"Get that down you." John places a beer in front of Bo and turns his back to the bar. Downing half of his own beer in one hit, he eyes the crowd. Even now, at this place, Marlena is at the forefront of his mind. He remembers years ago, her telling him she had been here with Carly when Roman and Bo had been missing. They had had some kind of "girls night out" bonding thing going on. But God only knew what had compelled them to come down to this place. He closes his eyes briefly as he contemplates all the time he has lost with Marlena and he sighs noiselessly. He can’t keep torturing himself like this or he's going to lose it.
"So what's going on bro?" Bo turns to him as he takes a mouthful of his beer, but he stops at the sight of John. "Man, you look like *shit*!"
"Thanks little brother," John grunts before he takes another mouthful of his beer. "I've been better."
"Sorry man," Bo shrugs although he's having a hard time raising a fair amount of sympathy for John. After all, it's Bo's fiancée that is lying in the hospital in a coma. John might have lost a child but Bo, could lose a hell of a lot more.
"Yeah," John nods uncertainly. There's a slight edge to Bo's voice that intensifies his doubts from earlier and he wonders if he's made a mistake thinking he can come to Bo for help. "Bo, look, you know I'm so damn sorry about all of this. If there was any way I could take back time and change what happened with..." he trail's off as he sees the flicker in Bo's eyes. Bo doesn't answer him so he tries again. "How is Hope doing?"
"About the same." Bo takes another mouthful of the tepid beer and makes a face. "You know, sometimes I think I could *kill* you for what happened..." he sighs, "but you know, then I remember how Hope was when she was Gina. I know this wasn't your fault John. As much as I want someone to blame for what happened to her, I know it isn't you." He runs frustrated fingers through his hair. "I wish it was, it would make things a hell of a lot simpler."
"Maybe in the short term..." John relaxes slightly as he puts his beer down and leans on the bar. "But looking for revenge isn't going to help Hope, Bo. Not in the long term. We all have to come to terms with what happened. We were all victims here, especially you and Doc but if we don't deal with it, it's going to tear us all apart."
"It looks as though it's doing a damn good job already," Bo grouses. "You should have told us when you first knew John."
"Maybe..." John's voice drops and then he nods his head, "okay, yeah. You're right, I should have told you. It was wrong, I was a coward and I apologize."
"Accepted." Bo nods with the hint of a smile. "So what's up? I don't have a whole lot of time, bro."
"I know, and I appreciate you taking the time out to meet me," John slams his glass on the counter and waves over the bartender to refill it as he switches gears in the conversation. "But the thing is, I need this to stay between you and me Bo. Abe can't know about this."
"Abe..." Bo shakes his head uncertainly. "John, you're not going to ask me to do anything illegal are you?"
"No Bo, c'mon!" John looks slightly aggrieved at Bo's suggestion. "Look, I know we've had our differences over the years but I still think of you as my little brother and you are the first person I consider turning to when I need some help. I don't think that will ever change." The bartender pushes the now-full beer glass back to John and John throws a twenty-dollar bill at him. Pulling Bo to a quieter corner of the shabby bar, he continues.
"I trust you with my life Bo, but I need to know that you trust me too. I know I betrayed your trust with Hope, but you have to believe me, I didn’t know what I was doing. And there is no way I would ever knowingly put you in danger or ask you to do something illegal."
Bo hears his words and allows them to sink in as he considers them and everything else that has happened lately.
"I do believe you." He feels profound relief as he says the words and realizes that he actually means them. Even two minutes ago when he had told John that it wasn't his fault, he hadn't been one hundred percent convinced. But now, suddenly, he is and it makes things a hell of a lot easier to handle. He grins at John. "I believe you, bro. It just took me a while to come around, that's all."
"Good." John lets out the breath that he has been holding and he manages a tight smile too. "I know it's not going to be easy Bo, but I can't tell you how much that means to me right now."
"Hey, I still think of you as my brother too," Bo claps his hand on John's shoulder, "so whatever help you need, I'm your man."
"And no Abe," John reiterates.
"No Abe." Bo takes a gulp of the beer. "Cross my heart man."
"Okay," John takes a deep breath and nods. "I think Stefano is planning something. I'm not sure what, but I have reason to believe he may be leaving Salem, possibly for Europe, within the next couple of weeks."
"So we'll be rid of the bastard for once and for all then," Bo muses.
"You really think we could get that lucky?" John raises his eyebrows in an obvious display of disbelief. "Look, I don't know what's going on, but I'm worried about Doc. With everything that's happened lately, she's just not in a great frame of mind and I'm worried that Stefano is going to take advantage of that."
"You think maybe DiMera is gonna try something on Marlena, *again*?"
"What better time Bo?" John asks impatiently. "We all have our own problems to deal with. Doc is unprotected over there and she's distracted. Our guard's down and Stefano is going to walk right in there and take what he wants. And what he wants is still Doc. You can bet your life on that." His knuckles are
white, they are wrapped so tightly around the handle of the beer glass, and he takes another swig of the amber liquid.
"All right, so what do you need me to do?" Bo asks.
"Find out the old man's travel plans." John says carefully. "If he's planning to take a plane, a bus or an aircraft carrier out of this place, I want to know about it."
"And what about Marlena?" Bo raises his eyebrows. "Maybe I should talk to her-"
"No." John shakes his head swiftly. He can't let her know he is on to her even in the smallest way. If she knows that John suspects she is leaving town, there is no telling what she will do. "The last thing I want is Marlena to have to look over her shoulder every five minutes wondering if Stefano is after her again. No, we can take care of this without her ever having to know, Bo."
"Are you sure?" Bo frowns, his brows knitting.
"Let me handle that end of it okay?" John slaps Bo on the arm. "She's my wife, let me decide what's best there." He shrugs. "Besides, you've got enough on your plate. But if you can find that information out for me, I'll owe you an even bigger one than I do already."
~
It has been raining out and the wet pavement is smeared with reflections of red and pink neon lights as Grace walks up to the nightclub, the black leather jacket skimming the hem of her skirt. Pushing the door open, she walks inside and looks around.
The club is smoky, the lighting dim and the music is appropriately loud. Grace surveys the patrons of the club and after several moments, her eyes alight on a likely quartet of boys in the corner. They have already taken note of her entrance and one of them nudges his friend with an appreciative grin. Grace bites back a smile of her own and makes her way to the bar, ordering a martini from the beefy bartender.
She watches him mix it with a slight air of distaste as he pours the alcohol into a cocktail shaker and agitates it briskly. He sloshes it into a glass and then drops an olive into the mixture before he hands it to Grace.
"Thanks," she says with more than a hint of sarcasm but the bartender completely misses it as he rings the martini up on the till.
"I've got it," a voice says beside her and she turns to find the boys from the corner are now surrounding her. The tall blonde one passes the bartender a ten dollar bill and then introduces himself.
"Hi there, I'm Simon," he grins. "And these guys are Nick, Andy and Roger."
"Grace." Grace extends her hand and each of the young men shakes it in turn. Simon is the last but, instead of shaking her hand, he bends over and deposits a kiss with a small flourish. The rest of the guys groan as Simon grins. "So, I don't think we've seen you around here before. New to town?"
"Not exactly," Grace takes a sip of her martini and unbelts her jacket.
"Well, you're not a regular here," one of the young men observes. "I mean, we are here all the time and we've never seen you before."
"You think you'd remember me?" Grace raises her eyebrows, her lips quirking into a small smile.
"Uh, yeah," Nick looks her up and down. "I think that's pretty much a given."
"So tell me, what do you boys do in the daylight hours?" Grace sways her hips slightly to the music.
"We're lawyers," Roger replies. "We work for Pearson and Clegg uptown."
"All of you?" Grace puts her glass down on a nearby table and slides her jacket down over her shoulders. "My word, how do any of the girls there get *any* work done?"
Nick helps slip her jacket off and then offers to take it to the coat check for her. She watches him go and then turns to Simon. "So, is one of you boys going to ask me to dance?"
~
It's after one in the morning when Grace finally unlocks the penthouse door. Simon is behind her and his hands slide around her waist and up over her breasts as he nibbles on her neck. Grace laughs as he whispers something in her ear and his hand dives under her skirt.
"Oh, you're *such* a bad boy." She twists in his arms and he kisses her as she kicks the door open with the heel of her boot. Drawing him with her, she backs into the penthouse, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck as his own hands explore her behind. She pushes the door closed before she continues to explore his lips and mouth.
"Just as well you like that." Simon chuckles richly as he wraps the fingers of one hand in her hair and pulls her head backwards. Grace gasps as he sucks on the tender flesh at the base of her throat and she feels lust tugging at her nerves, sending tremors through her body as his mouth moves over her skin.
"Get* away* from her!" The words are a wounded bellow, and for a moment, Grace doesn't know what the hell is happening. It's only a moment later though that she realizes that John has bodily torn the boy from her and has thrown him against the wall.
"Who are you?" Simon demands insolently in the near dark of the penthouse living room.
"I'm her *husband*," John snarls furiously. He's been sitting on the sofa waiting for Marlena, or whatever the hell she calls herself, for the better part of three hours. He had prepared himself for lots of things, but he hadn't expected *this*.
He doesn't even know why he hadn't. He knows he *should* have, but the thought was just too painful. And the reality is even worse. Seeing another man touching her. *Kissing* her. Knowing that she intends to take him into her bed and let him make love to her.... The knowledge assaults John, battering him, crushing him until his restraint lies in tatters.
Glaring at the impertinent young man he narrows his eyes. "And if you know what's good for you kid, you're going to get out of here right now and never come back."
"You're married?" Simon pants as he looks at Grace.
"I'm divorcing him," Grace says succinctly. "Get out, John."
"Shut up, Marlena." John doesn't even look at her.
"You don't talk to a lady like that," Simon stands up straight and then with a burst of courage, he pushes John backwards. Ignoring the fact that John's expression darkens, he walks past him and back to where Grace is standing, fascinated by the exchange. John 's fists tighten as he watches the young man slide his arm around Marlena's shoulders. "Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere."
"You wanna *bet*, punk?" John spins the young guy around and plants him with a right hook that sends him staggering back against the door. "No-one messes with my *wife*," he slams Simon back against the door. "*No-one*. You hearing me?"
"Get *fucked*, you bastard!" Simon takes a swing at John and connects with his right eye. John reacts immediately as he slams a fist into Simon's midsection. The young man doubles over, winded and John sends him sprawling with an uppercut.
Grace watches all this, her lips parted and reddened and her breathing shallow. She'd had no idea that John was going to be here, but it's quite delicious all the same.
"Listen, you lousy little fuck," John's voice is ragged as he drags Simon into a standing position. "You get the hell out of here, you hear me?"
Simon manages to draw his battered features into a sneer and he spits at John right before hitting him with another right hook. He follows it with an uppercut and manages a chuckle. The sound of laughter completely snaps any discipline John has left and he starts pummelling the boy. Blood splatters the natural grain of the wood as Simon's lip splits and his eyes begin to swell.
Grace watches rapt as John deals to the kid but after a moment she realizes that John is in real danger of doing some serious damage to Simon. Deciding it wouldn't be prudent to try and explain away a severely injured young man in her apartment to Abe on top of the business with Lamont, she steps forward.
"John. John! Cut it out!" John doesn't appear to hear her as he continues to beat the shit out of Simon. "JOHN!" Grace manages to hold back John's arm and she slips in between John and his victim. "For God's sake, you'll kill the boy."
"Maybe he deserves it," John growls wrathfully.
"Maybe we both got a little more than we bargained for," Grace purrs, pushing John back slightly as Simon staggers to his feet behind her.
"Let him go John, it's me you're angry with, isn't it?" She smiles sexily as she slides one hand around the nape of his neck and leans forward with a breathy whisper. "I've been a bad, *bad* girl John, don't you want to punish me?"
"*Doc*," John closes his eyes, trying to fight his desire for her. He knows she's not Marlena, but *god* the things her body does to him are criminal. Behind her, he hears the kid Simon mutter something about weirdos before he stumbles out the door, slamming it closed behind him.