Dream a Little Dream

Chapter 49

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?”

Bobbie Spencer was startled out of her thoughts by a smiling Patrick Drake, holding a lunch tray and looking down at her. The General Hospital cafeteria was packed, with no open tables.

“It is now, Doctor,” Bobbie said with her warmest smile.

This was the first time Patrick had approached Bobbie outside of a work situation. He'd danced awkwardly around her at first, knowing her history with his father, Noah. But when he realized she had no interest in gossiping about it, he started to warm up to her. He saw the respect she had from her nurses, and the doctors as well.

Still, Patrick was surprised his father would have been interested in her, as Bobbie was decidedly unlike Patrick's late mother. Where the late Mrs. Drake was gentle, graceful and patrician, Bobbie was vivacious, earthy and passionate.

“Thanks,” he said, sitting down and putting his paper napkin on his lap, just as his mother had trained him to do all through his childhood.

“How are you doing so far, Doctor?” Bobbie asked.

“Please, you can call me Patrick here,” Patrick said. “Considering our connection and all...”

He broke off awkwardly, not sure if he really wanted to go there.

“Look, I can tell something's troubling you about your dad,” Bobbie said. “I have nothing but good feelings for him, so don't feel like you have to tiptoe around me about him for any reason. If I can help, I'd be glad to. If it's something you don't want to talk about, that's fine, too.”

Patrick smiled in relief. “Thanks for that,” he said. “I'm really not ready to talk about it. Nothing personal, it's just ... hard.”

“All right,” Bobbie said with a sad smile. “I hope things work out. He still has friends here.”

“I met one one of them my first week,” Patrick said. “I went over to a blues club and the bartender said Dad saved his life.”

“You met Hutch!” Bobbie said. “That's my brother Luke's place. Hutch ... that's a long story. But it was pretty exciting. There was a lot of exciting stuff back then, much of it involving my brother.”

“I remember Dad and my great-uncle Martin talking about something called the Ice Princess?” Patrick said. “I was a kid and didn't pay attention, so I'm not sure what that was about.”

Bobbie laughed. “My brother again,” she said. She gave him a brief rundown of the Ice Princess affair, and how it ended.

“Wait a minute,” Patrick said in a low voice. “Is that also ... Stefan Cassadine? How'd that work out where he could come here and not be Public Enemy Number One?”

“He wasn't involved in that,” Bobbie said. “He was still in school. It was his father and uncles. Best not to mention it around the hospital, by the way. Stefan, his half-sister Alexis, his nephew Nikolas, who is my brother's stepson – gee, another long story there – weren't involved, so we don't hold it against them now.”

“Ooookay,” Patrick said. “That sounds like one heck of a story.”

“You'll hear more about it,” Bobbie said. “So, where are you living? I don't have any vacancies at the Brownstone, but if you're in need of someplace I may be able to help you look.”

“No, thanks,” Patrick said. “I'm at the Lady Jane just for about another month or so. I bought a place and it's being renovated. Previous owner's taste ran too much towards 'I Need Prozac' for me.”

“Really? Where?”

Patrick described the building. Bobbie's jaw dropped.

“You're in the penthouse?” she asked.

Patrick stiffened. “Yes, I know about the previous owner,” he said.

“I can see why you'd want to redecorate,” Bobbie said. “I liked Sonny once, a long time ago, but he was ... troubled. And it all caught up with him, sadly. Boy, did you get a place with history!”

“There's more?”

“I don't think of it as Sonny's place,” Bobbie said. “I remember it as Robert's place. And before that, Tracy Quartermaine lived there when she was married to Mitch Williams. I think. Or was it the place across the hall? I'm not sure.”

“Robert?” Patrick asked.

“Robert Scorpio,” Bobbie said. “Robin Scorpio's father. Have you gotten to know her yet?”

“Not really,” Patrick said.

“She could tell you all about the place,” Bobbie said. “I bet you wondered about the secret room.”

“It was for Corinthos' crime work, right?” Patrick said.

“Nope,” Bobbie said. “It was Robert's secret sanctum. Robert was a World Security Bureau agent – total dashing James Bond type with aquamarine eyes an Australian accent that had all the girls swooning – came here for the Ice Princess case and was the one who helped Luke and Laura stop the Cassadines. Anyway, that secret room was where he had his huge computer – it took up a whole wall! – and his other high-tech spy toys. I wonder what he'd think of computers and the technology today!”

“Why do you wonder?”

Bobbie's face grew sad.

“Robert died about 15 years ago,” she explained. “Robin was just a girl. Her mother was also believed dead in what happened – it was a boat explosion. Anna wasn't found until six or seven years ago. Robin was an orphan all through her teenaged years. Robert's brother, Mac, raised her. Robert was such a good, good man ...”

Bobbie looked away, tears in her eyes. Patrick felt pity for and a connection with the administrator he so often loathed.

“Anyway,” Bobbie said. “Robin could tell you a lot about the place. A lot happened to her there. Maybe you should ask her.”

“Maybe,” Patrick said vaguely, knowing he had no intention of asking anything of the lofty Miss Scorpio. He finished his lunch quickly.

“Better get back to the ER,” he said. “Thanks for the company.”

Bobbie watched him go. He reminded her of her son Lucas, who lately veered between warmth and standoffishness on a dime, just like young Dr. Drake. She knew deep-down it was more than just starting college for Lucas. But she couldn't figure it out.

* * *

Dr. Lainey Winters walked briskly towards the nurses' station. She'd had a busy day.

Lainey's specialty was child and adolescent psychiatry. With the new school year starting, she was fielding lots of requests for evaluations of troubled students. She had a break in the early afternoon, as soon as she dropped off these files, but as soon as school was out, she was booked solid until 7 p.m.

Absorbed in organizing the file folders she was carrying, she rounded a corner without looking.

Thud!

Lainey bounced off someone, and fell onto her backside. Folders and papers flew about.

“Ow!” she cried.

“Gosh, I'm sorry!” Ned Ashton said, holding his hand out to her. “Are you all right? Can you get up?”

Lainey laughed shakily, and took his hand.

“Thanks,” she said. “I'm okay,” she looked around her. “Oh, great! Now I have to re-organize these!”

She squatted down to pick up the scattered papers and folders. Ned helped.

“Don't worry,” he said. “I won't read anything. I understand doctor-patient confidentiality.”

“That's right!” she said. “Dr. Quartermaine is your uncle.”

“And my aunt,” Ned said whimsically, referring to Monica. Lainey giggled.

“True,” she said, continuing to gather papers and folders. “Darn! I'll be lucky if I get to this today! So much for my break.”

“You're booked this afternoon?”

“Straight through 'til evening after my break,” Lainey replied.

“You need a break,” Ned said, handing her the last of the papers. “There's nothing here that won't keep for a few hours or until tomorrow, right?”

“No, I guess not,” Lainey said. “I just hate leaving stuff not done.”

“It'll be done,” Ned said in his most persuasive tone. “But you have to take care of yourself to be ready for your patients. Come on, I'll take you to lunch. There's a great Thai place over on Stanton Street. Do you have time?”

Lainey looked at her watch to hide her shy pleasure. “I have time,” she said with a smile. She was rewarded with another flash of Ned's charming dimples.

“Terrific,” he said as he walked with her back to her office so she could drop off her papers, his plan to drop in on Monica to discuss the AJ-Jason situation forgotten for the time being.

* * *

“ALL ABOOOOOARD!”

Brooke Lynn Ashton gave an excited bounce on her seat. “I don't know why trains are so much more exciting than planes for me,” she said.

“Maybe because you don't have to deal with crawling through security, huge terminals or being trapped on a plane,” Lulu Spencer said. “Considering the crap you have to go through to fly, the little bit longer it takes to go by train to the city is so worth it. You going to do any homework while we're riding?”

“Nope,” Brooke said. “Unless you really feel like seeing me barf. Reading when I'm in something moving – a plane, a car, whatever – makes me sick.”

“That sucks,” Lulu said. “I traveled so much as a kid, being in something moving is natural. I'd have been miserable if I couldn't read or draw or write.”

The train started.

“I am so glad to be out of town this weekend,” Brooke said. “Gets me out of that geekfest Dillon and Serena are so psyched about.”

Lulu giggled. “Afraid you'd see Spinelli there?” she asked.

“Him and all the other losers,” Brooke said.

“He's not a loser!” Lulu said, annoyed with Brooke's snobbery. “Just because he's not what you like in a guy doesn't make him a loser.”

Brooke raised a sardonic eyebrow. “Protesting a bit much,” she noted. “Something you want to share?”

Lulu got what Brooke meant. “No,” Lulu retorted. “But he's not a bad person. Yeah, he's a social idiot and thoughtless and stuff, but he's also got a good heart. He helped the sports editor late on a Friday night when his laptop crashed at the football game.”

“Because he had nothing else to do,” Brooke said. “Not like he'd have a date with anyone other than his hand, and there wasn't any Lara Croft Fan Club convention in town. Sorry, he's just too abrasive for me. Why does he have to call people by these weird, made-up labels – Blonde Goddess, Pop-Tart, or Big Kahuna for Mr. Marquez? Why does he half to talk like he's got a really bad scriptwriter? It's retarded.”

Lulu rolled her eyes. “I know,” she said. “I was hoping being around the guys on the paper would help, but it hasn't yet. He actually thinks he sounds cool, but someday he's going to offend the wrong person.”

“And get the ass-kicking he needs,” Brooke said. “Enough about him. Where are we going tomorrow?”

“I was thinking shopping during the day, maybe go over to Brooklyn for pizza?” Lulu said. “Then there's a great coffeehouse near the apartment. They have live music.”

“Works for me,” Brooke said. “I'll be going over to Bensonhurst after breakfast on Saturday, then I'll just meet you at Grand Central for the train home.”

* * *

Carly Quartermaine sauntered into General Hospital with what she would call a cheerful smile on her face. Less charitable people would call it a smirk.

Her good mood was caused by her reason for being at GH – she had been appointed to run the auction fundraiser for the future Lila and Edward Quartermaine Family Health Center. She hadn't guessed that her assisting Lucy Coe-Collins at the Nurses Ball over the summer had been an audition for the hospital board. Carly had assumed that Audrey Hardy would handle it, now that she had retired as director of nursing. But then Stefan Cassadine called her last week asking her to do it!

Even after nine years as a Quartermaine, Carly still felt pangs of insecurity, worrying that society didn't see her as a true Quartermaine but still the trailer trash she came into town as. Fortunately, she thought, the gossips had a real gold-digger to cluck about – Courtney Matthews. Meanwhile she, Carly, would have another good deeds feather in her cap.

She nodded graciously to the nurses at the station as she got on the elevator.

“I wonder why Carly's head is even bigger than it normally is,” Amy Vining said with an arched eyebrow and sardonic smile after the doors closed. Melissa Bedford and Elizabeth Webber giggled, and Epiphany Johnson permitted herself a smile. Luke had told her about his niece a long time ago.

“You didn't hear?” Epiphany said. “Wow – my first time scooping you, Amy. Anyway, Carly's going to head up a fundraiser for a new clinic they're planning to name after some of the Quartermaines.”

“Hope she goes to Lucy and gets some pointers,” Amy said.

Meanwhile, the elevator doors opened on the floor with the management and executive offices. Carly strutted off the elevator, then stopped cold, her smirk fading.

Near the waiting area, Courtney Matthews stood surrounded by several prominent local businessmen. And it looked like the conversation was pleasant. Carly's nostrils flared. She was sick of that bitch pushing herself in where she didn't belong. Enough was enough.

“Yes, I think the company out in Nevada looks quite promising,” Courtney was saying. “Mr. Cassadine seems to think they have what it takes to have the mobile health clinic up and running by June of next year at the latest, if we can get an order in before the holidays.”

“Well, you've certainly given us what we'd hoped for,” said one of the men. Just then Carly walked up. Alan Quartermaine, walking out of his office, looked down the hallway and saw that. A bad back kept him from running to break up what was to come.

“I can just imagine what that would be,” Carly said caustically. The men turned to look at Carly, stunned. Courtney turned poppy red with embarrassment and rage.

“I leave that to the experts,” Courtney shot back, then turned back to the others. “Gentlemen, unless there's any other questions, I think it's time to go.”

The group quickly moved towards the elevator, Courtney turning her head to shoot Carly a dirty look. You'll pay for that, bitch, Courtney thought.

Carly glared back. She didn't hear footsteps behind her and was startled when her arm was grabbed and she was spun around. She gasped as she saw her father-in-law, his face mottled in anger.

“How dare you!” Alan said in a low, controlled, dangerous voice. “How dare you bring your trashy feud into this hospital and embarrass not only the hospital but the family like that!”

Carly tilted her chin up defiantly.

“Maybe if you didn't let someone like her in here, there wouldn't be a problem,” she retorted.

“I remember a lot of people said that about you not too long ago,” Alan said.

“Don't throw that in my face again!”

“I wouldn't have to if you behaved like a Quartermaine!” Alan said loftily. “Word of your behavior's probably halfway through the hospital by now! You'll be lucky if Stefan doesn't pull you off this fundraiser!”

“He wouldn't!” Carly said with a toss of her hair. “After all, it is being named for Quartermaines.”

“Yes, but you're not the only Quartermaine who could do this,” Alan said in a warning tone. “Skye or Tracy could very easily take over for you And unless you pull yourself together, I won't stand in their way.”

Carly blanched.

“I thought that would get your attention,” Alan said. “Now you calm down and go to your meeting. Don't make any more trouble.”

Carly marched off, her cheeks as red as if she'd just been slapped. Alan rolled his eyes, and went to the cafeteria for a late lunch. He'd need fortification for the damage control he'd have to do on Carly's behalf.

* * *

Sam McCall clicked her mouse, and the reports for the last 24 hours worth of calls done by her Iroquois County Rescue Squad station were exported to headquarters in downtown Port Charles.

She'd had a productive afternoon. Between calls, she'd not only managed to get the reports organized and sent downtown, she'd also put together a supply order for the next week. Her two important office tasks for the day done, she'd be able to leave work on time and get to her house before the workmen left, so she could confer with them on progress.

“You look happy,” Lucky Spencer said from the doorway. He didn't add that he'd love to be the one to put that look on her face.

“Hi,” Sam said with a smile, hoping she didn't look too eager. “So far, so good.”

Lucky walked in and sat across the desk from her, his white ICRS t-shirt setting off his tan and the sleeves straining against his biceps. Sam imagined those arms carrying her to bed ...

“What's going on with the house?” Lucky asked.

“Painting's just about done in the bedrooms,” Sam said. “Bathrooms should be done by end of next week.”

“What about the kitchen?”

“No problems yet, knock on wood,” Sam said, with a quick rap on the wooden credenza behind her. “The stove should be back soon. The fridge is going to look awesome with it.”

“Very retro, I like it,” Lucky said.

“So do I,” Sam said. “Jason wasn't too sure, but I think he's coming around.”

“He's been around lately?” Lucky asked, trying to keep the surprise out of his voice.

“Almost every day,” Sam said. “He's been so nice, picking me up at Kelly's and bringing me to the house in the morning, then bringing me home again.”

“Jason's a good guy, always has been,” Lucky said, feeling he was on safe ground with that.

“He's been great,” Sam said warmly. “And he's doing really well in his training. Don't tell him this, but even Frank Scanlon is impressed.”

“Now that's saying something!” Lucky said. “I know why Frank would have ... issues ... with someone like Jason. So that really speaks to how hard Jason's worked.”

“I have to be honest, I had my doubts about Jason at first,” Sam said. “I thought he'd just be an aimless rich guy, and wasn't sure he'd be able to stick with it, especially so soon after waking up. But he's shown me. I'm really proud of him, and I'm glad I've been able to help him a bit.”

“Need a ride back to Kelly's?” Lucky offered.

“No, thanks,” Sam said, a bit nervously as she imagined riding next to Lucky and the effect his tight t-shirt could have on her. “Jason's picking me up.”

“Oh ... all right,” Lucky said, valiantly keeping his voice light to hide the sting of rejection. “Better get back to work.”

Sam smiled as he walked out, then sighed.

* * *

“Alan,” Stefan said as he stood in the doorway of Alan Quartermaine's office. “May we have a talk?”

Alan looked up from his correspondence. He knew why Stefan was there.

“By all means,” Alan said. Stefan sat down.

“I was most displeased to hear what happened today,” Stefan said.

“I was most displeased to witness it,” Alan said wryly. Stefan smiled faintly.

“I'm sure,” Stefan said. “But it calls into doubt the decision to have Carly handle the fundraising for the family health center. Courtney Matthews, as distasteful as she is to your family, has done an outstanding job for the mobile health clinic and I won't have her driven out.”

“Yes, Courtney is distasteful for us,” Alan said. “I don't like having her around, Stefan. Not after she tried to ply my son with alcohol as an attempt to seduce him. It was a long time ago, yet I still don't trust her. But as long as I don't have to deal with her directly, I can handle it. And as long as she doesn't step into any fundraising for our family's clinic, I'll make sure Carly handles it, too.”

“Fair enough,” Stefan said. “I'm going to talk things over with Courtney later. Hopefully she can take the high road, too.”

* * *

BAM!

Courtney's foot connected perfectly with the punching bag in the gym of her loft building. She was practicing her roundhouse kicks and the bag was getting pounded, as Courtney imagined it being Carly Quartermaine's smug, sneering face.

She's a worse piece of trash than she could ever accuse me of being, Courtney thought viciously.

BAM!

Stefan Cassadine watched from a distance with a mix of amusement and sympathy. He knew Courtney had earned the enmity of the Quartermaines, but he also knew what it was like to try and move past the mistakes and sins of the past. And he didn't have much sympathy for Carly, who was the coal-black pot to Courtney's kettle. He walked towards her.

Courtney looked at him warily and warningly as he approached. He held up his hands.

“I come in peace,” he said with a smile. “Are you all right? I heard about that scene today.”

“Go ahead,” Courtney said, turning back towards the bag and giving it another emphatic kick. “Take your best shot.”

“Not while you're on fire like that,” Stefan replied. “Actually, I wanted to thank you for walking away when you did and not letting it escalate. It was probably quite tempting to do otherwise.”

After another hard kick, Courtney turned towards Stefan.

“Yes, it was,” she said angrily. “Thank you for seeing that. Who does that bitch think she is?”

“A Quartermaine,” Stefan said firmly. “And, like it or not, you brought her bad feelings on yourself.”

Courtney rolled her eyes. “And why do I have to keep paying and paying while she has gotten away with using and stepping on people since the day she came to town?” she demanded.

“Maybe that's something you shouldn't be worrying about,” Stefan said. “Focus on yourself. You've earned a lot of respect in the past year, got some more today from the way you handled yourself and will get more in the future if you continue your success with the mobile health clinic. You burned the Quartermaine bridge, but they're only one family.”

Courtney looked down sulkily, then took a deep breath and looked Stefan in the eye.

“You're right,” she said. “I've got better things to do than worry about what Saint Carly of the Trailer Park thinks or says. Besides, living well is the best revenge.”

“Good thinking,” Stefan said, chucking her under the chin playfully. “Now I'll let you get back to your workout. I'll be out of town starting tomorrow for a long weekend, but we'll meet next week to talk about your upcoming trip.”

“Looking forward to it,” Courtney said, stretching to keep her muscles warm. “You and Anna have fun.”

Stefan looked at her in confusion.

“I didn't say anything about Anna,” he said.

“You didn't have to,” Courtney said with a playful smile. “The look on your face when you brought up your 'long weekend' said it for you.”

Stefan flushed a bit and smiled.

“Well, anyway, thank you for your good wishes,” he said. “Stay away from Carly while I'm gone, please.”

“Aye-aye, sir!” Courtney said with a mock salute. Stefan laughed and walked out of the gym to go upstairs to his loft and pack.

I'll be having revenge, Courtney thought with another kick to the bag. But not just by living well. Carly's going to pay, and pay big.

BAM!

* * *

It was a quiet night at Vagabond. The outdoor seating was in storage. The dinner rush wasn't strong.

Lucky stood behind the bar, wanting a distraction from the jealous thoughts swirling in his head. He knew he was being unfair. Jason had suffered so much – how could he, Lucky, begrudge him a chance with Sam? But Sam ... how could he give up his dreams, his hopes?

A hand waved in front of his face.

“Hellooooooo,” Rachel Adair said in a teasing voice. Lucky came back to reality with a faint smile and laugh.

“Hi, Rachel,” he said. “Sorry, long day.”

“How you juggle everything, I'll never know,” Rachel said admiringly. “One job is hard enough – but three!”

“Keeps me out of trouble,” Lucky said with a grin.

“Too bad,” Rachel replied with a laugh. “You look like you could be fun in trouble.”

Lucky raised an eyebrow. “Depends on the trouble,” he said.

Rachel laughed again. “How much do you know about trouble?” she asked.

“More than I could tell you tonight,” Lucky said.

“Try me,” Rachel said invitingly.

“Maybe I will sometime,” Lucky replied with a smile. Even though Rachel wasn't Sam, she was still pretty and nice and funny, and the attention felt good.

“What can I offer you?” he asked meaningfully.

“Whaddya got?” Rachel responded. “As far as the drink goes, I think a mojito would hit the spot. What else are you offering?”

“Wait and see, Doc, wait and see.”

Oh, I intend to, Rachel thought with a smile.