Craig Wesley is so engrossed in the chart that he is holding that he does not see that the door to the storage closet ahead of him is ajar. He would think nothing of it if he were to see it. That is, until he passes it, and an arm snakes out to pull him into the small alcove.
He is caught totally off-balance as the door slams shut and he feels himself pushed up against it. It is only a moment before his eyes adjust to the dim light and he grins as he finds himself face to face with a certain Dr. Marlena Evans.
Grace plants a hand either side of Craig's head and fixes him with a come-hither smile that has him almost panting with lust. "Hi there." Her voice is breathy and deep.
"Hi," Craig swallows, trying to get some moisture to his suddenly arid tongue.
"Thanks for dropping by," she whispers as she presses herself up against him.
"Where have you been?" he murmurs as his fingers slide down over her hips.
"Just..." she sweeps her lips teasingly past his, "...kinda busy."
"Ah," his hands sweep up her back and Grace feels his fingers tangle in her thick tresses.
She's almost unprepared as he suddenly yanks on her hair, exposing her throat to his lips. She groans as he kisses her and explores the tender skin extensively with his lips and tongue. And when he finally releases her, she fights back; taking his mouth in a battle of wills that goes on for long minutes.
It is someone pushing at the door to get in that finally interrupts them and it is an excruciatingly long moment before they hear the exasperated sigh that signals defeat.
"Perhaps we should take this somewhere more... private," Craig suggests with a wicked smile.
"Somewhere that has a door that locks, maybe?" Grace straightens the blouse that she has poured herself into, and runs her fingers through tangled hair.
"Did I ever tell you that you're a smart lady?" Craig smirks as he straightens his own tie.
"No," the corners of her lips flicker into a smile, "but feel free."
Grace opens the door and peers out into the corridor. It is provisionally deserted and her high heels click on the linoleum as she steps out into the light.
~
Dry. So dry.... Water. Surely there must be some water....
Dark. Can't see. Can't move....
Please... Please anyone. Just some water....
The man's head lolls weakly as he swallows. His throat is so dry he can barely manage it. It is like trying to swallow sandpaper every time he tries. He would open his eyes, but in the dim light, there is nothing to make out.
He is alone, as he has been every day for the last four days. Since *she* brought him here. The woman that bears Marlena's face. Marlena, but not Marlena. Of that much, he is certain. Of anything else, not so.
She brought him here and tied him to the chair with the cord she carried in her bag. A single chair a few feet away from a metal table in the middle of an empty warehouse. He should have been able to escape, but she had tied him so expertly that he had no chance. And as the days stammer by and he becomes weaker, any possible options are swiftly being obliterated.
And now, he wonders what he waits for. Marlena, or whatever she calls herself, has not returned, and he is beginning to wonder if she will at all. He doesn't understand what is happening, but as his mind loses clarity, visions come to him, simultaneously confusing and educating him.
Marlena reading on a hammock in the sun. Marlena wearing a gauzy white dress and dancing with Stefano DiMera. Marlena, her dress torn and her eyes shining with terror beneath him...
The man shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the images. They haunt him with their unclear meaning and frightening pervasiveness. He doesn't know what they mean. He doesn't *want* to know. He just wants to get out of here...
~
John turns around the corner and stops dead as he sees Marlena at the door of her office. Her hand clasps the handle as she looks at her companion and smiles. John knows that look and it makes him go icily cold. That smile and the accompanying flutter of lashes is nothing more than an unequivocal invitation and Craig Wesley doesn't exactly look like he's ready to refuse as he follows her into the office.
It is a moment before John can gather his wits enough to move. His heart is pounding and his legs feel like lead, but he stumbles to her office door and wrenches the knob clockwise with numbed fingers.
"What the...?" he can hardly breathe when he sees Marlena's arms wrapped around Craig's neck and his voice dwindles to a strangled whisper. "Doc?"
Grace looks up, her gaze frigid as she digests the fact that she is being interrupted *again*, and this time by her 'husband'.
"Yes, John?" She doesn't even bother to unwind her limbs from Craig as she challenges the intruder. John says nothing for a moment but Grace watches as his pallor suddenly transforms to an apoplectic red.
John sees Craig's hands encircling Marlena's waist in a possessive manner and he completely loses his cool. "Get away from my *wife*." He crosses the floor to the couple and bodily wrenches Craig out of Marlena's embrace.
"How *dare* you!" Grace doesn't raise her voice, but her fury is more than evident. "Who the *hell* do you think you are?"
"Your *husband*." John glares back at her, defying her to disagree with him.
"Only when it suits you." Grace's jaw is set in a firm line as she narrows her eyes. "I seem to remember that you quite conveniently forgot that fact when you scored your little 'bit on the side'."
"Marlena, I *explained* that," John declares exasperatedly and then turns to glare at Craig. "Do you mind? I'd like to talk to my wife. In *private*."
Craig's eyes move from John to Marlena and he raises his brows to indicate his uncertainty.
Grace sighs and nods. "I won't be long. I'll find you."
He nods and ducks from the room, glad to be out of the firing line of the verbal barrage that is surely about to take place.
"What do you think you're doing Marlena?" John demands angrily, his face red and pained.
"What do you mean?" She seems genuinely at a loss.
"I mean, I walk into your office and you're all over *him*." The pain burns in his eyes as he confronts her, the prospect of losing her completely destroying him emotionally. "Is this supposed to be some kind of revenge?"
"You flatter yourself," she says icily as she turns from him.
"For God's sake Marlena," strong fingers curl around her upper arm. "Don't walk away from me. Not now. We need to deal with this."
"I *am* dealing with it." Grace feels uncomfortably angry and she silently berates herself for letting this man get under her skin. With deliberate obtuseness, she refuses to turn and meet his gaze.
"How? By throwing yourself at another man?" John pushes. "C'mon Doc, I *know* how seriously you take your marriage vows."
"Don't you *dare* talk to me about marriage vows." She turns to him now and he can see the unfettered disgust in her eyes. "Not after what you did."
"Don't you think if I could change what happened, I would?" John cries. "Doc, don't you know that it's *killing* me to know that it was *me* that hurt you so badly when I swore to you that I'd always love and cherish and protect you?"
"They're only words John." Grace crosses her arms and leans against the desk. "You've always had a way with words, but unfortunately, of late, I've been forced to realize that your words and your actions tell two very different stories."
"Doc, I'm telling you how I feel." John lowers himself to the sofa and buries his face in his hands momentarily. "I can't change it. I only want to forget it ever happened."
"Well you *can't*." Grace's reply is riddled with contempt. "Hope is having your *child*. That's a fairly permanent reminder of your infidelity, isn't it?"
"We don't *know* that the baby is mine," John corrects her quickly. "Not for sure."
"Oh yeah, that makes me feel *so* much better," Grace's mockery rings with sarcasm and she rolls her eyes. "Oh, for God's sake John. You screwed a woman who is practically your sister. That doesn't just 'go away'."
"I didn't *know* I was doing it Marlena," John slams the arm of the sofa in frustration. "How many times do I have to say it?"
"Then why did you lie to me, to *everyone* about it?" Grace zeroes in on the one flaw in his logic with frightening aloofness. "Why did you hide it away like a dirty little secret that no-one could find out about?"
"Because I didn't want to hurt you." John knows it's a pathetic excuse. "Because I was scared Marlena. Because I don't want to lose you."
"But why would you lose me if it wasn't an affair?" She shakes her head angrily. "Oh this is useless. Why are we even *having* this conversation?"
She turns around and reaches for the planner on her desk. She has much more important things to deal with.
"Because we want to save this marriage," John replies uncertainly.
"We do?" Grace feigns surprise as she looks back over her shoulder. "Please don't assume that you speak for me John. Not any more."
John pauses for a moment, nothing short of shocked at her tone which is a contrived mixture of boredom and disdain. "Doc," he swallows, his heart, pounding in his ears. "*Please*."
"*No*." Her reply is vitriolic. "I've *had* it. You betrayed me. You betrayed our marriage vows, and then to add insult to injury, you fobbed me off with lies for months." Her beautiful face is marred by scowl. "I don't like being taken for a fool, John. I don't like it and I'm not about to let it happen again."
"I never thought you were a fool Marlena," John says in surprise. "But I can promise you it won't ever happen again. Period."
"You're right, it won't." She nods frigidly. "Because I want *your* things out of *my* apartment, by the weekend."