Mac Scorpio was mad. Who did Spencer think he was, calling him first thing in the morning, when he was still in the shower and demanding to see him immediately? The only reason he was giving him the time of day was because of the link with Faison. It was possible that Luke had some information on him, or even on Helena. But still...Why couldn't Luke be like most people and come down to the station, or even calling his office. No, Luke had to be Luke. Cocky, arrogant, know-it-all.....Mac pushed open the door of the club and stalked inside, more angry than when he had left his house a while ago. "Spencer, you'd better have a damned good reason for dragging me...." Mac stopped cold in his tracks when he saw the young man sitting next to Luke.
"I think it's a pretty damned good reason, Commissioner, don't you? Luke took a smuggled cigar out of his mouth and examined it leisurely before stubbing it out in the ash tray.
For once, Mac ignored the cockiness in Luke's voice, and moved forward in wonder. "Lucky?" His head swiveled toward Luke. "You found him?"
"Well, what was I supposed to do, Mac, leave it to the PCPD? He'd be in his thirties before I ever saw him again."
"Lucky..." Mac walked forward and laid his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Wow...welcome home." Mac knew it sounded lame, but he couldn't think of anything else to say at the moment.
Lucky nodded and Mac got down to business. "Well, I know that the PCPD headquarters is probably the last place you'd want to be right now, but I'm afraid I'll need you to come down and make a statement. We'll try to make this as brief and painless as possible." When he saw that he wasn't going to get any argument from either of them he offered to drive Lucky downtown.
"I'll drive him." Luke said quickly. He wasn't about to hand his kid over to Mac.
An hour later Luke and Lucky were finished and Lucky was finally looking at the home he had longed for the past year. He pushed the door open and took a deep breath as the emotions started rolling over him. The house looked a little different, but it was still basically the same. He could smell the scent of baked ham coming from the kitchen and the spicy floral scent of the potpourri that Laura always used. It was home. He was snapped out of his reverie by the sound of a beautiful little voice crying his name out joyfully, "Lucky, Lucky, Lucky!" Leslie Lu came hurtling down the stairs and launched herself into his outstretched arms. He hugged her tightly as tears slipped freely down his cheeks.
To Laura, watching from the stairs, it was the most beautiful scene she had ever witnessed. She pulled a tissue out of her pocket and wiped her eyes. Lukes gaze came up to meet hers and communicated an emotion that went way beyond words.
Lulu finally let go of her big brother and ran to the kitchen to get the picture she'd drawn for him. Lucky hugged Laura again, and then turned to Leslie who had emerged from the kitchen. She took Lucky in her arms and whispered, "Welcome home, Lucky."
"Thanks, Grandma," he said. Just then Lulu ran back and handed him the picture she had been working on all morning. Lucky gazed at the childish drawing with a smile on his face. Lulu had drawn a picture of their family standing together with the house in the background. "Thank you, Lulu. It's beautiful. I'll go hang it up in my room." But before he could go up the stairs, the kitchen door flew open with a bang and Lucky was almost knocked flat as a streak of brown fur bounded across the room and jumped up on him. "Foster!" Lucky laughed and removed the giant paws from his chest. He scratched the dog behind the ears affectionately. "I guess you didn't forget me, did you boy?"
When Lucky went up to his room Luke follwed him, explaining that he needed to talk to him about something. After Lucky saw the room, he realized what his dad wanted to tell him. "Don't, Dad. I already know what happened, and it's not important. It was just stuff." Faison had taken pleasure in telling Lucky about the time Luke had thrown Lucky's things out the window in a fit of grief and rage.
"I'm sorry, Cowboy," said Luke.
"Don't be, please, Dad." Lucky sat on the bed and looked around the room. "What's important is being here, not having all that junk I collected over the years. I wasn't using it anyway." he gave his dad an encouraging smile. "I might need to borrow some clothes from you, though. I need to take a shower in a big way, and I don't have anything to change into."
"I think I still have some clothes here, I'll go check. As Luke started to leave the room, he turned around and looked at Lucky one more time. "Welcome home, son." he said simply.