Title: Cliché

Author: Court

Rating: PG-13 to R (chapters will be marked)

Summary: What if in one of the times when Robin needed someone the most, she found the person she was meant to be with all along? What if one night could change the course of your entire life?

Author's note: This story has been a long time coming for me. I know that some of you never watched Robin back in the day, never saw her with Jason or in 'cottage hell', but basically, the entire purpose of this story is to do, well, a number of things, but one of them is to have Robin say/do the things I always wanted her to when it came to the way Jason treated her back when Michael was 'his son' and Carly was throwing herself at him while he was in a relationship with Robin. There will be various references to GH history, especially in the beginning chapters, and I'm going to try to be as accurate as I can. But it was a long time ago, so, I'm bound to make some mistakes in that area. Please, forgive me. LOL. Oh and if you're a Jason (Morgan) fan, uh, let me just warn you ahead of time that I'm not one. And this story is meant to show his flaws, not his wonderful qualities. Not that there is any.

Disclaimer: No, I don't own these characters. Duh!

Chapter One: Emma's Cafe

January 1999

The Penthouse

"Who are you?" she asks the image before her: a tragic reflection of a young woman, pale…fragile…thin…lost. There's an edge, a bitterness that slashes through her words as she says them, as if in that moment everything makes sense, yet somehow doesn't make sense all at once. She can't remember the last time she had actually stopped to think about herself for completely selfish reasons. It was always about someone else. Always about him. Always about the other woman in his life. Always about the boy that wasn't even his son. How could she make it easier for him? How can she further twist her life around and about to where every piece of her somehow exists to protect him? Love him? Keep his secret safe?

She'd read many love stories, seen them in the movies - even came across a few in her short life…lived out one that would forever impact her, and those closest to her, as long as she lived. There was always that romantic notion that two people that fell so deep, so hard, so wondrously in love that they in all possible ways could become one person. But seeing herself in the mirror today, giving herself a long, soul searching gaze for the first time in ages…the romance is lost on her. At least in this particular love story. She is a stranger to herself. And she had never felt so alone in her entire life.

Bringing her hands up to her face, she rubs at her cheeks, finding no moisture there. No tears. She'd cried too many times lately, in her whole life really…more than most. Maybe she was finally all cried out. Maybe she'd finally had enough.

It seemed odd that for months she had been fighting off everyone else she loved…cared about…defending him and what they were to each other to the world and yet - in the space of a night, one conversation…one person could help to put it all into perspective. A stranger. Someone she'd probably never see again. Someone that might have unwittingly saved her from herself…having absolutely nothing to gain from it…

The night before…

It was a scene right out of a classic Christmas movie. Well, sort of. There was snow on the ground and dancing in the air, the tiny crystals covering any and all visible surfaces of the night outside. Needless to say, it was cold. Bone chilling, in fact. Especially to the person that was wandering in it - on foot, no less. Yes, she, Robin Scorpio was stranded - in the middle of nowhere - in some Podunk town on the outskirts of her own Podunk hometown of Port Charles. The white fur lined coat and hat she wore did little to keep her warm under such conditions, but she kept on going in search of a place to find help, and with any luck, a warm beverage as well. "I should have gotten rid of that stupid car a long time ago," she mutters through chattering teeth, tightening her arms around her middle. "Unbelievable!"

It feels like hours, but in reality it's merely a few minutes later when in the midst of mumbling nonsense to herself - while stumbling through the snow in two inch high heels - the thin sheet of falling snow turns into a spray, a horn sounds and a rather fine looking black sports car screeches to a halt beside her. Frighteningly close. Stunned into silence and temporary paralysis, she stands there, jaw dropped, eyebrows narrowed. But when the passenger side window comes down, and the driver addresses her swiftly, cooly even, the fog lifts and her shock simmers into a black, white hot rage.

"So are you going to get in, or not?"

Robin regards him as if he's certifiable and shakes her head. "Excuse me?"

"Look sweetheart, I'm a little pressed for time here. I'm guessing that was your sorry excuse for a car about five miles back and you're trying to be an 'adventure girl' and make your own way without hitching a ride, but I'm here now, so, you can drop the act and get into the car where it's warm. 'K?"

Laughing at his outrageous attitude, she opts to humor him in return and folds her hands over the side of the car, bringing herself down to his level. "As charming as that suggestion sounds - buddy - I think I'm going to have to be honest with you here. And the truth is, I would rather walk the next seven days in this snow and risk losing a toe to frost bite than get into this car with you. So, why don't you just mosey on along before I decide to sue you for nearly knocking me into that ravine!"

The dark haired man looks back at her in disbelief for about a split second before he smiles the most wicked, devilish smile she had ever seen. And then he starts to laugh. "Sue me? And how do you plan on doing that when you're stranded in the middle of nowhere? Are you hoping that the next person that stops - if they stop - has a law degree?"

"Funny. But just so you know, my uncle happens to be the Police Commissioner of Port Charles."

Something in his demeanor changes then, and his expression grows serious. "Did you just say Port Charles?"

"Maybe," she answers carefully. "Why?"

"I'm looking for someone and they might be there, that's why."

A part of her wanted to help him in some strange way, but another told her to give him a taste of his own medicine by matching his prior attitude with one of her own. "Well, I'm not the person you're looking for. If you keep going straight, you'll get there eventually. Goodbye."

"Wait!"

"Look, I don't even know you!" She calls out to him, moving forward, panicking a little when she notices that his car is following her every move, ever so slowly. "Please, just leave me alone!"

"Look, I know I was an asshole, but I swear, I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to talk to you."

Stopping once more, she looks back at him. His brown eyes meet her own for the first time then and her instincts tell her he's harmless. Then again, they had told her that to begin with. Being reckless and an immature prick didn't make him dangerous.

Awkwardly shifting her feet, Robin turns her head, biting her lip in thought when something catches her eye. Closing her eyes and smiling in satisfaction and relief, she looks back at the young man that was probably her age, give or take a year. "Okay."

"Okay?"

Lifting her hand, she points towards the building marked Emma's Café. "There."

His gaze follows her direction and he nods. "Want a lift?"

"No thanks. I'll meet you in there."

Practically giddy, Robin all but hops over to the other side of the street where the little cottage like structure is tucked away. She'd never noticed it before today, but then again, she'd never had a reason to look for such a place. As if it were the yellow brick road leading to her magical Oz, she practically floats over each stepping stone, pausing when she reaches the door.

Looking back over her shoulder, she sees him then: tall, dark, brooding…handsome. Normally she would have felt small and vulnerable beside such a man, but strangely enough, he makes her feel kind of safe from a physical standpoint. And suddenly, what he had said to her before doesn't seem to matter, because those feelings are now replaced by something else; she feels thankful to have him here now, as opposed to being all alone in a strange place. She can't explain why, but that's the feeling she carries with her as they move inside.

"Well, hello, my dear."

"Hello," Robin replies back to their host, a lady looking to be about thirty or so years their senior. "You must be Emma."

"Yes. I've had this little place for about ten years now."

"That's nice," Robin smiles. "Any hot chocolate?"

"Oh yes," Emma assures her. Gesturing towards the small dining room, she invites them in further. "Why don't you have a seat? You're the only customers, as you can see."

"Thank you," her almost-hero chimes in, speaking for the first time since they'd come inside.

"I'll have that hot cocoa out shortly," Emma tells them in her sugar-sweet voice, disappearing into the kitchen.

"Thank you," they call out to her simultaneously, sitting down at the table in the far corner, across from one another.

"I see you have no problem being nice to her," he fires at her, once the older woman is out of earshot.

"She was nice to me," Robin responds, rolling her eyes. "And I could say the same thing about you."

Sighing rather dramatically, he lowers his head for a moment, then looks back up to meet her eyes dead on. "Why don't we start over?"

"I like that idea," she agrees, offering him a faint smile.

Extending his hand, he flashes a toothy grin. "I'm Patrick."

Placing her hand in his, she replies in kind. "I'm Robin."

To be continued…