"He *killed* himself?" Grace blinks, her cultivated expression of surprise quite implacable.
"Last night," Craig repeats, suddenly quite enjoying himself. "He left quite a detailed note about his last session with you. Said that you made him see the truth."
"I don't know what-"
"Oh come on, Marlena," Craig says nastily, "you and I both know you're not quite the saint you make out you are. So don't bother trying the innocent routine with me. It's not going to cut it."
"Exactly what are you implying Doctor?" Grace demands. Her expression is one of pure indignation, but beneath the façade, she is laughing. It's perfect. Absolutely perfect.
"I'm implying that you know more about the Davies case than you're going to tell me. And the board agrees with me." A smarmy smile slides onto Craig's lips. "They've commissioned an independent review of your handling of the case. And you are suspended until the outcome is reported to the board."
"Oh, is that right?" Grace pushes her chair out from the desk and stands with her hands on the magazine. "And I suppose you argued a very convincing case for this course of action?"
"I am the Chief Medical Officer and responsible for the efficient functioning of this hospital," Craig replies smoothly. "It wouldn't do to have a loose cannon in our psychiatry team, Marlena. After everything you have been through, I think a period of leave is well in order anyway."
"Even so, Dr. Wesley," Grace says smoothly as she comes out from behind her desk. Her electric blue halter neck dress is so short that it leaves little to his imagination and he finds it momentarily hard to concentrate on her words. But they soon catch his attention and he feels his stomach coil. "I do wonder how the board will feel when they learn that your recommendations come only one *day* after I ended our affair. Sleeping with a subordinate and then punishing her for ending the affair would, in most circles, be construed as the very *worst* form of sexual harassment, I think." She raises her eyebrows with a devious smile.
~
"What?" John isn't sure that he wants to understand what Bo is trying to tell him.
"I'm sorry man," Bo looks utterly miserable as he looks up at John. "I... I don't even know how it happened. I went to the boat and Marlena was already *there* man, and one moment we were commiserating over a glass of wine and then next..."
"The next...?" John prompts tersely.
"She was..." Bo looks away, "Oh man, this is fucking *insane*. This whole situation is like some sick nightmare."
"What did she do, Bo?" John feels sick himself as he waits for Bo's answer. He suspects he already knows what it is going to be and the knowledge terrifies him. Its like reality is spinning out of control and he has no idea of how to get a handle on anything going on around him.
"Uh..." Bo's fingers tighten around the handle of the mug. "I've never seen her like that before John. She was like a different woman."
"What did she *do*, Bo?" John can feel every muscle in his body tensing.
"She..." Bo takes a deep breath, "she ended up on my lap and..." he swallows and looks down at his coffee again, wishing this *was* a nightmare and he could wake up. "She was *very* insistent that we should get a little... uh.... revenge."
"She tried to seduce you," John looks away before Bo's wretched glance confirms his worst fears.
"Yeah..." Bo closes his eyes, remembering the strange look in Marlena's eyes as she had pulled away from him. "She started to, but then she pulled away, said she couldn't do it. That's when Hope found us."
"And that's why Hope went to see Marlena," John nods, a few pieces of the jigsaw falling into place.
"That's why." Bo nods unhappily. "I'm so sorry man. I was so fucking *angry* with you and Hope. I didn't understand how something like that could happen and then I almost went and did it myself."
"It's a little different, Bo," John reminds him.
"Yeah, you and Hope thought that you were different people." Bo nods as he draws his fingers through his hair.
"I meant that you and Marlena were very hurt and angry and with every right to be..." John claps his hand on Bo's shoulder. "Doesn't absolve you of the wrongdoing Bo, but I'm not going to hold it against you. Of all people, I am hardly in a position to cast stones."
"Thanks man," Bo's shoulders relax considerably in the face of John's words. To know that John somehow understands makes him feel a lot better.
"I will tell you now though," John raises his eyebrows, his cerulean eyes frighteningly intense, "if you *ever* lay a hand on my wife again, I *will* break every one of your fingers."
~
"Marlena, this is a valid concern," Craig argues uncomfortably.
"Is it?" Grace leans back against the edge of her desk and crosses her arms. "Or is your judgement being clouded by some adolescent need for revenge?"
"You flatter yourself Marlena, if you think you mean that much to me," he narrows his eyes and glares at her from under heavy lids.
"Well, after all," she shrugs easily, "you *were* the one professing undying love in my apartment yesterday, weren't you?"
"Look, I wasn't thinking straight," he flings his hand in the air in frustration to make his point. "I got all caught up in the moment." Her accusations are making his blood boil, but despite his anger and denials, he's still aroused by her and it's making things very difficult. It's difficult to mount a useful defence when he's not at all sure she's wrong. And when he can't stop staring at her body.
"Hmmmm..." one corner of Grace's mouth twists into a smile. "I wonder how your wife would accept that pitiful explanation." She laughs lightly, but there is no humor in the sound and Craig's eyes widen in comprehension.
"Are you trying to blackmail me?" he manages to spit out.
"Blackmail....." she smiles, "....that's such a…. *dirty* word, don't you think?"
She stands and walks towards him, noting the slight stiffening in his posture as she nears him and her smile is shrewd. She comes to a halt before him and reaches out a hand to his tie. Patting it into place, she trails her fingers along his shoulder as she moves around him.
Craig is barely breathing as he feels her at the back of him, so close that she is almost pressed against him. But not quite. And then he feels her breath against his ear and he has to struggle to keep from audibly groaning.
"I prefer to think of it as more of an... exchange," she says breathily. "You bury the note and the review, and I keep what I know about *you*, to myself." Her hand slides from his shoulder down over his back until it reaches his buttock and she grins.
"Marlena," his voice is hoarse as he steps away from her and turns around. It takes every bit of self-restraint he has just to stand there calmly. "You have nothing to take to Nancy. She wouldn't believe you, even if you did go to her."
"Oh don't worry, honey," Grace's expression exudes wickedness, "I'll *make* her believe me. I can be..." she raises her eyebrows, "very persuasive. Besides...." she shrugs, "I'm one of the most respected members of this community. What would I have to gain by lying to your wife?" She takes several steps towards him again and slides her hand around to his buttock, squeezing it this time. "And let's face it, we both know it's the truth. I'm sure if I gave Nancy enough of the gruesome details...."
"Marlena!" He grabs her wrist and pulls her from him. He's desperate now, he's in over his head and he knows she won't hesitate to carry out her threats. "*Don't*. You can't do this to her.... It'll destroy her."
"Then bury it Craig," her face is deadly serious now. "I know you can. Just go to the board and tell them we talked it through and you believe I did everything in my power to *help* that poor, young man."
The sarcasm in her voice utterly astounds Craig and he blinks several times as he looks at her. "Dear God, you really encouraged the poor bastard to do it, didn't you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," she shakes her head, quite convincing in her lie. Well, she would have been to anyone who hadn't been party to the previous conversation.
"I can't," he shakes his head. "I can't bury the letter Marlena, the police already have it in their possession."
"Well," Grace raises her eyebrows, but she gives away nothing of what she's thinking, "that's too bad for you then, isn't it?"
~
John's discomfort only grows as he walks away from Bo's house. Bo might be feeling better, but John certainly doesn't. He doesn't understand what is happening to Marlena and he's scared for her and for them. First Craig Wesley and now Bo? It's *so* unlike Marlena to do this. What the hell is happening? Surely it can't be his revelations alone that have lead her to behave so out of character.
He stops short as he remembers the scene in the penthouse yesterday. When he had first walked in and looked up to see Marlena, he could have *sworn* that she was smiling. But *why* would she have been smiling? It just doesn't make any sense and so he had put it down to a trick of the mind. He had simply misread her expression in that moment of panic.
But it's so clear, that vision of her standing up there in that blood-red gown....
He shakes his head. No, this is *insane*. Bo's right, it's like a bad nightmare. And like in a bad nightmare, everything that is awful is magnified and he's starting to see things where none exist.
After all, this is *Marlena*. His Marlena, the woman he adores, that he loves more than life itself. She is the best person, the most compassionate, loving person that he knows. She might be angry at Hope, but she loves her. Hope is family and Marlena would not let her anger overcome her humanity.
He sighs as he reaches his car and unlocks the front door. There is so much that he doesn't understand, but that doesn't mean that he's going to stop trying. He's going to go to Marlena's tonight and try and reach her through that tough fortress she's built to protect herself. He's going to try and work out what's going on inside her head. That's the only way he can start to make sense of this, and begin to mend it.
~
"Marlena, you can't do this," Craig follows her to the door.
"Watch me," she hisses.
"Marlena, I can't *do* anything. The matter is out of my hands now."
"Like I said," she turns the handle, "too bad for you."
"Marlena, are you really that vindictive?" he places his hand against the door and pushes it closed. "We both know it wasn't about revenge."
"No, we don't know that," she crosses her arms, her purse dangling in front of her. "*I* don't know that."
"What can I do to convince you?" he pleads with her.
"Nothing," she shakes her head, her lips pursed. "You can expect my letter of resignation to go to the board tomorrow."
"Resignation?" He's momentarily floored.
"It will outline, in *detail*, my reasons for leaving, primarily the fact that you seem to need to punish me for breaking off our liaison." Grace raises her eyebrows. "Seems like you took the phrase 'working under you' a little too literally Dr. Wesley."
"Marlena, this is *insanity*," he shouts. "Dammit, *you* seduced me. You started this affair, you ended it and now...." he stares at her in shock and his voice fades. "...now I have no idea what you're up to. God, maybe you were right, maybe I don't know you. Maybe no-one around here *really* knows the 'respectable' Dr. Marlena Evans."
"Oh, they know her all right," Grace smirks, "she's just made a few changes recently."
"What do you want?" Craig closes his eyes and leans against the door. "What the hell do you want from me, Marlena?"
"Want?" Grace laughs. "I'm not sure that I *want* anything from you." She pauses and then carefully leans towards him, like a large cat, hunting her prey. He tenses as she flicks her tongue across his bottom lip. "I already got everything I ever wanted from you, Dr. Wesely."
With that, she pushes him aside and opens the office door, leaving him stunned and panicked as he contemplates just what she could do to his career and personal life.
As she walks out through the anteroom, she stops at Cynthia's desk and shrewdly eyes the secretary.
"Please make sure that you lock the office after Dr. Wesley leaves Cynthia."
Cynthia nods, her eyes wide and she watches Grace continue to the door.
"Oh, by the way Cynthia," Grace adds casually, "you're fired. Please clear your desk. I'd like you gone by the time I come back."