"Dammit, John!" Abe slams down the receiver once again, his frustration getting the better of him. The phone in John's room at the Salem Inn seems to have been engaged since Abe started trying and John is not answering his cell phone. Abe desperately needs to get in touch with him thanks to a visit first thing from the D.A.'s office. They are insisting that Abe questions Marlena in relation to Roman's death and Abe can't stall them much longer.
He needs to locate John and find out if he managed to talk to Marlena about this last night. Because the way things are going, Abe is going to have no choice but to talk to her himself if John has had no success.
He thumps the desk with the heel of his palm and looks up at the busy office. Against the far wall, the pictures of Roman's body stand out, starkly mocking him and his lack of progress in this case.
Still, if he gets this business with Marlena over, he can at least go back to the job of finding Roman's killer. Standing up, he adjusts his shoulder holster and pulls on his jacket. If he can't get John on the phone, he's just going to have to go and see his friend in person.
~
You didn't know....you didn't know it wasn't *her*, did you John? You made love to *me* and you didn't even care that it wasn't *her*....
The mocking laughter that sounds in his dream fades rapidly as John wakes with a start, his bleary eyes focussing on the sad water-stain that marks the ceiling above his bed.
"That's not true," he whispers as though the phantom of his dream is still with him. "I knew.... I knew it wasn't you, Doc." He moves slightly and his muscles protest excruciatingly. "*Dammit*!" He winces as he tries to look at the clock, but *she* must have pulled the plug from the wall at some point and he has no idea what the time is. He has been dozing on and off, when his mind is not racing at a thousand miles an hour, but he is still no closer to getting out of his predicament.
"How am I going to get you back Doc? Who is she baby, and what is she doing here instead of you?" It's odd, but talking out loud like this to Marlena somehow helps John feel closer to her, like she is simply asleep and all he has to do is find her and wake her up.
It's an oversimplified way of looking at it, he knows, but otherwise he feels so damn helpless.... And the last thing he needs to feel is helpless, not if he's going to find out how to get Marlena back.
His mind is so busy turning over the problem, he doesn't even hear the key in the door and the first sign he has that the housemaid has entered the room is the rapid-fire string of Hail Mary's that come from the woman at the doorway.
John looks up to see her spin away in embarrassment and he yanks at the cuffs.
"NO! Don't go!" he pleads. "Please, you have to help me!"
The Hispanic woman stops and John can feel his heart hammering in his chest. He isn't sure who is more embarrassed as she turns around.
"Senor?" she keeps her eyes averted from him as she waits and John can feel his face heat with the rising blush.
"Uh..." for a moment he wishes the ground would open up and swallow him. "I... I need you to get someone who can cut through these handcuffs." He rattles the cuffs, ignoring the pain in his wrists and shoulders. "Can you do that for me?"
"Si senor," she nods, her eyes still averted and she turns quickly, as though desperate to escape from the room. John bets it's not far from the truth.
"Uh..." he clears his throat slightly to gain her attention before she leaves the room and she stops several feet short of the door. He can see the tension in her shoulders and he can tell she is dreading his question. "Uh, I don't suppose you could throw a sheet over me.... what did you say your name was?"
He waits for a reply and he thinks for a moment that she might simply ignore his request but finally, she turns around once again.
"Consuelo, senor," she mutters as she scurries to the bed, her eyes downcast. Grabbing the sheet, she flings it over his body, not even stopping to look and see if she has covered him effectively. "Consuelo Martinez."
"Well, Consuelo Martinez, my name is John Black and if you get me someone who can get these handcuffs off me, there'll be a reward in it for you," John tells her as the sheet settles over his lower body.
"Si senor," Consuelo repeats with a nod of the head. She turns for the door, with a sudden air of determination and John smiles grimly. At least now he's closer to getting out of here, even if he's no closer to working out how to get Marlena back.
~
Grace turns over in bed, her skin slithering across the satin sheets, her blonde hair sprawling across the blood red pillow. The sunlight flickers across a slender leg and slowly crawls over the inert body as she whimpers softly.
Candlelight... golden candlelight and red wine as they sit on the sofa, entwined in each other's arms. She can still taste the strawberries.... the sweetness lingers along with the taste of him.
~It's research.~
~Mmmm, research this.~
~Yeah... it's *important* research.~
~Yeah well... so's your neck....~
His lips burn a trail into her flesh and her pulse leaps under his touch.
~.... and your nose. Have I ever told you how much I love your nose?~
~You do?~
~Mmmmm~
~Ohhh~
~Mmmmm-hmmm~
His thumb slides along her jaw and his lips are sweet and warm against hers.
~Mmmm.... Honey?~
~Mmmm-hmm?~
~*Tell me*~
~Doc?~
~Mm-hmm?~
~Do you want me to stop?~
~No.~
~Shut up.~
He kisses her again, softly, delicately and then pulls back to look at her, his eyes darkly intense and passionate. She can feel his thumb stroking her face again and she trembles with the strength of the feelings welling up inside her.
~I love you.~
~I love you too.~
Gasping, Grace sits bolt upright in bed, chilled and shaking. She glances around her, her eyes wide with confusion and something that closely resembles fear. It takes her several moments to get her bearings, and when she does, she pulls her knees up to her chest and rests her chin on them as she wills herself back to a state of calm.
"Dammit!" she curses as she leans over to grab her robe. Pulling it on over her shoulders, she runs her hands up over her face and through her tangled blonde hair. "*Damn* him."
Her head is aching as she climbs off the bed and looks around the bedroom. She realizes almost immediately there is nothing left of John's to take her frustration out on and it makes her only angrier.
"This is not *happening* to me," she screams as she picks a hairbrush up off the dresser and hurls it across the room. It bounces off the wall harmlessly but the bottle of Marlena's perfume that follows it does not fare so well. The crystal shatters, liquid trickling down the wall and a pungent scent pervading the air.
Turning on her heel, Grace storms from the room, her robe streaming behind her.
~
"John?" Abe steps uncertainly into the room as the maintenance man packs up his tools. John is sitting on the bed with a sheet wrapped around him and he's rubbing his wrists. The remains of two pairs of handcuffs lie on the bed-stand next to the phone, which remains off the hook.
"Hey partner," John looks up at Abe, embarrassment flooding his face. He's already realized he can't explain to Abe exactly what happened here without tipping him off that Marlena is not Marlena. And if Abe knows that, the playing field changes totally. John cannot allow that, not now.
"What's going on here, buddy?" Abe's brow furrows as the maintenance man leaves the room. "I've been trying to call you for a couple of hours."
"Yeah, well... uh," John clears his throat, his face flushed with mortification. "It's a long story, Abraham."
"Try me, John." Abe looks seriously concerned for his friend as he sinks into a chair across from the bed. He sees John's clothes strewn across the floor and notices that his wrists are chafed and bleeding.
"I guess...." John stretches his arms and winces as his muscles complain. "I said something that really pissed Marlena off." He shrugs painfully. "So what's new huh?"
"*Marlena* did this?" Abe's eyes flick to the handcuffs disbelievingly.
"Abe, some questions are better left unanswered," John manages the shadow of a grin and hopes that if... no, *when* he gets Marlena back, she will forgive him for this. This among so many, many things.
"Woah," Abe blinks, shaking his head. "That just doesn't seem like Marlena, John. To do something like that."
"Like I said partner," John avoids Abe's eyes and instead he stands up and goes to his suitcase, pulling out a pair of boxers. "There are some things couples just keep private. I said something at the wrong moment. Nothing more to it than that."
"I'm surprised you're taking it so well," Abe still sounds slightly suspicious and John turns back to him, this time firming up his smile.
"I had most of the night to reflect on my stupidity. Doc didn't mean it. It was supposed to be a harmless bit of fun." He looks at the ruined handcuffs on the bed-stand and has to stop himself from flinching too visibly. "I don't think she even realized that I couldn't get out of the damn things. They were supposed to be trick ones, y'know?"
Abe is silent as he watches John turn back to his suitcase and pull out a pair of blue jeans. He purses his lips thoughtfully and John takes the opportunity to make for the bathroom where he can shower quickly and get changed. When he comes out, Abe is still staring at the suitcase.
"What's the matter partner, don't you believe me?" he chuckles lightly as he pulls a t-shirt from the case and pulls it on over his damp head.
"No, it's not that..." Abe shakes his head as he looks up at John. "I guess you were right, a little too much information." He laughs, but the usually rich, dark laughter seems unusually strained and his face reverts back to seriousness immediately. "Did you get a chance to talk to Marlena about where she was the night Roman was killed?"
"You know what...?" John shrugs. "I was going to but the topic just didn't come up. And I figured I'd talk to her in the morning but then..." he looks over at the bed and shrugs again.
Abe's eyes narrow suspiciously as John turns away again. There's something about all this that John is not telling him, he's sure about that. He's just not sure what it is yet.
"Dammit!" he growls as he rubs his hand over his face. "That wasn't what I wanted to hear John. I've had the D.A.'s office on my doorstep this morning. They're not going to rest until I get Marlena in for questioning."
"*No*." John says a little too quickly. "No, Abe you can't do that."
"I have no *choice*, John." Abe pushes himself out of his chair. "You know that as well as I do."
"Abe, this is *Doc*!" John reiterates. "We both know she didn't do it, so why make her suffer needlessly?" He only hopes that his eyes don't disclose the doubt that is starting to escalate within him. "That's what it is Abe, a waste of time. Why the hell do we need to drag Marlena into it? She has nothing at all to do with Roman's death, we know that, so why do you want to hurt her?"
"The very *last* thing I want to do John, is hurt Marlena," Abe says, a touch of anger colouring his words. "I've tried everything I can to get the D.A.'s office to drop it, but they're insisting. They're insisting she is questioned *today*. I can't ignore that."
A knock on the door interrupts the argument before it can intensify any further and John doesn't even look at Abe as he storms towards the door and yanks it open.
"Yes?" he snaps at the stranger standing in the corridor.
"Mr. Black?" the man asks with a foreign accent. "Mr. John Black?"
"Yes?" John looks a little chary as he puts his rests his forearm on the door-frame and leans against it. "Can I help you?"
"I just need to serve you with these." He hands John a large envelope and nods. "I'm sorry Mr. Black. Have a nice day." With those incongruous words, he turns and walks back down the corridor, leaving John staring at the envelope in his hand.
"What is it buddy?" Abe asks as John turns back to the room and pushes the door closed behind him.
"I don't know...." John can't discern anything from the envelope, which is blank, other than the fact that it bears his name. Turning it over, he tears the flap open and slips his hand inside. "I guess we'll find out soon enough."
He pulls out the sheaf of papers and Abe can't help but notice that he pales as he reads the front cover.
"John?" he prompts quietly.
"I don't believe it," John mumbles hoarsely as he looks up at Abe. "They're divorce papers. Marlena's filing for divorce."