John and Marlena (Finally) Get a Q!

Chapter 17 - The Downfall

John watched Marlena as she slowly lay back on the bed, both of them oblivious to the rain falling heavily outside.

"You want your prize?" Marlena said, her voice laden with desire. "Come and get it, sailor." John resisted the urge to take her straight away and instead sat on the bed next to her. Leaning over her, he placed his left hand on the bed to support himself and looked at her through heavy-lidded eyes. He ran the fingers of his right hand through her tousled hair, lifting it and watching it fall back to the bed. Then, slowly, he traced the outline of her lips, hot and red from the exertion.

Marlena took his finger in her mouth and holding it lightly with her teeth, began to explore the tip with her tongue. When her scrutiny became too insistent for John, he withdrew his finger with a smile. Laying the palm of his right hand against her neckline he began to explore her body with long smooth strokes. First one arm, then the other. Then her stomach. There was almost a ritualistic feel about his touch on her skin and Marlena closed her eyes, concentrating on nothing else but the feeling of his hand as it traveled over her curves.

His voyage finally brought him back to her neck and she threw her head back as his fingers wandered over her throat. He replaced them with his lips and moved his body to cover hers. The rhythm of their love was slow and sweet, an anthem to their past and their future. As they rose to their mutual peak, Marlena's quiet cries mingled with John's.

******

Kristen eyed Q warily. She had left the bedroom only to find him downstairs in the living room when she got there. That was when she really started to fear him. If he could appear and disappear at will, God knew what else he could do. Even Stefano hadn't been able to do that. She cursed Stefano for the umpteenth time. Now, when she needed his help most, he wasn't there for her. She had been upset when her mother had died in the strange tunnels of underground Paris, but she was beginning to realize that Stefano had been more of a loss than her mother ever was.

She eyed the brandy decanter longingly, desperate for a stiff drink, yet knowing Bradford would rat on her to John if she so much as sniffed the stopper. Her assumption was borne out as Q looked at her and then at the brandy. He snapped his fingers and a brandy appeared magically in her hand.

"You seemed to want one so badly," he said maliciously. For a moment she was almost tempted as she looked at his stony face, but she took hold of herself and poured the brandy into the nearest pot plant.

"Don't even bother," she said wearily, "I wouldn't do anything to hurt my child."

"And if John left you? Would you care about your child so much then?" Q settled himself in an overstuffed armchair and awaited her answer.

"Of course I would." Kristen didn't miss a beat. "But John isn't going to leave me. So, it's a moot point really." She put on her sweetest smile. "Now if you'd like to be on your way, Mr. Bradford. You can go back to Marlena and tell her that her latest little plot to get John back hasn't worked. They never do."

Q shook his head. "You just don't get it, do you Krissy? Marlena doesn't even know I'm here. Marlena is otherwise occupied at the moment. I doubt she could care less where I am."

Something about his smile made Kristen's stomach churn and she reached for the bell to call Ileanna. Glaring at him she rang it and waited. When Ileanna was not forthcoming, she rang it again. Still, the housekeeper did not appear, and Kristen called the woman's name. Q sighed.

"Give it up Kristen. Never one to take a subtle hint, are you?" He waved his hand vaguely in the doorway. "I gave your staff the night off."

"You did *what*?" Kristen slammed her hand down on the sideboard in frustration. "Who the hell do you think you are?"