Part Eight

"Sonny!" Lois called from the front door. "You have a guest."

Brook Lynn gave him a half smile. "We can finish our tea party later."

"Thanks." He gently patted her head, lowered his tiny cup to its saucer and headed to the front door.

Lois squeezed his arm as she walked past him. In the background, he heard her calling out for Brook Lynn, telling the little girl to come with her to the kitchen.

Must be some guest, Sonny thought. When he reached the door, he understood. "Mike."

"May I come in?" His father asked.

Sonny stood aside. "Sure."

Mike closed the door after he entered and Sonny led him to the living room. An awkward silence ensued. Then, without warning, Mike hugged him. At first, Sonny remained stiff. Mike's hold tightened. His father's love and need to protect him overpowered Sonny. He returned the embrace with equal fervor.

When they separated, Sonny noticed that Mike's eyes glistened. The older man sniffed once and shook his head. "I can't believe this is happening. You should have called me."

"Why?" Sonny looked down at the floor. He could hardly stand to see the pain in Mike's eyes. "There wasn't any need."

"You're my son. If you're in trouble, I need to be there. Here I am." Mike sat on the leather recliner that Sonny favored. "What can I do to help?"

"Go back to Port Charles--"

"No."

Sonny gave his father a hard look. "To look out for Michael. How is he? Does he know?"

"About Carly's death, yes," Mike answered, "but not that you're accused of it."

"How did you convince Bobbie not to tell him?"

"When he's crying for you, it's kinda hard to turn you into a crook."

Sonny moved to the sofa and sat. He clasped his hands together. "What about Bobbie? Does she think I did it?"

"We haven't discussed it. She's been busy with funeral arrangements," Mike said. "Will they let you come back for that?"

Sonny shook his head. "No, I doubt it. Dara's my attorney. Maybe she can work something out. I want to be there for Michael."

Mike nodded. "Of course, you do."

*/*

The sisters met at their favorite coffee shop. From their table, they had a wonderful view for people watching. Something they enjoyed since they were kids. But this early morning meeting had nothing to do with kids' play; this was all relative.

Dara doctored her coffee with extra cream and one packet of Splenda™. She sipped and sighed. "Delicious."

Dawn smiled and stirred the whipped cream into her hot chocolate. Unease squeezed her chest. She hated this, but it had to be done. Dara had to be warned. "The media knows about your client's visit to St. Vincent's. It will be in this morning's edition."

Her older sister frowned. Her mug landed on the table with a loud thud. "How do you know?"

"Fox told me--"

"So, he's at it again," Dara quipped.

"No," Dawn jumped to his defense. "This has nothing to do with him…well, not exactly. Anyway, it doesn't matter. He told me, so now I'm warning you. Be prepared."

"Why did he tell you?" Suspicion hinted strongly in her tone. "He didn't tell you the last time."

"You may as well know, we're considering a reconciliation."

"After what he did, how could you?"

Dawn leaned forward. Her voice dropped to a harsh whisper. "Is this the pot calling the kettle black? Look at you, defending Sonny. I know Fox a lot better than you do. He didn't have to tell me. He knew I'd warn you. He's changed. It's not all about the story."

"You still love him."

Dawn set the mug of hot chocolate aside and answered honestly, "I never stopped. Look, this isn't about him and me. I want you to be prepared. Once this hits the papers, they'll be all over you like white on rice."

"Thanks."

She relaxed and shrugged. "What are sisters for?"

*/*

Abby marched into his office and slammed the morning's paper of his desk. Jack looked at her, mildly amused by her dramatics. "Yes?"

"Have you see this?"

He nodded. "I read it this morning over coffee."

"We need those results."

"I filed a Motion about thirty minutes ago," he said. "You have to admit it's an interesting move."

"Leaking it to the press?" she asked, gliding into the chair across his desk.

He shook his head. "She didn't leak it. That's not Dara Jensen's style. But I'm sure she will use it to her advantage."

"We'll have to counter it. Look into his background and see if he has a history of drug use. We can't let this work in his favor," Abby said.

"Stabler and Benson are conducting a thorough investigation into his life in Port Charles."

Abby graced him with a smile of awe. "You don't miss a beat, do you?"

"Nope," he responded with a hint of smugness. "Not one."