun of me.”

“I’m not. What did you call Georgie?” Lucky wanted to know.

“Lots of things. Insightful One. The Wise One.” His voice cracked. “Faithful Friend. She was the best of friends. Best of humans. That’s why the Jackal must help her. I left her. I went home that night.”

“You feel responsible,” Lucky said. Spinelli nodded, just a quick jerking motion of his chin. “I get you. Once upon a time, I was supposed to hang out with a friend at a dance. I changed my mind, made a date with someone else. My friend was sad, so she skipped the dance. Someone hurt her. And if I hadn’t broken my promise, it never would have happened.”

“So you see why the Jackal must assist in any way possible—”

“I do. And if I have a way for you to help,” Lucky said, “I’ll let you know. But for now, Spinelli, I want you to remember what a great kid Georgie was. She wouldn’t blame you, would she?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Spinelli muttered.

“Matters a little. You don’t like parties much, do you?’

“No, but—”

“So Georgie said it was okay. Go head home, Spinelli. I got Chelsea with me. We’re good. That’s what she told you, you said.”

Spinelli’s eyes glittered with tears. “Should have been there.”

“Maybe I’d have another body in my morgue, then Spinelli. Maybe I’m telling Jason that the kid he cares about is dead. You think that would make this better for him? You think he wouldn’t wonder how he could have stopped it? Do you want Jason to feel guilty?”

“N-No.” Spinelli closed his eyes. “You make an excellent point. Stone Cold usually takes on the burdens of the world. The Jackal must reflect on this.”

“I promise you, Spinelli, that I am doing everything I can to find out who hurt Georgie and Chelsea. They were your friends, and they matter. If I think of something you can do or tell me, you’ll be the first call. But for now, go home.”

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