Fallen Angel - TOC

Chapter Seventy-Five

Frankie sat down at the circular, oak kitchen table and twirled the gray, floppy hat in his hands. He looked at his aunt and smiled broadly. "Thanks for taking me shopping. I think my dad's gonna like dis."

"He certainly enjoys fishing," Bobbie commented with a sick expression on her face. "I'll never understand men and their fascination with hunting and catching things - and with guts and worms."

"Awwww," Frankie said in a teasing voice. "I don't like dem either. It's stinky stuff. Yuck."

"Didn't inherit the fishing gene, huh?"

Frankie shook his head. "No, but I'm gonna try - for my dad. He likes it, and I can tell he wants me and Sly to do it with him. We kind of pooped out on him last time. Sly dumped maggots on himself, and den I caught da baby turtle. It was all over den. Anyways, I'm gonna give him dis and tell him I'll go fishing with him again, dat I'll try to like it."

Bobbie's eyes glowed with affection. "That's very kind of you, nephew dear. Luke will love it."

"How's dis?" Frankie laughed as he placed the fishing hat lopsidedly on top of his head.

"It'll look better on Luke."

"Dat's what I thought," Frankie said, removing it and patting his hair back into place. He ran his fingers over the fishing lures that were pinned to the hat and imagined the look on Luke's face when he gave it to him. Ruby had hammered it into him that he should try harder to be nice to his dad, and Frankie had agreed as he thought it over. Luke had done nothing bad to him. He hadn't put him down or hit him. Maybe it was time to relax around him. It had been necessary to keep his guard up around Frank, but there were reasons for that, reasons that didn't fit with his real dad. 

"What does Aunt Ruby like?" he inquired casually. He wanted to surprise his great aunt with a present for being so nice to him and for being the first one to recognize him when he'd come to Port Charles.

"More cake?" Bobbie asked, rising from her chair before answering. Frankie nodded. He was destined to gain weight if he hung out at his Aunt Bobbie's regularly. No one could resist Bobbie's cake; it was a force of nature, a never-ending chocolate madness. "What do you mean by like, Frankie?"

Frankie looked pensive as he plucked at his lower lip. He leaned back in his chair and laced his hands behind his head. "Is dere something she's always wanted but never could afford? Dat kind of thing."

Bobbie laughed. "That's a dangerous question. You never know what someone might suggest." She handed Frankie's plate back to him and watched contentedly as her nephew succumbed to her secret recipe. "She's always talking about going to Hawaii, but she never lets the reins go at the diner. She has to have her hand in everything."

Frankie nodded knowingly. "Sometimes da boss always knows best."

"She's always admired those delicate Royal Doulton ballerinas," Bobbie noted. "She looks at them when we go shopping, but always shakes her head when I suggest that she buy one. She's practical to the bone, but she's got a big soft heart, our Ruby. Not that she'll ever admit it."

Frankie sipped on his second glass of milk. He didn't seem to notice that Bobbie's expert technique was designed to fatten him up. She talked and laughed with him, setting him at ease, and he just kept eating and eating. He laid his glass down and frowned when Bobbie laughed at his milk mustache, handing him a paper napkin and pointing toward her lip. "Oh," he said as he sheepishly wiped it away. "Aunt Ruby was da first to notice I was a Spencer dude," he said wisely. "She's smart."

Bobbie lightly punched him in the arm with her eyes widening. "I was the second person," she mock chided him. "Ruby and I were trying to figure out how we were going to steal you from the mansion in Atlantic City before, well, you know."

Frankie's face saddened, and he unconsciously rubbed his leg. "I wish you woulda," he said softly. He stood up abruptly, but turned pale and swayed with his face grimacing.

"You worked too hard at rehab," Bobbie said in her no-nonsense nurse's manner. "I’m going to give you your pain medication."

"I don't need none," Frankie lied. His furrowed brow and anxious vibes told another story that Bobbie quickly picked up on.

"Go sit on the couch. I'll be in there in a sec," she ordered with a finger pointed toward the living room.

Frankie glanced at Bobbie, taking in her potential redheaded temper and strong will, which obviously matched his own. "Okay," he sighed, limping out of the kitchen and making groans, not bothering to hide his discomfort as he was going to receive pain medication whether he wanted it or not. He lay down on the couch on his side, coughing raggedly with a hand held to his chest. Dammit, I wish I'd stop coughing. It hurts. Stupid exercises. It always makes it hard to breathe. Frankie's mind floated back to when he'd fallen during gym class, finding it impossible to take in enough oxygen. When would the humiliation ever end? He wished he were on top of the world, like he was when he'd first breezed into town with his plan for destruction and ignorance about his heritage. He couldn't seem to make up his mind whether or not the total change in his life was a good or a bad thing. Feeling powerless was enough to send him back to the life and into Frank's waiting arms - only the life didn't exist anymore and was impossible to resurrect. It was gone, done, finished - deader than the proverbial doornail. His eyes closed, and he was surprised when Bobbie interrupted him a minute later.

"Give me your hip," she said merrily with a syringe brandished in her hand.

"Not da hip," Frankie said in a feeble attempt at a joke.  He was too tired to fight her off, so he pulled down his sweats a few inches and waited for the inevitable sting with its companion, a heavy, dull feeling of pain relief.

"That wasn't bad," Bobbie said cheerfully after she wiped his injection site with an alcohol swab and pulled up his sweats.

"No," Frankie admitted. His aunt wasn't so bad. At least she didn't make him feel stupid. "How come I never see Johnny no more?" he asked sadly.

"Johnny's schedule has been horrible. He's in that intense paramedic training program. I hardly see him either. He's usually in his classes or studying at his apartment."

"I was wondering if he didn't wanna see me no more. Maybe Luke told him to go away. My dad, he doesn't want people from da mob near me. I can tell. He won't let me call nobody or let me hire me a personal bodyguard like I used ta have."

Bobbie sat down beside Frankie. "Oh honey, Luke would never keep someone from you that you care about. He knows Johnny is important to you. Why don't you call Johnny and talk to him? Tell him that you miss him."

Frankie shrugged. "I don't wanna bother him if he wants to be rid of me." He took in a deep breath and coughed as he blinked away a few tears.

Bobbie laid a soft hand on Frankie's arm. "He cares about you quite a bit. He loves you."

Frankie's blue eyes lit up in his sad face. "You think so?"

"I know so. Give him a call later. Maybe you can arrange to meet."

Frankie shrugged. "I dunno," he said noncommittally. He was used to assuming the negative about people and their motives.

"Frankie, Frankie!" Lucas called out shrilly as he rounded the corner with his full set of army men. He shook them hard in their plastic bag. "Let's play! I'm tired of being in my room. Mommy, you said I could play with Frankie after you were done with cake." He pulled repeatedly on Frankie's arm, encouraging him to sit up.

"Lucas!" Bobbie warned. "Frankie is tired. Maybe he doesn't want to play army soldiers with you." She looked at the two boys with narrowed eyes. "In fact, you both look like you could use naps."

Frankie and Lucas looked at each other when they detected Bobbie's demanding tone. They were in for it, no way out. "Aw," they both whined at the same time, laughing when they noticed their mutual chorus.

"Go on," Bobbie said as she rounded them up. "Frankie, you can use Sly's room. Lucas, you need to go to bed, too."

"Lucas can sleep with me. Sly's bed is big enough," Frankie offered.

Lucas jumped up and down with a triumphant look on his face. He took Frankie's hand and beamed at his mother. "Yeah, I wanna go with Frankie."

~*~*~*~

Small, plastic army soldiers were spread out all over the bed's soft surface in various troop formations. Hills were produced with pillows and the ruffled up bedspread as well as a few well-placed huts formed from tented books. Lucas and Frankie were sprawled on their stomachs, manipulating the soldiers with fierce competition displayed on their intent faces.

"Gotcha," Lucas whispered as his small hand grabbed four soldiers. Frankie laid his hand on top of young cousin's and turned it over.

"Wrong men," he explained as he took three from Lucas and gave him two different soldiers.

"Oh," Lucas said with a pause and a smile. He liked playing with Frankie, who showed him the ropes, but didn't make him feel like he was a little kid. Frankie played with him like he was a big boy.

Frankie brought out his secret forces from behind the protective cover of his pillow, which was supposed to represent a tall hill. Lucas' eyes popped when he saw the hordes pouring toward him. "Oh no!" he said louder than he should have. Frankie gently held his hand over Lucas' mouth and motioned toward the door with his head. Both boys waited with their breaths held when they heard Bobbie's footsteps stop in the hallway right outside the door as if she were listening for noise within the bedroom. Frankie held an index finger vertical to his mouth to signal that they should remain silent. He sighed and relaxed, removing his hand from Lucas' face when Bobbie continued walking down the hallway.

That was too close for his comfort. They'd almost been busted. Somehow, Frankie had sneaked the bag of toy soldiers into the bedroom without Bobbie noticing when she'd ordered them to take a nap. He'd become an expert at stealing items and sneaking them into his bedroom, particularly food from the Atlantic City mansion where he'd had to forage if Frank were out of town and no formal dinners were held or if he couldn't eat the adult food because it was yucky or hard to chew. He'd only been caught once or twice stealing a peanut butter sandwich, and he'd rather forget the consequences. Frank might have been a criminal, but he didn’t stand for stealing in his own home regardless if the reason were for simple hunger.

"Genghis Khan," Frankie said simply as the hordes overran Lucas' small, unprotected militia. "I don’t have no horses, but da principle is da same." Frankie was competitive even with a four year old, but his face sank when he noticed that Lucas had sad eyes and the sniffles. It was obvious his young cousin felt bad at losing so dramatically. He really liked little kids and didn't want to crush their spirits, so he made up an extra secret rule. "Space invaders," he said with a raised eyebrow. "It's da last chance for ya. See dose aliens hovering overhead? Dey can wipe out my army with your command. Dey can hypnotize da troops and make 'em do what you want."

"Really?" Lucas whispered excitedly.

"For sure," Frankie confirmed. He watched as Lucas' hand simulated the death ray that spelled disaster for his men. Lucas toppled each one of Frankie's men with his small yet deadly hand. "You're all dead!" he declared happily.

"Darn," Frankie complained as he painted on a sad expression on his face to complete his charade to save a small boy's pride. "I'm sunk. You win." 

Lucas giggled and threw fistfuls of the soldiers up in the air, much to Frankie's amusement. He leaned back on the bed and rested his head on his pillow. "You'd be a great enforcer," he said. "You'd enjoy it." He yawned loudly and blinked his eyes tiredly. "I didn't."

~*~*~*~

"He didn't give you any trouble?" Luke asked as he walked with Bobbie down the hall to the room where Frankie and Lucas were napping.

"Not at all," Bobbie answered enthusiastically. "He was a delight to have. He worked real hard at his rehabilitation exercises this afternoon and kept Lucas entertained until they both zonked out. You should see this. It made me laugh when I peeked in to see how they were doing."

Bobbie opened the door to the spare room, and brother and sister smiled at the two Lucases. Frankie was curled up around his pillow with a fistful of army soldiers gripped in his hand. Lucas lay the in the exact same configuration as if he'd consciously copied his older cousin. Both boys were exhausted by their mock war, and the bed was littered with army men.

"Frankie's kind of a big kid in some ways," Luke said, shaking his head. Neither boy stirred with the voices talking in the doorway.

"How was the trip?" Bobbie asked carefully. She knew that Luke had gone to Atlantic City, to the mansion in particular.

"Hard. Real hard," Luke said abruptly with a steely tone to his voice that alerted Bobbie not to push him for any details he didn't offer. Luke wrapped an arm around Bobbie's shoulder and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "Thanks, Barbara Jean."

Bobbie looked deep into her brother's eyes and read the emotional pain and anxiety that still lingered. "Any time," she said softly.

~*~*~*~

"Luke, are you going to take your fishing hat off before we pick up the girls?" Alexis asked worriedly. Her eyes darted toward her husband who wore Frankie's gift jauntily displayed on the top of his head. Luke had been humming a happy tune under his breath, but he stopped when he laughed and glanced at his wife. "It's not often that my son gives me such a wonderful gift," he explained. "It deserves to be displayed."

Sly poked Frankie in the side with his elbow and made a face at him. Frankie elbowed him back and said, "Dat's for fishing, dat hat."

"And that's what makes it so wonderful," Luke replied. "The fishing lures are like jewels to me. I'm a simple man who appreciates simple pleasures."

Sly held his nose with his fingers and shook his head. "As long as you don't start smelling like a fish," he joked. "You're really into that fishing stuff."

"Does that mean you won't be joining me and Frankie on our next fishing trip? Frankie promised to try again. Are you chickening out?"

"No," Sly answered grumpily. "Just don't give me those maggots again. I hate them."

"We'll give you a fake worm, how's that? Only, you won't catch anything."

"Good," Sly said under his breath. He leaned into Frankie and whispered, "Suck-up."

Frankie made a face at his brother and good naturedly pushed him away. Sly made sucking noises, and Frankie retaliated by smacking him on the shoulder.

"Settle down you two," Alexis called out over her shoulder. "We're picking up two young ladies. Are you going to act like that around them?"

"I know what I wanna do with da young ladies I pick up," Frankie answered smartly.

"Luke," Alexis sighed. Her nerves were on edge with the fatigue and shock of her day in Atlantic City, and fielding comments from insolent teenagers wasn't high on her list of desirable activities.

"Clean up your act," Luke said firmly. "You don't talk like that to your stepmother."

"Yeah, whatever," Frankie muttered. He was tired, too, and nervous about seeing Maxie with the crowd that was going to dinner.

"What?" Luke asked.

"Nothing," Frankie said tersely.

"Good."

Luke pulled into the driveway of the Quartermaine estate and popped his horn, much to Sly's dismay. "Emily is already walking towards us," he informed his father. "You don't need to honk."

"Deny an old man his fun."

Sly hurriedly opened the door to the SUV and helped pull Emily into the back beside him. Frankie grumbled as he slid nearer to the door. "Is he in another bad mood?" Emily whispered into Sly's ear. Sly nodded and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for coming," he said with sparkling eyes. He stared at her with appreciation until Alexis interrupted them by saying hello to Emily.

When they pulled in front of Maxie's house, Alexis said, "I'm going to talk to her mom - be back in a sec."

Frankie drummed his fingers impatiently on the armrest while Sly and Emily whispered and giggled back and forth as if they were the only two people within miles. Frankie glanced at them and rolled his eyes. To his mind, they were such teenagers, bouncy and innocent. Of course, he regarded his own teenage behavior as being suave, cool and together. He was older, after all.

"Hi there," Maxie said breathlessly when she opened the door. She wore her hair long and loose, and it looked so shiny she must have brushed it hundreds of times while getting ready for her outing. She wore a light perfume that smelled of both angel food cake and something flowery and fresh, and her outfit was perfectly coordinated.

Frankie pulled Maxie onto his lap with a smooth motion, luxuriating in the soft feel of her flesh settled warmly against his. "You can sit here, on my lap," he said teasingly with his hands spanning her waist and his nose buried into her long, blond hair.

Maxie motioned to the space beside them. "I'd better buckle up," she said with embarrassment as she realized Frankie's parents were only inches away. Frankie helped her find her seatbelt and fasten it, and after he was done, he lightly slid his palm against hers.

Maxie blinked with surprise at the sexy feeling of his slightly larger, rougher hand moving against hers. Even when he was doing something innocent, Frankie had a natural sensuality that turned everyday events into fireworks displays.

"Oh. Hi Emily. Hi Sly," Maxie laughed when she realized she'd been ignoring them.

Sly and Emily were sitting so close together, they seemed like conjoint twins, but they weren't interested in separating anytime soon. Sly craned his neck to see around Emily's shoulder. "Hi Maxie. It's nice to see you again - what is this, the fourth time today?"

"Gosh, it seems like it. We were on the bus twice today and then sat together at lunch. It's a record. What about that bus driver? She was worse this afternoon if that's possible."

"The personality transplant didn't take," Sly joked. "She's on the donor list again."

Maxie tittered at Sly's sense of humor. "What do you do with him?" she questioned Emily. "You must laugh constantly hanging out with this guy."

Emily nodded knowingly and leaned closer into Sly. "I like his sense of humor, too."

Frankie frowned as he watched the interaction, not entirely sure if he should be jealous or merely watchful of Sly's relationship with his girlfriend. Sly still seemed to have the upper hand when it came to friendships and getting along with people. No matter how hard Frankie tried, it seemed to him like he messed things up. Why was Sly better at this stuff and how was he going to catch up to him?

"We'll be going to Amici's," Luke announced over his shoulder when he was stopped at a red light. "It's only a ten minute drive there, and the food is wonderful."

"I love spaghetti," Sly said.

"Me, too," Emily added happily. Her warm, brown eyes met Sly's amused green ones. "We like a lot of the same things."

Frankie felt his blood run cold with Luke's comment about the restaurant. He couldn’t go to an Italian restaurant and eat that food - no way. What was he going to do? "Hey, I volunteer to pay for steaks," he said weakly.

"Oh, I love Italian food," Maxie said. "Don’t you like it, Frankie?"

Frankie swallowed slowly and pulled at the neck of his shirt as he felt like he was choking. "I dunno." He grew very quiet and subdued as he looked out of the window at the passing scenery. His eyes lost focus, and the trees whisked by him in a green blur.

***  Frankie was exhausted and sore from being continually tied up and taunted by his kidnappers. They were two beefy Mafia soldiers with enormous matching appetites calling for constant takeout food. They hadn't bothered to feed ten year old Frankie for the first twenty-four hours of his captivity, preferring instead to terrorize him with threats on his life and intimations that he wouldn’t need food for where he was going.

One man shoved an entire meatball into his slack mouth and chewed soggily while pointing a fork in Frankie's direction. "How would you prefer to go, Smith Junior? I could shoot a bullet inta yer head or how 'bout a knife in da back? What's yer preference?"

Frankie didn't answer and wrinkled his nose as he hung his head. The smell of meat and tomatoes was turning his stomach, as empty as it was.

"What's wrong with dis one?" the other guy asked as he wiped the sauce from his mouth with a paper napkin. He took a deep swig of his beer. "You want dis, right?" He laughed when Frankie looked up. "Here, I'll give you da rest of dis shit." The man walked over to Frankie, pulled his head back by yanking his hair, and he stuffed the beer bottle into the kid's mouth, letting Frankie gag with the liquid forcibly flowing down his throat. "Dere's your fluid for da night," he said with a shake of his head. "Hey, Mike, dis is a drag. How long we gotta do it? I wanna finish him off and go home to my wife."

"We keep him alive until we get da orders. He's a pain, but we gotta put up with da brat." The disgruntled man kicked out a heavy foot and connected solidly with Frankie's chair, sending it skittering to the side, tipping, but righting itself at the last second.

Frankie's audible breaths filled the room, and the men's laughter followed quickly after. "Scared ya, kid?" Frankie lowered his eyes and tried to avoid making eye contact, as that sometimes made them mad because of the expression on his face or the fire within his bright blue eyes. He already wore numerous bruises on his face from their irritation with his existence. The orders weren't to kill him yet, but maiming was allowed in order to maintain their power position.

"Hey, Mike, he looks kinda pale. Maybe we should give him somethin' ta eat." Mike shrugged noncommittally and approached Frankie with a few leftover strands of spaghetti and one half of a cold meatball. "Open up, Junior."

Frankie shook his head and clenched his teeth.

Enraged, his captor pressed hard on both sides of Frankie's cheeks until his lips parted. He forced a huge mouthful of food into the boy, and his sharp fork painfully jabbed the inside of Frankie's mouth. Frankie choked and coughed. "Don't spit it out," his captor warned when he caught the intent in Frankie's eyes.

Frankie slowly chewed the food with distaste and tried with all his might to keep it down as it rumbled ominously in his empty, stressed stomach. His head whipped abruptly to the right with the force of the man's hand striking his cheek. "Get dat look offa yer face."

Frankie sat silently, his muscles twitching with fear and exhaustion, waiting for the next humiliation and wondering where his dad was. Was he going to rescue him or would he die at the hands of these slobs? He tried to alter his breathing as his panicked wheezing and silent crying seemed to bother his companions, who took out their frustrations on his face. ***  

The SUV was parked in the restaurant parking lot, and all the occupants except for Frankie had piled out of the vehicle and were standing in front of the opened back door, staring at him.

"I don't know, Mr. Spencer. He's been like this for several minutes. I couldn't get him to talk to me." Maxie looked worriedly back and forth from Frankie to Luke. She held her arms and sniffed away a few tears.

"He's tired," Sly said in an attempt to deflect away from the real reason Frankie was zoned out. No one outside the family knew about his disorder, and that's the way they wanted to keep it for now while it was so new to them. He squeezed Emily's hand and looked at her sharply to quiet her when she said, "I never do that when I'm tired."

Luke squatted down before Frankie, who was held in place by his seat belt but leaning toward the door with his gaze seemingly directed at the parking lot pavement. Alexis hovered in the background with a hand held to her head, feeling a major headache coming on. Luke waved his hand in front of his son's face, but Frankie didn't flinch, and his vision didn't waver. "Hey," Luke said evenly as he took hold of Frankie's arm and shook it lightly. "Frankie. Talk to me. I want to talk to you. It's your dad."

Frankie sighed and frowned, twisting in his seat. He looked down into his father's face, which was tense and lined with worry and fatigue. His eyes slowly swept over the general area, and he wondered what everyone was doing standing around, staring at him. "What?" he said in a soft, slow voice.

"We're here," Luke said calmly, still squatting so he could look directly at Frankie and capture his full attention. "Are you okay? Do you feel up to dinner?"

Frankie nodded wordlessly, confused as to what had happened, but not wanting to ask.

"Do you want your crutches?"

Frankie nodded again. He caught the upset expression on Maxie's face and smiled feebly to try to break the tension which hovered over everyone. It seemed like no matter what he did, something always went wrong when he was with her, and he wondered if that would ever change.

~*~*~*~

No one would ever know the full list of sights, sounds, movements, smells and intrusive memories that would set him off, and not even he knew what would happened in the minefield of his new life. Life had been constantly tense and frightening when he'd lived with Frank, but the sheer necessity of control had kept him in line. Frankie's life had been very regimented and narrow with few new experiences outside of the mob. His ability to switch into different roles and persons had been a saving grace that allowed him to function and survive in Frank's world, but now it didn't work right. As blessed as a little love and kindness were to him, the relaxation that it brought caused Frankie endless trouble from his point of view. He simply didn’t know who to be or how to act. He tried with all his might but had great difficulty changing and adapting to the new demands placed on him. His former life simply hadn't offered him the opportunities to interact with vastly different types of people and to meet their expectations. Frankie's fears didn't make sense to his dining companions - how could they know what had happened to him, and how could he ever explain?

When it came time for Frankie to order, he quietly requested steak, one of the two or three "American" style meals that were offered in the Italian restaurant. "I want it medium rare," he said confidently, smacking his plastic covered menu closed and handing it to the waiter.

"Spaghetti on the side?" the man asked respectfully.

"No!" Frankie ordered loudly. "Potatoes or nothin'."

"As you wish sir."

All eyes directed to Frankie, who was a whiter shade of pale, gripping hard on his arm to maintain his mental presence by distracting himself with pain. A lightbulb went off in Alexis' analytical mind as she noted that Frankie was unnerved by being in the restaurant, which was Italian, which wasn't too far from any memories that Frankie might have involving the mob. Uh-oh, she thought. Why didn't we think of that? It seemed like such a harmless place. How can we keep track of all of the things that might bother him?

"How's Georgie, my favorite spy?" Frankie asked in an attempt to control his emotions and appear normal.

"She talks about you all the time," Maxie said regretfully. "She can be a pest."

"I like her," Frankie replied. "She's my friend."

Maxie sighed and played with her cloth napkin. "I guess. Maybe I'd see her differently if she weren't my baby sister, you know."

Frankie slipped his arm around Maxie's chair and subtlely moved in closer to her. Just being in her presence seemed to calm him down. "I haven't seen her since I sang with Frank Sinatra at da diner."

Maxie nodded and took a sip of her water as she glanced at Luke and Alexis, who were listening to their conversation. "You know how my parents are," she said. "I can't have you over to the house, and that’s where Georgie is."

"One step at a time," Alexis said cheerfully. "If we bring you back in one piece after tonight, maybe the rules will ease in the future."

"I hope I'll be back in one piece," Maxie joked.

Luke shrugged as he joined in on the teasing, one of his all-time favorite sports. "You never know with me behind the wheel. I've been known to go off road if I get a wild hair. That's why we have the SUV."

"It's totally clean and not a scratch on it," Maxie shot back with dancing eyes. "You've never had it out in the country on a dirt road. I'd bet five dollars on it."

"Oooh, don't bet me, missy," Luke laughed. "I'm a gamblin' man."

Alexis smiled and placed her hand on Luke's shoulder. "He's dangerous, Maxie. Quit while you're ahead. He's likely to slip that vehicle right into the dirt when he's driving you home - just to win a bet."

"Dad's crazy," Sly confirmed as he joined in the game. "You never know what he'll do next."

"I'm inventive," Luke sniffed as he rose up higher in his chair. "It takes a special sort of brilliance to be your own man."

"You're funny, Mr. Spencer," Emily smiled. "You're always telling corny jokes and making me laugh. I like that."

Luke waved his hand toward his youngest son's girlfriend. "See? A woman of taste and refinement. She knows how to show her appreciation."

Frankie cleared his throat and held up his hands. "I gotta wash up," he said shortly. He placed his hand over Maxie's and gently pulled on it. "You wanna go to the restroom, too, dontcha?"

Maxie caught the twinkle in Frankie's eye that told her he was in a mischievous mood, and she welcomed back the Frankie that she had fallen in love with. "Sure," she said breezily. Frankie grabbed one crutch for a makeshift cane to support him, and the couple walked toward the back of the restaurant hand in hand until they reached the relative privacy of the alcove behind the bar.

"I've been dyin' to get you all to myself," Frankie said with a low, husky voice as he leaned his crutch against a wall. His eyes locked into Maxie's, and they stared at one another for a delicious minute, allowing the fires to flame up within them.

"Uuhmm," Frankie and Maxie uttered simultaneously when he backed her up to the wall and placed his body close to hers, taking her face gently between his hands and placing a huge kiss on her lips. He pulled her closer, rubbing his hands over her shoulders and arms, never letting her up for air, but instead greedily possessing her as he expertly moved his lips over hers.

"Wow," Maxie said breathlessly when they finally parted. "Let's do it again."

Frankie intertwined their fingers so that both of their hands met palm to palm, rubbing them together and squeezing as he French kissed her with abandon for a minute that seemed like an hour. "I love you," he said finally with lips upturned in a sly grin. "Do you still love me?" His eyes turned earnest as he sought her face for a reaction.

"Yes," Maxie answered softly. This time, she leaned into him and pressed him against the wall with her body, seeking a tight, warm hug. She looked down at his lips and kissed them so delicately it felt like she barely breathed on them. She took her index finger and rubbed his lips with a soft touch, smiling when she heard him moan. "We have to get back," she sighed.

"Naw," Frankie disagreed with a shake of his head. "I'm gonna steal you away so we don’t ever have to go back. I miss you."

"I miss you, too," Maxie said. "All the time."

Frankie shrugged, kissed her lightly and placed his hand around her waist as they made their way back to the table.

~*~*~*~

"Can I have a bite of your steak?" Sly asked as he motioned with his fork pointing toward Frankie's plate full of uneaten food. He'd noticed that Frankie was looking around suspiciously, especially at the waiters, and avoiding his food. He'd recalled Frankie's comment about seeing people die eating food and using taste testers when dining out. It was weird, but maybe he thought they'd try to kill him at Amici's. After downing his own plate full of spaghetti, Sly was still hungry. He highly doubted that anyone at Amici's would poison them. Luke had taken him to this restaurant all the time when they were living together in their bachelor pad apartment. Luke's tolerance of cooking and Sly's intolerance of the results had often sent them out to eat.

Frankie brightened up and slid his plate toward Sly. He hesitated when he realized that Sly might die if he ate tainted food, and he pulled the plate back toward him with a frightened look on his face. "Maybe you better not," he said tightly. Sly met Frankie's eyes and smiled reassuringly. "I'm sure it's okay," he said lightly. The two boys stared at each other, comprehending that they were indeed talking about the same thing. "You're probably right," Frankie conceded, and he allowed his brother to cut off a piece of his steak. "Is it good?"

Sly nodded enthusiastically as he chewed and swallowed. "Better eat the rest before it gets cold."

Luke and Alexis watched the odd exchange, wondering what the two boys were talking about and why they were acting so strangely. Alexis had already filed away in her brain the caution not to serve spaghetti at home due to Frankie's extreme reactions to the restaurant, and she wondered what else she needed to be concerned about.

Emily had watched the two brothers with amusement. "Do you have a hollow leg?" she asked Sly. "You should have ordered two plates."

"I know," Sly laughed with a hand over his stomach. "I can help myself. I guess I'm growing - at least I know my legs are."

Emily blushed and lazily used her fork to move the food around on her plate. "I like tall guys," she said softly. Her brown eyes shyly looked at Sly and then quickly back down at her food.

Alexis caught Luke's eye and smiled at him. It was hard not to find Sly and Emily's budding romance sweet and the couple fun to be around.

~*~*~*~

Frankie scrabbled around, moving aside twigs and leaves and feeling for the cold, hard aluminum of his hidden beer cans. Soon after returning home, he'd gotten the urge for a drink to soothe away the lingering anxieties of his evening out. He'd loved being so near Maxie, being able to kiss her and listen to her soft, tinkling voice; however, the smell of the food with its greasy meatballs and tomatoes had sent him back to a time and a place he'd rather forget. It'd been a miracle he'd lasted as long as he did without running back to the parking lot and crawling back into the SUV for cover.

A gentle breeze blew among the trees, making slight rustling sounds calling into the night. Frankie stopped what he was doing and listened hard with a racing heart and mind. Being in the woods always gave him a cold shiver up his spine, as if there were dangers lurking around every bush and tree. He wasn't sure why he'd had so many nightmares about them, but he'd be glad when his can of beer was finished and he'd be safely back in the house with the lights and sounds of family life - television blaring, dishes rattling in the kitchen and Sly laughing at another sitcom.

Pretty soon Luke would grow suspicious of him if he kept insisting on going outside to sit on the deck. So far, his dad had given him room to be by himself, but it wouldn't be long before he was caught in the woods without a proper explanation. For that matter, how was he going to pick up his booze when he moved back to Wyndemere? The servants were like guard dogs around the property, and he couldn't bribe them forever. Frankie was operating one day at a time. It bothered him that his planning abilities seemed to wane. He'd never had this much trouble back at the mansion, but he could anticipate problems back then. Now, he was blindsided at every turn.

Frankie sat on the ground, feeling the cold damp sinking into the seat of his pants and hating every minute of it. He hated that he couldn't seem to control his thoughts and feelings and that he felt continually threatened and on edge. All the medications in the world didn't take that away from him. Maybe he was so used to being in danger that it had become a habit. Frankie pondered that possibility as he reached for a can of beer in the middle of the six pack. Lucky for him he didn’t choose the second can on the right, one of those that were tainted with secret FBI juice. He quickly drained the can, thinking that he felt better as the alcohol rushed into his bloodstream. Too bad he couldn't drink it continually - then he'd be on top of his world.

Frankie suddenly heard the rumble of a car engine and the scraping of wheels meeting the pavement of the driveway. He struggled to his feet and dropped the empty beer can into the pile of brush, pausing to part several saplings so he could get a better view into the night. The lights of a car went out, and there was the sound of voices - a man, woman, someone else, and was that a baby crying? Curiosity got the better of him, and he reached for his crutches.

~*~*~*~

"There you are!" Alexis said happily with a grin that showed both dimples. "We've been looking for you. There's a surprise in the living room."

Frankie smiled and moved as quickly as his crutches would take him. Seated in the living room were his mama, Stefan, Lulu and Nikolas. He was surprised to see his brother, but he shouldn't have been since he'd been the one to find him. "Mama!" he said happily. Laura sprang up and gave him a bear hug, which he gratefully accepted. He looked around the room as she patted him on the back and thanked him for finding his brother. Frankie's eyes narrowed when he caught sight of Nikolas on the couch holding their baby sister. He hadn't realized how quickly and completely he'd stepped into the role of big brother, and now there was an even bigger brother in the picture again.

Frankie leaned heavily on his crutches and tried unsuccessfully to smile at the happy family in front of him, a family that he felt more alienated from by the second. They all seemed to belong together, and he wasn't sure where he fit anymore.

Stefan studied his stepson and noted with concern that he didn't look well. Frankie's usually immaculate hair was a mess, he was pale and with a glazed look in his eyes. He rose to greet the boy and pulled him into a hug of his own. "Thank you," he said in a low voice that only the two of them could hear. "You are a very intelligent boy. I'm grateful for your help."

Frankie settled inside with his confidence coming back since Stefan seemed to still be interested in him. "Thanks." He looked over at Nikolas with a neutral expression on his face, the best he could come up with for someone he'd despised not so long ago. Nikolas returned the same blank look, and it was a near truce for them.

As always, Luke broke the ice with a loud comment. "Do I get to hold my niece now?" He reached for Lulu and took her from Nikolas' arms. Nikolas was relieved anyway because he'd felt and heard the baby release a mother lode while he was holding her. He gave Luke a wicked grin, and Luke's face soon filled with dismay. "Oh my. Did the baby come with a clean diaper?"

Laura laughed and reached for the ever present diaper bag, and the adults were distracted for the moment. Frankie sat down on the couch beside Nikolas and took in a deep breath. "Are you mad at me for ratting you out? Mama and Stefan were real worried. I did it for dem."

Nikolas shrugged away his brother's near apology. "It was time. I was ready to come home. We had a nice vacation, and I cleared out the cobwebs in my head."

"How's da Greek goddess?" Frankie asked intently with a raised eyebrow and an obscene hand motion.

Something about the mixture of child and dirty old man combined in his brother struck Nikolas as being funny, and he laughed. "Athena's good," he stated simply.

"Real good?" Frankie asked lasciviously.

"Read good," Nikolas confirmed with a nod of his head.

Frankie bust out laughing and caught Nikolas' grin. "You're bad," he said appreciatively.  "I wanna go on a trip like dat, but Maxie's stepdad would flay me alive. He's da police commissioner."

"Yeah, I know," Nikolas replied. "It must be a drag having him breathe down your neck."

"You bet."

The conversation lagged, and soon Frankie drifted off to find a newly freshened Lulu. Sly took Frankie's seat and began grilling Nikolas about his vacation and the places he'd seen.

"My turn!" Frankie chided his father. "I wanna hold her." He reached out and snuggled Lulu to his chest, kissing her black hair and making baby sounds to her.

"In a few more days, you'll be back at Wyndemere," Laura said gently. "We'll have a small party to celebrate having all my children together."

"Okay," Frankie stated. His blue eyes brightened, and he smiled broadly when Lulu burped in agreement.

"Young man, you look in need of a haircut," Stefan said with a motion of his hand toward Frankie's head.  

"I know," Frankie complained. "But I don't know where ta go."

"You'll come with me and Nikolas to New York City. That is where we go. It will be a nice trip."

"Yeah," Frankie said excitedly. He was thrilled to be included in Stefan's family plans. "Sounds good."

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