John and Marlena (Finally) Get a Q!

Chapter 109 - The Frailty Of The Heart

When hearts have once mingled,
Love first leaves the well-built nest;
The weak one is singled
To endure what it once possess'd.
O Love! Who bewailest
The frailty of all things here,
Why choose you the frailest
For your cradle, your home, and your bier?
Its passions will rock thee
As the storms rock the ravens on high;
Bright reason will mock thee
Like the sun from a wintry sky.
From thy nest every rafter
Will rot, and thine eagle home
Leave thee naked to laughter
When leaves fall and cold winds come.

Percy Bysshe Shelley (Taken from 'When the lamp is shattered...')

Eugene stared at the words on the page, but they seemed to blur into one another as his thoughts drifted. It was odd but he felt almost relaxed for the first time in several weeks. He hadn't dreamed about Marlena in three nights now and without the catalyst of the dreams, it seemed much easier to suppress those memories that made things so awkward.

And yet, Marlena had approached him several times about what was going on inside him, wanting to help him with the bedlam that reigned within his weary mind. As if she could help, as if the very sight of her, the heady scent of her fragrance didn't twist his gut and make his knees turn to jelly. But, with the subsidence of the dreams, those feelings became less potent and easier to submerge beneath the mundane realities of everyday life on this planet. And with limited success, he had managed to convince her that this was merely a passing phase. There was nothing wrong that he couldn't handle he told her. And himself

"Gene?" he looked up to see her descending the staircase, one hand on her rounded stomach.

"Have you seen Brady's schoolbag?" She reached the living room, one hand still on the railing, and scowled unconsciously. "I can't find anything without Lucie here, it's ridiculous. I think this pregnancy has turned my brain to mush."

"Have you tried his closet?" Q tried hopefully.

"Yes, and his drawers, and Belle's closet and the linen closet and under his bed...." Marlena shrugged despairingly before moving to the sofa opposite him and lowering herself to the soft, welcoming cushions. "You don't think she'll be gone long, do you?"

Marlena hadn't realized how much they had come to rely on Lucie's quiet efficiency until the young woman had rushed home to Tennessee to attend a family emergency the other day when Marlena and John had visited Carrie. Or how much she appreciated the girl's company and wry sense of humor. She was an unusual person and Marlena still was unsure that she had met the *real* Lucie, the one hidden behind the well-controlled exterior. But in time she hoped to. She suspected that Lucie had some interesting facets.

"Why don't I have a look for it?" Q suggested with a sympathetic smile. She looked tired and it was only halfway through the day. "You put your feet up and watch TV or something."

"Oh great! Saturday afternoon TV, I'm sure I'll be swamped with choices," Marlena groaned.

"What, are you upset you can't get your weekly soap opera fix?" Gene teased her as he pushed the remote over the coffee table towards her.

"Yeah, *right*," Marlena rolled her eyes. "Thanks, but I have more than enough drama in my own life to keep me occupied."

"You have a good point there," he grinned, almost amazed that he was having a normal conversation with her. "What is it you humans say? Truth is stranger than a really bad soap opera? Of course, all soap operas could be classified as really bad from what I have seen of them. Not that I have made a point of watching them at all," he hurried to add. "With an IQ of 1509, that kind of drivel is a little beneath one like me." He grinned, enjoying the mocking lack of humility as he continued. "But from what I've caught while at home during the day, I sometimes wonder what kind of hallucinogenic drug those writers are on."