"Well *exactly*." Grace turns around, impaling him with her furious glare. "This was supposed to be something simple and without strings. After John, the last thing I want is another man fawning over me, demanding something from me that I can't give."
"I'm sorry Marlena," he sits up and wrap his arm around her. "I know it's not what either of us wanted, but I just can't help it. When I saw you with that kid down at the pier, I couldn't help it. I was so intensely jealous... it wasn't something I'd ever felt before. And then when I had to leave you with *him*..."

"You know what?" Grace shrugs off his arm and slips her legs from the sofa, standing as she wraps the blanket around her shivering body. "You were right the first time. You have no claim on me Craig and I *don't* want your love or your jealousy. I have enough of that from my *husband* thank you."

"Marlena, I'm sorry." He looks surprised and dejected. "I didn't think..."
"Obviously," is her harsh answer.

He looks away at the setting sun and then back at Marlena. "I think you should go now," she says coldly.
"Marlena-" he starts as he swings his own legs off the sofa. "C'mon, surely it?s not that bad. Why does it have to be such an issue?"
"Because it complicates things," she says wearily, her exhaustion getting the better of her so that her anger fades a little. "Look, I'm sure you're a nice guy, which is why you should go home and be with your wife now. You might think you love me, but you don't know me Craig, and honestly, I'm not sure you'd want to."
"I know enough to know I'm crazy about you," he says as he pushes himself from the sofa and moves towards her. "You know, if it's about Nancy, I'll leave her if you want. I'll move out and find myself a place..."

"No, I don't want that," she shakes her head, her vulnerability hidden once again. "I want simple and uncomplicated. I want *sex*, I don't want love or tenderness or any of that. I don't want you to leave your wife for me. I don't even want *you* Craig. I just want your body when I want it, that's all."
"*I* didn't want those things either, until you came along," he says pointedly as he places his hand on the curve of her waist. "I mean, love and tenderness. But things change, Marlena. Pain fades and you can move on."
"Moving on is what I'm counting on," she replies unequivocally. "But not in the way you mean. Which is why you should leave. I've already asked you once, don't make me do it again." She removes his hand from her waist and stares at him, announcing her intentions with hard eyes.

"Marlena, please don't do this," he begs desperately. "Okay, we'll keep it casual. I won't mention it again. Whatever you want...."
"What I want, is for you to go," she sounds almost bored as she looks away. "Go back to your nice little home and your nice little wife, Craig. It's been fun, let's not ruin it with dramatics, huh?"

Craig stares at her but he hears the resolution in her voice and he knows what it means only too well. He had said similar words himself more than once when some lovelorn girl had begged him to leave Nancy. He had never thought he might feel the same way about someone else. Or that they would actually turn him down.

Without a word, he goes to where his pants lay crumpled on the floor and he pulls them on. Collecting his shirt, he pulls it on, trying to avoid Marlena's gaze as he does so. He is embarrassed and angry, partly with her for seducing him in the first place, and partly with himself, for letting himself fall in love with her like some kind of angst-ridden adolescent.

"You know, maybe you should have considered the possibility that I might fall for you when you involved me in your little games to begin with," he says angrily as he snatches his tie from the ground close to her.
"Oh please, *do* make this all my fault, won't you?" Grace answers his accusation with icy sarcasm. "Of course you couldn't have just said 'no'. You couldn't have actually thought about the consequences *yourself*." She laughs bitterly. "On second thoughts, just leave before you sound any *more* like my husband."
"Don't worry," he slips on his shoes and grabs his jacket. "I am leaving. And your husband is welcome to you."

"No," she shakes her head. "No-one is welcome to me. That's the thing you men all seem to have problems understanding."
"No wonder you play the whore so well." The nasty words come from Craig's mouth before he can pull them back. He doesn't really mean it, but he wants to hurt her, just like she's hurt him. "Sounds like you've had plenty of experience."

"Get out." Grace's voice is low and almost menacing. "Get out of my house *now*."
"No problem." He goes to the door and opens it. Looking backwards, his heart twists as he takes in the vision that she is, with her hair golden and tousled and the blanket draped around her curvaceous form. He still wants her, even despite his anger. He will probably always want her. Miserably, he turns and leaves the penthouse, slamming the door behind him.

"Damn!" Grace turns and looks at her own clothes, which are strewn across the floor. Why the hell did he have to screw it up by going and falling 'in love'? That is *so* pathetic. He had known from the start that it was only a fling. How hard was it to understand? A fling is a fling. That's pretty basic as far as Grace is concerned.

She mixes herself another martini before she makes her way to the stairs and begins to climb them, her body protesting as it begins to stiffen slightly from the afternoon's exertions.

Of course, it is probably a blessing in disguise, she reflects as she nears the top of the staircase. He has been getting a little clingy the past few days and assuming a little too much. It would not do to have him get in the way of her plans.

And as good as the sex was, realistically, she doesn't *need* the sex. If she has an itch she needs to scratch, she is quite capable of going out and finding herself someone to scratch it. She looks at her reflection in the glass door and smiles. After all, it's not like she's not gorgeous and eminently desirable....

And it's not like there's any shortage of good-looking men in Salem. Even within the Brady family. Grace walks into Marlena's bedroom with a thoughtful smile tracing her lips. Maybe it's time she sets the proverbial cat among the pigeons and see what results.

~

John stares at the Brady family as they continue to discuss the afternoon's events. They've been discussing it for hours now and there is no resolution, only the same ideas tossed over and over until they've become so old and ragged that nobody knows what to do with them any more.

John knows better than anyone that words will not get them anywhere. But one has to know what action to take to actually take it. Abe told them earlier that one of his units had reported that Stefano had dropped Marlena home, but no-one seems sure if they should go over to make sure that she is all right. John knows he can't go over there. Judging by recent history, he will only make things worse. And being that he's still furious at Marlena for her actions at the church that's probably more than definite.

But what can any of them do really? If Marlena is so angry that she is prepared to defy all of them and turn to Stefano, what can they say to make her see reason? This all seems so insane, so surreal. So wrong.

"John?" Sami slips into the booth opposite her step-father. "Do you want something to drink? A tea, or a coffee or something?"
"No thanks Samantha." He shakes his head. "Thanks anyway."
"I wish you'd let me help." Sami crosses her arms and leans back against the booth seat.
"You can't Sami," John shakes his head miserably. "If I thought you could peanut, you know I'd ask you to, but I just don't think..."

He hears the murmur from the family group and looks up to see Marlena standing in the doorway of the pub. His heart leaps into his throat at the sight of her. Her hair is piled up on top of her head and she is wearing a long leather coat. As it swings open, he can see that she is wearing black leather pants which look as thought they've been sprayed on over high-heeled boots. He can see her midriff below a white cropped top and by the look of her toned muscles, it seems as though she's been working out.

"What's with all the long faces?" She asks as she saunters towards the family. "You all look as though someone died." An odd smile comes over her face and she giggles. "Oh I forgot, someone did."

"*Mom*!" Sami slides out from her seat across from John and strides across to where Marlena is leaning against one of the support posts. "Have you been drinking?"
"Just a couple, honey," she winks, "you should try it some time. Might loosen you up a little."
"Marlena," Caroline's mouth is set in a line that is so thin, Grace wonders if she swallowed her lips. "I'm glad to see you are all right. We were worried about you."
"Seems like you did a lot about it too huh?" Grace looks around the assembled family and her eyes settle on Abe. "Even the commander is here huh? I suppose you sent some of your keystone cops out after big bad Stefano DiMera huh? I mean, while you sat around here and discussed how I was betraying the family or what ever it was you were having this 'Brady Bunch' conference over."

"Okay Marlena," she feels John's hands on her shoulders but it's not a surprise. She had sensed him behind her even before he had arrived. "That's quite enough."
"Oh it is, is it?" she turns around, using her forearms to bad away his grip. "Why? Because you said so? John Black, saviour of the Brady family. Is that how it goes?"
"You don't mean this Marlena, so why don't we just go and sit down?" he takes her hand and gestures to the booth he had been sitting in earlier.
"The *hell* I don't mean it," she wrenches her hand from his grasp, playing up her drunk act for all she is worth. "And get your fucking hands off me, Black."

"Marlena," Bo rises from his seat, hoping he can calm the situation before it gets any more out of hand. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
"Sure, Bo honey," she glares at John for a long moment before she turns to Bo and lets him lead her away from the family. She is aware that Hope is watching them in what she thinks is a discreet manner and she determines to make good use of it.

"Marlena..." Bo pauses, not quite sure what tack to take with his sister-in-law. Not given their last meeting. "I know you and John are having a rough time, but I don't really think this is a good time to get into it."
"Oh?" Grace lifts her eyebrows as she bows her head a little which means that she is looking up at Bo from under not-so-innocent lashes. "What would be a good time Bo?"
"I only mean that Mom and Pop have had a rough day. And despite what you think, we were all worried about you." His eyes are a velvety brown as he tries to convey his sincerity. "But you *did* get into the car with Stefano of your own free will. What could we do?"
"You were worried huh?" Her lips flicker into the hint of a smile as she takes a step closer to Bo. "I think you've been thinking about me rather more than you'd like lately, haven't you little brother-in-law?"

"Marlena!" Bo's eyes widen as he is caught by her knowing gaze. He can't deny her claim, as much as he wants to, and the muscles in his abdomen tense as she reaches out and lays her palm flat against his stomach.
"I know you're curious, Bo. Why don't you just admit it?"
"What's the point, Marlena?" he replies through clenched teeth.
"Does there have to be one?" she asks as she slides her hand up his chest with a knowing smile. "Unless you decide you want to *explore* some of those fantasies you've been having...."

"Excuse me Marlena," Hope's voice is sharp as she waddles across to where Bo and Marlena are standing. "Do you mind telling me exactly why you have your hands all over my fiancée?"
"It's okay Fancy-F-" Bo tries to pour oil on the troubled waters, but it's too late as Marlena ignores his interruption.
"Yes I do actually Hope," she purses her lips as she turns to the irritation standing in front of her.
"Well, try it anyway," Hope replies with unabated sarcasm as she folds her own arms atop her swollen belly.
"I *really* don't think you want to get into this with me, Hope," Grace warns, knowing exactly where this is leading and determined to milk it for everything it's worth.
"I *really* think I do," Hope's lips are white as she glares at Grace. "I don't think that just because you're having problems with your marriage, it gives you the right to go around throwing yourself at anyone else's partner."
"Oh, is that right?" Grace's laugh is high pitched as she notices the rest of the family turning to take note of the conversation. "Is that what you think Hope?"
"That's what I think," Hope nods, a forced smile crossing her face.

"And what do you think about this, Bo?" she turns to the man beside her.
"I think she's right, Marlena," Bo replies warily.
"Doc," John's voice cuts desperately across the conversation as he comes up behind Hope. "Marlena, leave it be, will you?"
"You know Bo," Grace ignore's John's plea as she lifts her index finger and rests it against her lips. "I wonder if perhaps Hope should have taken a little of her own advice when she went after *my* husband before my wedding."
"She was Gina, Marlena, you know that," Bo shakes his head. "Besides, I'm not sure what you're getting at."

"Oh, she was Gina," Grace nods thoughtfully. "That's mighty convenient, isn't it? Covers a multitude of sins, or so I've heard."
"Doc!" John can't believe this is happening. It's like a train wreck that he has no way of averting. And it's all his fault. "Doc, *don't*."
"What do you mean, *convenient*?" Hope asks irritably. "You think I'm *lying* about the fact that I lost a year of my life?"
"*Lying*?" Grace rolls her head to one side, "I don't know that I'd go quite *that* far Hope honey, but it *does* seem strange to me that all it took was dear old Daddy to sing you a song to snap you out of this 'Gina' persona." She looks back at Bo, her eyebrows arched again. "It rather seems to put you out in the cold, doesn't it Bo? While *you*, the love of her life, couldn't bring Hope back, a silly song was all that it took."

"*What* are you trying to say Marlena?" Hope demands, fury flashing in her dark eyes now.
"I'm saying Hope, that maybe you *wanted* to be Gina. While it suited your purposes. While you and my husband could carry on your sordid little affair and conceive your little bundle of *joy*. On my honeymoon, no less."

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