Written in 67 minutes. I went over because I ended up writing a Jake thing later that I refused to take out, lol.

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PCPD: Commissioner’s Office

“It’s not getting any easier,” Robert told Lucky as they left Mac’s office and walked down the hallway towards the squad room. “I don’t know if the daily meetings are helping or hurting.”

“Neither,” Lucky muttered. There hadn’t been anything new in days — waiting on DNA reports to come back, outside vendors were being bitchy about turning over employee lists—

He tossed his case file on his desk. “All we have is a general build. And it’s average. He could be anyone.” He looked at Robert. “How can four people be dead, and we have nothing?”

“It’s what makes this job difficult, Spencer.” Robert leaned against the desk. “You have crimes committed in public. Well-liked victims who had large family networks ready to step up and help if only they knew anything. We have DNA. We know how the crimes were committed, down to the minute on this last one. And yet—”

“Nothing.”

“There’s a case out in California,” Robert continued. “It came through the FBI office when I was doing some WSB work out there. Guy raping and killing his way through different areas. Still unsolved, mind you. He’s left witnesses. Nearly got caught a few times. And people are terrified in their homes.” He shook his head. “They have his DNA, too, Spencer. Sometimes you can have all the pieces except the most important.”

Lucky put his head in his hands. “I just—I keep looking at all these names, and these lists, and I’m writing up damn warrants because the security company from the college doesn’t want to turn over their employee list or who they contract to. How do I get them to cooperate?”

“You let the court do its work. Or—” Robert considered the question, then leaned to the side to dig his phone out of his pocket. “You leave an anonymous tip with the Herald’s crime beat reporter about the lack of support.”

Lucky sat back. “We’re not supposed to leak anything—”

“No, we’re not.” Robert shrugged, then straightened. “Ah, well. If Mac asks, you’ll be able to say you didn’t know anything.” He picked up Lucky’s case folder, flipped through it. “This the warrant for the security company?”

“Yes—”

“I’ll just make a copy.” He lifted his brows. “For my own records.”

Lucky watched Robert leave the room, then shook his head. Robert Scorpio, the legend, could get away with bending the rules. And maybe it would shift something loose. He pulled out his own cell phone and found a few voicemails, including from Lulu.

He listened to it, then sighed. Time to put away the cop, and pull out the brother. He’d put this off too long.

Scorpio House: Living Room

“Uncle Mac.” Robin got to her feet as the man in question came through the door. “Good. You’re, uh, here.”

“Is there anything new?” Maxie asked, lunging to her feet, her eyes wide, desperate. “Did you find something?”

“No. We’re working some leads, but nothing yet.” He hung up his jacket, then came over to the sofas, kissing Maxie on her forehead, then hugging Robin. “Sorry I’m later than I wanted to be, but—”

“No, I appreciate—I appreciate you making time. I have something I wanted to tell both of you. So, uh—” Robin gestured. “Just, um, sit down, I guess.”

Mac pulled Maxie down next to him. “Are you all right? Is—”

“I’m fine. I’m just—” She laughed a bit nervously, then bit her lip. “I have something to tell you,” she repeated. “And it’s good news. I’m—I’m pregnant. I’m going to have a baby.”

Mac stared at her for another long moment as Maxie’s eyes widened. “Pregnant,” he repeated.

“Is that—I mean, you’re happy, so obviously it’s safe, but um—” Maxie jumped up to embrace her. “Congratulations. Right? You said it was good.”

“It is good.” Robin hugged her back, relieved to see her cousin smiling. “And it’s relatively safe. Kelly’s keeping a close watch. There’s some medications I have to take, some extra testing. But my viral load is basically invisible. Rate of transmission is almost nothing. I mean, there’s always a risk, but—”

“Pregnancy takes two,” Mac said, slowly rising to his feet. His brow furrowed. “Patrick?”

“Y-yes. And before you say anything—Patrick is completely on board. He’s…he took it  better than I did,” Robin admitted. She smiled. “He’s already bought out the local supply of pregnancy books. He keeps one on his locker for quick reference, Uncle Mac. He’s not running from this.”

“Uh huh. I thought you’d broken up because he didn’t want kids.”

“We did. It wasn’t planned.” Robin crossed her arms. “After Georgie, I just—I needed someone,” she said softly. “And he was there.”

“But if he didn’t want kids,” Maxie said, “how do you know he’ll stick? I mean, my dad wanted them and you don’t see him here,” she said darkly.”

“I don’t know,” Robin admitted, and Mac’s expression darkened. “He’s said he will. And I believe that he believes it. It’s just…we’re feeling our way through this. Patrick is not the bad guy, Uncle Mac. Promise me you won’t harass him. This isn’t the 1950s. I make really good money, I could do this on my own—”

“You aren’t on your own.” Maxie lifted her chin. “I’m here. Your baby will be the best-dressed kid in the state. And Uncle Mac will be the best grandpop. He’ll probably give the kid a police escort, and—” Her voice faltered. “Georgie would have babysit every day if you’d asked, but she can’t do that so I will. I’ll be the best aunt ever.”

“I know you will, sweetie.” Robin rubbed Maxie’s back, her own throat a bit tight at the thought of Georgie who absolutely would have been supportive and present. “This is good, Uncle Mac,” she repeated to her uncle. “I wanted to be a mother, and I never thought I could be.”

“It wasn’t planned,” Mac said. “Is Patrick…?”

“He’s been tested. All systems are good. He’ll have to be tested a few more times, um, you know how that works.” And they were both aware that Robin hadn’t tested positive during her first test. That had come later, just before Stone’s death. “It’s different now. Stone had AIDs, Uncle Mac. The odds of me testing positive were so high—Patrick isn’t any more likely to test positive than the baby.”

“Okay. Okay. I wasn’t—” Mac took Robin by the shoulders. “I wasn’t expecting this. But you look happy. And Patrick’s…I might want to kill him,” he admitted, “but I’m glad he’s taking it well. I reserve the right to hurt him later.”

“You won’t need to. I’m happy. I am.”

Mac folded her into his arms, and Robin clung to him tightly. “I’m so glad I get to share this with you. You’ve always been there for me, and I couldn’t imagine you not being there for my child.”

“I will always be there for you.” He kissed the side of her head, then reached out pull Maxie into the hug. “For my girls. The best I can.”

It was a sweet moment, Robin thought later, but they were all aware that someone was missing, and it was a piece of their hearts that would never be filled.

But life would go on. There wasn’t much choice in that.

PCPD: Squad Room

Sam stepped up to the desk. “Hey. It’s Detective Rodriguez, right? Do you remember me?”

The cop smirked. “Yeah, I remember you. Did you need something?”

Sam wanted to smack him for the way he was looking at her — probably remembering her humiliating trips to the PCPD to visit Jason while he’d been held for Alcazar’s murder — or even worse, that terrible day she’d had to give testimony and it had been broadcast on local television—

She lifted her chin. “I wanted to check the status on a report I made a few weeks ago. On Halloween.”

Rodriguez lifted a brow, then went over to the computer at the desk, tapped a few keys. “I don’t see any report with your name on it from that date. What was the charges?”

“Well, I don’t know the legal term. But Jason Morgan assaulted me and threatened my life. I came in that night. I made the report to Lucky Spencer.” She sighed. “I suppose he was distracted with everything that happened after that, you know? He was going to pull tapes from Kelly’s. It happened in the courtyard.”

Rodriguez looked back at her. “Spencer took the report?”

“Yes. I gave him a statement and everything. Do you think it fell through the cracks? I’d understand, of course.”

“Well, if he took the statement, he might not have gotten around to putting it in the computer. Why don’t you come with me, and we’ll get that done now?”

“That’s great. I appreciate this. Thank you so much.”

Sam followed the detective into the interrogation room, careful to keep her expression somber even though she was beaming on the inside.

Sometimes it was almost too easy to cause a little chaos.

Wyndemere: Foyer

Nikolas dragged the heavy front door open, then scowled when he saw his brother on the other side. “Remind me to tell the launch pilot you’re banned from the island,” he muttered. He started to close the door, but Lucky slapped it open.

“What, like you’ve banned Lulu? Nikolas—”

Nikolas just rolled his eyes, stalked back towards the study where he poured himself another drink. “You find out who murdered Emily? Because that’s the only way you’re getting back—”

“You blame me because Emily wasn’t speaking to you at the end. That’s fine. I blame me for it, too. I didn’t reach out, and I made mistake after mistake,” Lucky bit out. “She was my oldest friend, and she could barely look me in the eye the last time I saw her. Do you think that’s easy for me, Nikolas? Do you think that I don’t hate myself for letting it get there?”

“Then why—”

“Because I didn’t know it was the last time I’d see her!” Lucky exploded. “I didn’t know that the last words we’d ever exchange would be angry. It kills me! To know that I was still so damned selfish, such a damned coward, that I couldn’t take a step back and see what I was doing to the people around me—Lulu was so upset by what I’d done she testified against me, and Elizabeth—” His voice broke. “You heard her on the stand, Nikolas. I saw for the first time what I’d done to her, how all of this came back to the things I’d done—”

“So you agree. This is your fault—”

“My actions are my fault. I didn’t call Emily after the custody hearing. I buried myself in work because I thought if I found Georgie’s killer, I’d feel better. I’d feel like a person again, not some damned drug addict who destroyed his family at every turn—” Lucky’s hand fisted as he raised it. “But you don’t get to stand there and act like you’re the only one who lost Emily. We all did—”

“I don’t give a shit about your guilt. I hope you drown in it. Better yet—” Nikolas rummaged around in his desk. “Here. Here—” He threw a bottle at his brother, and it hit the ground, rolled across the floor.

Lucky stared down at the orange bottle, then raised his eyes back to his brother. “What is that?”

“Pain meds I never took after the hostage crisis. Go ahead. Take some pills, Lucky. That’s all you’re good for—”

Lucky crouched down, picked up the bottle. The pills — no more than ten of them — rattled inside. He stared at them. Oxycotin. His drug of choice. They’d made everything go away once. He could float on that sweet wave of nothing. There’d no pain. No guilt. No hurt. No sickness in his stomach. He wouldn’t even remember how hard it had been to go to the penthouse. To see evidence of his sons living there. To remember how the diamond on Elizabeth’s finger had glinted in the light.

He wouldn’t have to remember losing Emily.

“It took a long time for us to become brothers,” Lucky said quietly. He raised his eyes to Nikolas who had gone to the fireplace, was staring into the flames. “Mostly because of me. Because I refused to see past your last name. To look past everything I knew about your family. But Emily made me see you differently. And Elizabeth. They cared about you, so I could see something worth knowing.”

He walked across the room, set the bottle on the desk. Unopened. “They made us brothers, you know. But now they’re gone. Elizabeth can’t stand to look at me, and Emily’s dead. And you and me—we’re done now.”

“Lucky—”

“We’re done.”

Morgan Penthouse: Living Room

Elizabeth pushed open the door, and immediately laughed. “What are you doing?”

Jason, seated on the floor, his back against the arm of the sofa, looked up with a half-pained, half-amused expression. He held Jake around the middle, letting the infant’s legs dangle to the ground. And Cameron was marching up and down in one spot. “Cameron is trying to teach Jake to walk.”

“Walk? He’s still figuring out how to crawl.”

“Mommmy.” Cameron looked at her with an almost pitying expression. “He needs to know how legs work.”

“Uh huh.” Elizabeth tossed her purse and the mail she’d grabbed from the security downstairs on the desk, then dropped down to her knees. “Do you know how you learned?”

“I got up and walked. I very smart, Mommy.”

“You are.” She reached for Jake and Jason released him. “But babies have to figure out all their body parts. So first—” She laid Jake on his tummy, and immediately he squawked. “He’ll learn how to pull himself around and develop his muscles.”

“That takes too long.” Cameron scowled. “Tell him to learn faster.”

“Oh, okay, we’ll try that.”

Jake, still unhappy about being dumped on the floor, raised himself on his tiny fists, then seemed to pause as his little palms flattened against the floor.

“Hey, Jake.” His head twisted to look at her. Elizabeth gestured with her hands, beckoning towards her. “Can you come here? Come here.”

Jake furrowed his brow, looking so much like his father, then he wiggled his body, and then—he moved. He rocked and wiggled, dragging himself towards his mother. Elizabeth clapped. “That’s it!”

“He’s like a worm,” Cameron said, a bit mystified. He wiggled his own body. “See? Just like that—”

But it worked, and Jake reached Elizabeth. She scooped him up in her arms, hugging and kissing his face. “That’s my baby. Now—” She set him back on his tummy, and he grunted, unhappy. “Go to Daddy.”

Jason grinned. “Jake?”

At the sound of the familiar, deeper voice, Jake twisted his head. Then his face broke out in a grin that seemed to match his father. Jason held out his hands. “Jake.”

He wiggled his little body until he reached Jason who did the same as Elizabeth, scooping him up. Elizabeth beamed. “He’s scooting!”

Cameron shook his head, as if sad for them. He wasn’t impressed by his little brother. “I go play. This not fun.” He rolled his eyes and headed for his toy bin. Jason got to his feet, setting Jake at his side so he could haul Elizabeth up.

“He’s not impressed, but I am—” Elizabeth kissed Jake’s face again, then leaned up to kiss Jason. “Hey.”

“Hey. I tried to get Cameron interested in that earlier, but maybe we needed two adults.” Jason stroked Jake’s back. “I remember the first time Michael moved on his own. I wasn’t even sure how it happened, but—”  He looked down at his son and Jake touched his face. “Do you think he’ll skip walking and go straight to running like Cam?”

“God help us.” Elizabeth laughed, then started to sort through her mail. Her smile faded as she took in a manila envelope with the court house as a return address.

“What is it?” Jason asked, watching her open the envelope.

“Official divorce papers,” Elizabeth said. “It’ll be final on November 28.” She sighed. “All of that seems like a lifetime ago, doesn’t it?” But it had only been three weeks since the custody hearing. Two weeks since they’d lost Emily. She exhaled slowly. “Diane left me a message, too, while I was at work. Adoption paperwork was accepted. They’re going to be in touch to schedule a homestudy.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” She flashed him a smile, then touched Jake’s shoulder. “It’s just…Robin and I were talking the day of the funeral, and it’s…it sneaks up on you. Life keeps moving forward, and you feel guilty. Because I have this gorgeous baby who is doing something new every day, and I have you, and you’re perfect. And Cam. And I just—I want Emily to be here, too. And she won’t be.” She swiped at her face, turned away, so that Jake didn’t see her.

Jason wrapped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her back against his chest. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “I want her here, too.”

“I want a small wedding,” she murmured. “Just you and me and our families. I don’t need a party. Or a celebration. Or even a dress. And no maid of honor.” She turned to look at him. “Because that’s supposed to be Emily. Is that—is that okay?”

“That’s fine. I just want to be married to you. But Emily wouldn’t want you to give up anything you wanted—”

“I’m not. I just want you and the boys and the people who love us. That’s all I need.” She slid her arm around his waist, tucked herself into his side. “Before Christmas. Okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

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