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There was something particularly delicious about the exhaustion that follows good sex, Marlena thought.  At the moment, as she curled next to John, she just wanted to melt into the bed and never move again.

"Can we just stay here all day?" she asked.  "We could claim jet lag."

John kissed her forehead.  "You're just trying to stall, Doc.  You know I've got to go soon."

She sighed.  He knew her too well.  She was about to respond when the phone rang.  John answered and listened for a moment.  "Yeah, I'll open the gate for you."  He pushed a button on the phone that controlled the external gate of the colony, and then slid out of the bed.  "You get some sleep.  You had a tough night."  He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and headed out of the room.

Marlena rolled back onto her pillow and began to doze again.  She heard John return and begin to get back into the bed when the phone rang again. 

"Yeah, hold on," John said, getting back out of bed.  He gave Marlena an apologetic look.  "Another one."

Five minutes later, as Marlena was just slipping back into a drowsy haze, John returned, chomping on a piece of melon shaped like a flower.  "At least they sent us breakfast." 

The phone rang.

Marlena groaned.  "Just throw it across the room."

John answered, pushed the button to open the gate, and then said, "You know, Doc.  How 'bout I just turn off the ringer in here and go wait in the living room while you catch some zzzzzs?"

"Sounds like a plan," Marlena mumbled, pressing her head deep into the pillow and sinking into oblivion.

When Marlena woke a few hours later, not completely refreshed, but at least better than she had been, she took a quick shower, dressed, and headed into the living room.

"My god."

The room was littered with about a dozen large flower arrangements with several bouquets lying in a pile next to the couch.  Two multi-colored balloon assortments were bouncing off the ceiling, each with a mylar "Get Well Soon" balloon in the center.  John had piled several boxes of candy on the coffee table, next to a two-foot high display of flower-shaped fruit, obviously the source of his earlier snack.

Marlena glanced at the clock.  It was just past noon.

"Hey, Doc," John said, from a corner of the room.  He turned and she spotted a pile of stuffed animals of all different shapes and sizes.

"Are those all horses?"

"Yeah," he answered.  "I guess Kimmie must have mentioned on her show that she likes to ride."

The phone rang, causing Marlena to mutter, "What's next?"

"Hey, we haven't even gotten to Fed Ex or UPS."  He laughed, as he answered the phone, following that with a rather incredulous, "You're what?"  He went through the motions of letting the delivery into the colony, hung up the phone, and looked at her while shaking his head.  "Grossman's Delicatessen?"

Five minutes later, they were the recipients of not one, but two oversized platters full of meat and cheese, which a short, stout white-haired man insisted on setting out on the dining room table.  It was enough to feed about 50 people.  "The best corned beef in town," he declared proudly then added in a more somber voice, "My condolences, by the way."

"Condolences?" John asked.

The man looked surprised.  "Didn't someone die?  We normally only get called with these kinds of deliveries for funerals and office parties.  And since this isn't an office, I just assumed. . . ."

"Nobody's died," Marlena said, rolling her eyes.  "Though after a few days of living on corned beef--"

John cut her off.   "What my wife is saying is that we appreciate the food."  He escorted the man towards the door.

"Oh, wait," the man said.  "I've got a card here.  Almost forgot."  He passed a small envelope to John before leaving the room.

John opened the envelope and read the card.   "'Thinking of you in your time of need, Murray Goldstein.'  Who's that?"

"My agent," said a voice from the door.  Marlena and John looked over, as Andrew helped Kim into the living room.  They both froze.

"Holy shite," Andrew said, taking in the scene.  "Did someone blow up a flower cart in here?"

They picked their way past the flowers and into the room.  Andrew cleared some space on the couch so Kim could sit. 

"I guess news travels fast," she muttered.

"The perils of fame, Sis."  John pointed to the flowers arrangements one by one.  "From your fan club, the LA radio station, the Phoenix radio station, your hairdresser -- I know because she made a point to mention on the card that she styles wigs."  He paused to examine another card.  "Sorry, I forgot.  This one's from your book editor and this other is from your book publisher.  The smaller flowers and the corral over there--"  He pointed at the stuffed animals.  "--are mainly from fans.  Seems like a lot of folks have your address?"

"They probably just said 'Malibu,' and the store owners had an idea where to send stuff," Kim explained.  "It's a pretty small community.  So what else?  Fruit, candy and, of course, Murray sent enough deli to feed an army.  Guess he wants to make sure I'm not wasting away."  She frowned as she looked at the dining room table.  "I know it'll sound morbid, but I always think of funerals when I see platters like that."

Marlena chuckled, thinking of their exchange with the delivery man.  "Don't think like that," she said softly, putting a hand on Kim's shoulder just as the phone rang again.

John answered, listened, and rolled his eyes as he punched the key to let in the next delivery.  Then he looked at Kim and Marlena.  "I hope you like pizza."