Corpus et Animus
Disclaimer: I do not belong the characters or anything else you recognize in this fic. Passions belongs to NBC, JER and a couple of other people, I'm sure. I am not making any money off of this. I write fanfic purely for pleasure, although I'm not opposed to receiving feedback :)
Posted: Sunday, March 24, 2002
Summary: A spell gone awry leaves both Grace and Ivy acting strangely. Sam/Grace and Sam/Ivy.
Note: This is my first Passions fanfic. I hope you enjoy. It takes place after Grace and John did the DNA test to determine whether or not he was her son, but since it doesn't deal with any of the stuff after Theresa declares herself Mrs. Julian Crane, let's just say it branches off there.
The first thing she noticed when she woke was that her legs were numb. Thinking she had slept on them the wrong way, cutting off the supply of blood, she tried to shift. When she realized that it wasn’t just that her legs were numb, but that she couldn’t actually feel them, she began to panic.
Stretching her arm out to shake her husband awake, her hand met air. He wasn’t there. Her breath caught in her throat and she dragged herself over to the side of the bed where there ought to have been a lamp on the bedside table. It, too, was gone. With a stifled cry, she desperately flung herself over to the other side of the bed, hoping she was somehow confused and the lamp was really there. It was, but she overreached the mark and knocked the lamp onto the floor. It shattered, the noise muffled somewhat by the carpet, but still ear shattering in the thick silence of the dead of the night.
There was a furious scramble outside and about a minute later the door flung open. She moved her arm in front of her face, shielding her eyes from the sudden flood of light.
“Mrs. Crane? Are you all right?” the maid asked fearfully.
As the woman on the bed slowly lowered her arm, her eyes becoming accustomed to the light, the maid, all the more worried for not having been answered, asked again, “Mrs. Crane? What happened? Are you hurt?”
Stunned into silence, Grace Bennett could only stare at Ivy’s maid in horror.
Sam moved quietly, trying his best not to wake his sleeping wife. He was unsuccessful. As he riffled through the stuff on top of the dresser, looking for the police badge he had thrown there the night before, Grace’s eyes fluttered open.
She stared at him questioningly for a few minutes, although Sam didn’t notice because his back was turned to her. Finally, in a soft, bewildered voice, she asked, “Sam?”
He turned. “Morning, sweetheart.” He went over and kisser her on her forehead. Grace didn’t move, although her eyes never left her husband. Sam straightened and asked, “Is something wrong, Grace?”
“No,” she answered. The look that Sam gave her clearly showed that he didn’t accept her denial, so she elaborated. “Just - dreams. I . . . had a strange dream. I guess that just threw me off.” She forced a laugh.
Sam’s brow furrowed. “Strange dreams? What about?”
“Nothing.” Grace shook her head.
“Grace,” Sam said warningly, “you can tell me.”
“You’d just think I was being silly,” Grace said.
Sam sat down on the bed and took her hand in his. “You can tell me, I won’t think you’re being silly.”
Grace bit her lip. “It was silly. Nothing, really. I just dreamt Ivy - ”
“Ivy?” Sam asked sharply. “Grace, are you sure it was just a dream? Are you sure it wasn’t a vision, maybe? Do you think Ivy’s up to something again? Is she going to try to hatch another scheme to break us up? Because you know you’re the only one for me. Nothing Ivy’ll do - ”
Grace snatched her hand away and quickly said, “It wasn’t that.” She looked away. “It wasn’t anything like that.”
“Are you sure?” Sam asked. “Ivy’s very persistent, you know.”
Grace scowled. “It wasn’t a vision and Ivy’s got another plan to break us up.”
“You’re right,” Sam agreed. Grace looked at him, slightly surprised, not having expected him to agree with her. “Ivy will probably wait until David and John are exposed as imposters before starting something else.”
“Sam,” Grace chided. “I don’t believe Ivy could have hired David and John. John’s my son. I know it.”
“We can wait for the DNA test to come in,” Sam said, unconvinced.
“The DNA test will only prove what I already know,” Grace said stubbornly. “I know that John is my son in here.” She placed a hand over her heart. “I know it in my heart.”
“We’ll see.” Sam stood up. “Now I have to go to work. I’ll see you tonight, Grace.” He kissed her goodbye”
“I love you,” Grace said.
Sam paused, his hand on the doorknob. “I love you too.” He left, closing the door behind him.
In bed, Grace pulled the blankets around her and did not go back to sleep.
“You’re up late, mom,” Jessica commented when her mom came into the kitchen sometime later. She, Kay and Charity were sitting at the breakfast table.
Grace stifled a yawn and answered, “I had some pretty strange dreams last night.”
“No,” Grace said, a little reluctant to explain, “just strange.”
Looking up for the first time from her compact mirror where she was checking out her impeccable makeup for any blemishes, Charity said, “Good. You’re all right. Then you can make us breakfast.”
Grace froze. “Breakfast?” she asked in a strained voice.
“Yeah, mom,” Kay said sarcastically, “breakfast. The time when we eat food first thing in the morning. The most important meal of the day.”
“Kay!” Jessica chided her sister. “Don’t be sarcastic.”
Kay looked at her sister sullenly, but didn’t talk back.
“Don’t talk to your sister like that,” Grace said absently.
Both Kay and Jessica looked at their mother, dumbfounded. (Charity had gone back to looking at herself in the mirror.) Neither of them could remember a time when Grace had taken Kay’s side, particularly not when it came to Kay’s habit of making sarcastic remarks. Grace had turned to the counter and missed this.
“Mom,” Kay said, genuine concern in her voice, “are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
“Yes,” Grace snapped. She held the bread bag in her hand. “I’m fine. I’m just feeling a little off today. All right? Now where is the toaster?”
Kay looked at her mother, mystified. “Where it always is.” She pointed to the appliance, sitting in its usual place beside the stove. Chagrined, Grace went over to it and put some bread in to be toasted.
While waiting for the bread to pop, Grace went over to the fridge to find something to drink. She spotted a half-empty carton of orange juice near the back and pulled it out. Pouring herself a glass, she idly wondered what was taking the toast so long. When she finished the orange juice, she realized something was wrong when she smelled something burning.
“Mom!” Jessica yelled. “The toast!” Her youngest daughter ran over to the toaster and forced the toast up. The slices of bread had been burnt black. She turned to her mother accusingly. “What were you thinking? You know the toaster doesn’t pop by itself anymore.”
“I forgot,” Grace said weakly. “I’m a little out of it today. I guess my dreams disturbed me a little more than I thought they did.”
“That’s okay,” Charity said, finally folding up her mirror. “I felt like waffles anyway.” She plastered a big, cheery smile on her face.
Grace stared at her niece. “Are you kidding? I just burnt the toast! I can’t make waffles.”
Jessica looked between her mother and her cousin uncertainly. “I’m sure Charity didn’t mean that, mom. I’m sure she just wanted to help.”
At the table, Kay snorted into her cereal. She, at least, was independent enough to make herself breakfast in the morning.
Charity only smiled even further. “Of course, silly!” she exclaimed. “I was only trying to make Aunt Grace feel better about burning the toast. Of course she doesn’t have to make us waffles.”
“See?” Jessica asked. “I knew you misunderstood.”
“I’m sorry, Charity. I overreacted,” said Grace.
“It’s okay, Aunt Grace,” Charity gushed. “I know you aren’t feeling well and I would never ask you to make me something to eat when you weren’t feeling well. Here.” She got up and shepherded her aunt over to the table. “You sit down and rest. We can grab something to eat over at the Lopez-Fitzgerald’s.”
Her words registered with her aunt after Grace had sat down. “What? But you’ll be late for school.”
Kay, who had been sitting quietly, trying her best not to let the disgust she felt at everyone fawning over Charity as usual show, said, “It’s Spring Break. We don’t have school.”
There was an awkward silence, then Grace said, “Oh.”
“Maybe you should lie down,” Jessica said, very concerned.
“Maybe I should,” Grace agreed faintly.
“We’re meeting with Miguel and Reese over at Miguel’s house,” Jessica informed her mother. “We’ll be back around three or so. Call us if you need anything, okay?”
“I will,” Grace promised. She smiled at her daughters and her niece. “Have fun.”
“We will,” Charity promised.
But when the girls had left, Grace did not lie down as she said she would. After tidying up the kitchen a bit, putting the dirty dishes into the sink, she went into the living room and pulled out a couple of old photo albums and started to flip through them. She paused at one of Sam in his uniform, smiling wistfully, letting her fingers trace the contours of his face.
The phone rang, breaking her trance. She carefully set the album back onto the table and went to answer it.
“Hello? Bennett residence.”
“What have you done?” It took her a second to recognize the hysterical voice as belonging to Ivy Crane.
“Ivy? Is that you?”
“I want my body back, Ivy!”
End of Part One
Sunday, March 24, 2002
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